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  The Fading Crimson of the Sky Perfume Oil

  We sat down on a rude bench, under a group of magnificent lime trees. The sun was setting with all its melancholy splendor behind the sylvan horizon, and the stream that flows beside our home, and passes under the steep old bridge I have mentioned, wound through many a group of noble trees, almost at our feet, reflecting in its current the fading crimson of the sky.

  A scent both bright and subdued: bergamot shuddering through lime leaves, ruby-tinged amber sunlight, violet leaf, oak bark, and sandalwood smoke.

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  Socrates Perfume Oil

  SOCRATES of Athens (c. 470 BCE – 399 BCE)

  To Socrates, “the unexamined life is not worth living.” He did his examining publicly, by elenchus, which is italics for “the question-and-answer analysis of ideas.” (We still call this “the Socratic Method” and it still bugs people.)

  Socrates portrayed himself as a “gadfly” to the torpid “great and noble steed” of the state, and powerful Athenians agreed, though they were not universally grateful.

  Socrates also claimed he had a mystical inner voice (his daimonion) and it dissuaded him from such deeds as seeking high office. Ineluctably, this daimonion and his many other peculiarities were weaponized by Athenians of high office.

  Despite his patriotic service – as soldier, as divinely-appointed nuisance of Athens – Socrates was tried, convicted of impiety and corruption of the youth, and sentenced to death by drinking Conium maculatum, which is italics for poisonous hemlock.

  Socrates remained Socrates to the last.

  …I had not the boldness or impudence or inclination to address you as you would have liked me to address you, weeping and wailing and lamenting, and saying and doing many things which you have been accustomed to hear from others, and which, as I say, are unworthy of me. But I thought that I ought not to do anything common or mean in the hour of danger: nor do I now repent of the manner of my defense, and I would rather die having spoken after my manner, than speak in your manner and live.
  – Plato-s Apology

  Inspired by anointing oils used in the philosopher’s time after partaking in public baths: orris root, ambergris accord, frankincense, olive blossom, black fig, and marjoram.

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  To a Wreath of Snow Hair Gloss

  O transient voyager of heaven!

  O silent sign of winter skies!

  What adverse wind thy sail has driven

  To dungeons where a prisoner lies?

   

  Methinks the hands that shut the sun

  So sternly from this mourning brow

  Might still their rebel task have done

  And checked a thing so frail as thou

   

  They would have done it had they known

  The talisman that dwelt in thee,

  For all the suns that ever shone

  Have never been so kind to me!

   

  For many a week, and many a day

  My heart was weighed with sinking gloom

  When morning rose in mourning grey

  And faintly lit my prison room

   

  But angel like, when I awoke,

  Thy silvery form so soft and fair

  Shining through darkness, sweetly spoke

  Of cloudy skies and mountains bare

   

  The dearest to a mountaineer

  Who, all life long has loved the snow

  That crowned her native summits drear,

  Better, than greenest plains below –

   

  And voiceless, soulless messenger

  Thy presence waked a thrilling tone

  That comforts me while thou art here

  And will sustain when thou art gone

  – Emily Brontë

   

  Morning rising in mourning grey: tobacco flower, white oud, lavender bud, and ambergris accord.

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  A Little Silver Scimitar Perfume Oil

  Foamy orris and ambergris accord pierced by a sliver of white fir needle, moonflower, and cypress.

  Out of Stock