$6.25 – $25.00
It was the secrets of heaven and earth that I desired to learn; and whether it was the outward substance of things or the inner spirit of nature and the mysterious soul of man that occupied me, still my inquiries were directed to the metaphysical, or in its highest sense, the physical secrets of the world.
The scent of absinthe, lightning, stormclouds, and laudanum crashing through a veil of soft Victorian perfume.
Illustrated by Abigail Larson.
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This is a paean to all the writers, artists, poets, dramatists, composers, sculptors, scientists, inventors and innovators that inspire us. Their work formed the foundation of our creative vision, and made us the people we are today.
PERFUME OIL BLENDS
Presented in an amber apothecary vial
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Viens sur mon coeur, âme cruelle et sourde,
Tigre adoré, monstre aux airs indolents;
Je veux longtemps plonger mes doigts tremblants
Dans l’épaisseur de ta crinière lourde;
Dans tes jupons remplis de ton parfum
Ensevelir ma tête endolorie,
Et respirer, comme une fleur flétrie,
Le doux relent de mon amour défunt.
Je veux dormir! dormir plutôt que vivre!
Dans un sommeil aussi doux que la mort,
J’étalerai mes baisers sans remords
Sur ton beau corps poli comme le cuivre.
Pour engloutir mes sanglots apaisés
Rien ne me vaut l’abîme de ta couche;
L’oubli puissant habite sur ta bouche,
Et le Léthé coule dans tes baisers.
À mon destin, désormais mon délice,
J’obéirai comme un prédestiné;
Martyr docile, innocent condamné,
Dont la ferveur attise le supplice,
Je sucerai, pour noyer ma rancoeur,
Le népenthès et la bonne ciguë
Aux bouts charmants de cette gorge aiguë
Qui n’a jamais emprisonné de coeur.
– – –
Come, lie upon my breast, cruel, insensitive soul,
Adored tigress, monster with the indolent air;
I want to plunge trembling fingers for a long time
In the thickness of your heavy mane,
To bury my head, full of pain
In your skirts redolent of your perfume,
To inhale, as from a withered flower,
The moldy sweetness of my defunct love.
I wish to sleep! to sleep rather than live!
In a slumber doubtful as death,
I shall remorselessly cover with my kisses
Your lovely body polished like copper.
To bury my subdued sobbing
Nothing equals the abyss of your bed,
Potent oblivion dwells upon your lips
And Lethe flows in your kisses.
My fate, hereafter my delight,
I’ll obey like one predestined;
Docile martyr, innocent man condemned,
Whose fervor aggravates the punishment.
I shall suck, to drown my rancor,
Nepenthe and the good hemlock
From the charming tips of those pointed breasts
That have never guarded a heart.
Red musk and sweat-damp golden skin musk with labdanum, golden amber, nutmeg, tobacco absolute, black orchid, and hemlock accord.
A sparkling absinthe martini swirled with a glow stick and overflowing with cascades of dry ice fog.
Sometimes I would venture from my sepulchre to the jazz of night Paris, where having gathered the colours, I would think them over in front of the fire. I could be seen walking through a funeral corridor of my house and descending down a black spiral of steep stairs; rushing underground to Montmartre, all impatience to see the fiery rubies of the Moulin Rouge cross. I wondered thereabouts, then bought a ticket to watch frenzied delirium of feathers, vulgar painted lips and eyelashes of black and blue.
Naked feet, and thighs, and arms, and breasts were being flung on me from bloody-red foam of translucent clothes. The tuxedoed goatees and crooked noses in white vests and toppers would line the hall, with their hands posed on canes. Then I found myself in a pub, where the liqueurs were served on a coffin (not a table) by the nickering devil: “Drink it, you wretched!” Having drunk, I returned under the black sky split by the flaming vanes, which the radiant needles of my eyelashes cross-hatched. In front of my nose a stream of bowler hats and black veils was still pulsing, foamy with bluish green and warm orange of feathers worn by the night beauties: to me they were all one, as I had to narrow my eyes for insupportable radiance of electric lamps, whose hectic fires would be dancing beneath my nervous eyelids for many a night to come.
White gardenia, ambergris bouquet, lavender fougere, orange blossom, melissa, tobacco flower, coriander, ebony wood, ylang ylang, absinthe and aged whiskey.
Oman frankincense, cistus labdanum, white sandalwood, and liquidambar.
twopeople007 –
Dried flower in a library. A fleeting scent, but a lovely one. Reminds me a little of Lady of Shalott, only drier and older. One of the notes went a little soapy on me, but that faded rapidly enough. A vague smell of sweetness lasted until the morning, though it was more like an afterimage than the main show.
x.ex.nihil0.x.8 –
Received this a holiday gift. Absolutely love it, has a very elegant, old fashioned scent and I get compliments all the time when wearing it.
It’s heavy and dusky, but not overwhelmingly so, and reminds me of an after-bath powder my grandmother used to have.
I don’t smell any licorice or anise at all on my skin with it, just soft perfume powder and a hint of a metal (?) I even run a bit through my hair after washing and the scent lasts very well, all day, both on skin and in hair.
Overall, an absolute 5 stars from me.
veggiegal4ever –
I received a sample of this with an order, put it on, and fell in love. At first whiff, it smells like old fashioned black licorice, then as it dries down, it becomes an ethereal cloud of unidentifiable faint flowers. This scent evokes to me something “Cathy” from Flowers in the Attic would wear. It is delicate, fragile, and there’s something almost haunting about it. I envision Cathy dancing alone in her tattered old leotard and tutu, gazing at her ghostly beauty in a dusty old Victorian full length mirror. There is also, at the very bottom, something strong and almost masculine as well, which makes this fragrance SO intangible! A man COULD probably wear this, as certain men can get away with Jean Paul Gaultier for men.
katietribe –
I’m really torn on this one. When first applied it smells like lightning (strong ozone and almost sour/sweet undertone) but after a few minutes it fades to licorice with hints of sweet smoke. Then fades sweeter. It only lasts a few hours on me, and I dislike the scent of the first stage, however it is a fun scent and I keep coming back to it.
thurzeler –
The sweetness and the absinthe make it smell like a sophisticated licorice candy. It’s wonderful, I just wish the anise would stay strong a little longer.
kittencult –
A fun, clean scent. Refreshing and green, but with a layer of sharp spice to keep it interesting.
xaglow –
This one smells like their lightning, but lighter and with a bit of sweetness. Another hit out of the park for one of BPAL’s rare cooler scents.