Plum - Wild

  • Altarpiece – No 1 – Group X Perfume Oil

    Altarpiece – No 1 – Group X. Hilma af Klint 1907
    “I was privileged to visit the ‘Hilma af Klint: Paintings for the Future’ exhibit when it was at the Guggenheim in 2019. The scale and scope of some of these visionary works were of such a breathtaking nature that I grew faint and strange; I thought (hoped, even!) I might be experiencing an art attack, a psychosomatic episode, a soupçon of Stendahl Syndrome. What made the afternoon complete was when my boyfriend’s mother wandered into the Mapplethorpe exhibit and was a bit scandalized. not having any familiarity or context before doing so. All kinds of feels on this day!”

    A prism of sacred frankincense refracting a golden amber light into a spectrum of daemonorops draco, King mandarin, golden oud, verdant moss, blue tansy, indigo vegetal musk, and wild plum.

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    Antonino, the Carny Talker Perfume Oil

    As you approach an enormous patchwork tent, a curious sound catches your attention: the rattle of bones and the tinkling of tiny bells heralds the arrival of a gaunt and ghastly creature. An animated skeleton dressed in a jester’s motley saunters towards the front of the tent, waving an orange and black striped cane at the crowd in an effort to clear a path. The jester makes his way past the fog-shrouded, faded, colossal posters that adorn the tent to a platform in front of the massive tent’s entrance. His ivory smile frozen in a gleeful rictus grin, he steps up onto the platform, taps the cane three times, and the jester costume vanishes. Suddenly dark eyes appear in the empty sockets, bones are wrapped in muscle, sinew grows over the bones, blood fills rapidly appearing veins. Before your eyes, the skeletal jester has become a dapper, handsome man, dressed in black and orange, with a skull-ornamented straw hat tilted jauntily upon his shining black hair.

    His smile is slick and conspiratorial. With a flourish and arcing wave of his cane, he booms:

    “Step right up, ladies and gentlemen! This is Carnaval Diabolique’s notorious 13-In-1: the finest freak show in all the Hells! What marvels await you, you ask? Simply the strangest and most fantastic creatures, human and inhuman, gathered for your entertainment, enlightenment and erudition!”

    With the cane, he gestures at the gigantic posters that adorn the tent. The images, once hazy, suddenly come into focus.

    “From the depths of the Black Forest: Arachnina, the Spider Girl! From the rain-swept streets of London: Hope and Faith, the Siamese Twins! From ruins of old Aquae Sextia: Wulric, the Wolf Man!

    “Thalassa, the Galapagos Mermaid! A vision of life-in-death, Eshe!

    “All in all, THIRTEEN anatomical curiosities, miracles of genetics, magick and science, masters of marvels, ALIVE ON THE INSIDE!”

    White musk, wild plum, vetiver, black coconut, verbena, fig, and lavender.

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    Bette Noir Perfume Oil

    The Paradigm’s martial artist and weapons master, Bette carries a grim secret—that she alone knows Plutonian’s one true vulnerability.

    Benzoin, wild plum, smoky amber, bergamot, orange blossom, myrrh, and dark berries.

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    Dionysia Perfume Oil

    Wild plum, pomegranate, raspberry, Siamese benzoin, plum blossom, patchouli, frankincense, and mahogany.

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  • Drow Yoga Instructor Perfume Oil

    As silent as the deepest cavern, as serene as a twilit shadow, as graceful as a spider, and as resilient as a web: wild plum, indigo lavender, and a tranquil tendril of sandalwood incense.

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  • hallway of a train station

    Hallway of a Train Station Perfume Oil

    Wild plums, black tea, a splash of lilac cologne, a flutter of silk, hot iron, steel, and smoke.

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  • Limitations Perfume Oil

    The subtlest strain a great musician weaves,
    Cannot attain in rhythmic harmony
    To music in his soul. May it not be
    Celestial lyres send hints to him? He grieves
    That half the sweetness of the song, he leaves
    Unheard in the transition. Thus do we
    Yearn to translate the wondrous majesty
    Of some rare mood, when the rapt soul receives
    A vision exquisite. Yet who can match
    The sunset’s iridescent hues? Who sing
    The skylark’s ecstasy so seraph-fine?
    We struggle vainly, still we fain would catch
    Such rifts amid life’s shadows, for they bring
    Glimpses ineffable of things divine.

    – Henrietta Cordelia Ray

    Dusk-purple jasmine and wild plum, orris absolute, honeysuckle, red mandarin, and benzoin.

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  • madrigal

    Madrigal Perfume Oil

    Vous me baisez comme une soeur:

    Ces baisers sont pleins de douceur;

    Mais souffrez que je les condamne.

    Je ne suis qu’un mortel, ô[ô] nouvelle Diane,

    Pourquoi me traitez-vous ainsi qu’un Apollon?

    Je serai trop heureux du sort d’Endimion.

     

    You kiss me like a sister,

    Kisses filled with sweetness;

    Yet you must allow me to condemn them,

    For I’m only mortal, my Diane;

    Why treat me like Apollo great?

    I’d be so happy with Endymion’s fate.

    – Pauline de Simiane

    Sweet, sorrowful, doomed longing: somnambulic lavender, wild plum, Siamese benzoin, and sugared opium tar.

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    Mme. Moriarty, Misfortune Teller Perfume Oil

    A colorless woman bursts from an elaborate gold and ruby tent and faints dead at your feet. Soft laughter emits from the dark entrance to the tent, and the scent of musk, black fruits and incense touches your senses. Looking up, you see that the sign hovering above the unconscious woman is adorned with images of the Major Arcana’s Tower and reads:

    “Mme. Moriarty, Misfortune Teller.
    No fate too grim, no future too bleak.”

    A tiny woman with floor-length black dreadlocks walks out of the tent, stepping over the prone body. She is clothed in deep red wrappings, and is bedecked in golden ornaments bearing alchemical symbols and charms representing eternity, chance, and wisdom. She pauses, looks you over slowly, and then flicks a tarot card at your feet.

    Red musk, vanilla bean, pomegranate, black currant, patchouli leaf and wild plum.

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  • o daughter of death and priapus

    O Daughter of Death and Priapus Perfume Oil

    They were purple of raiment and golden,

    Filled full of thee, fiery with wine,

    Thy lovers, in haunts unbeholden,

    In marvellous chambers of thine.

    They are fled, and their footprints escape us,

    Who appraise thee, adore, and abstain,

    O daughter of Death and Priapus,

    Our Lady of Pain.

     

    Black opium, wild plum, cypress tar, Bulgarian rose, olibanum, black orchid, and tobacco.

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  • POMEGRANATE, WILD PLUM, AND GREEN TEA
  • Roses Pearls and Amethysts

    Roses, Pearls, and Amethysts Perfume Oil

    White rose and hothouse orchids with honey musk, wild plum, black patchouli, and geranium.

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    The Witch Queen Perfume Oil

    On a rocky mountain pass, on the southernmost slopes of Mount Belly, the witch-queen reined in her goat-drawn chariot and stopped and sniffed the chilly air.

    The myriad stars hung cold in the sky above her.

    Her red, red lips curved up into a smile of such beauty, such brilliance, such pure and perfect happiness that it would have frozen your blood in your veins to have seen it. “There,” she said. “She is coming to me.”

    And the wind of the mountain pass howled about her triumphantly, as if in answer.

    Wild plum, red musk, tuberose, calla lily, heliotrope, pimento, ylang ylang and beeswax beneath a dark haze of sinister purple-hued incense smoke.

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  • WITCH BIRDS

    Witch-Birds Perfume Oil

    In Sweden tradition says that sorcerers  on Walpurgis night ride to Blocula and there turn into magpies. A lady at Carlstadt in that country was haunted by witch-birds in a very unpleasant manner. Having insulted a Finn woman who had begged food of her she told her to take a magpie that was hanging in a cage and eat it if she was hungry. The Finn cast an ‘evil eye’ on the lady for this insult but took the bird away with her. Some time after the Swedish lady noticed that whenever she went out a magpie came hopping in front of her. This happened for some days running, and then the magpie was joined by a companion bird, and presently by a number. The lady began to get frightened, but the more she tried to get rid of these strange companions the more numerous they became. They perched on her shoulders, tugged at her dress, and pecked at her ankles. In despair she shut herself up indoors, but they remained outside, and as soon as the door was open in they hopped. At last she went to bed and had the shutters closed, and the magpies kept on tapping outside till she died.

     

    Blinding-white mallow and vanilla sandalwood streaked with indigo opium pod accord, velvet black violet petals, wild plum, and opoponax.

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    Zorya Vechernyaya Perfume Oil

    “You see, I am the only one of us who brings in any money. The other two cannot make money fortune-telling. This is because they only tell the truth, and the truth is not what people want to hear. It is a bad thing, and it troubles people, so they do not come back. But I can lie to them, tell them what they want to hear. So I bring home the bread.”

    Red musk and wild plum, orange blossom and jasmine, juniper berries, sweet incense and vetiver-laced sandalwood.

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