$30.00
The California Leaf-Nosed Bat prefers the desert. They’re homebodies and do not migrate, and they’re also definitely Type A bats, as they don’t hibernate. Go go go!
Nightfall in the desert: Mojave yucca, creosote bush, saguaro, dusty clove, and sacred datura.
The baby bat
Screamed out in fright,
‘Turn on the dark,
I’m afraid of the light.
– Shel Silverstein
This autumn, we are introducing the next Genius Loci series: Bats of Los Angeles. Illustrated by Drew Rausch, scented by Elizabeth Barrial, and inspired by our local furry flighted fuzzballs.
There’s bats over in Black Phoenix Trading Post’s belfry, too!
You must be logged in to post a review.
Shisha and thick coffee brewed with cardamom pods, cinnamon, clove, black pepper, and nutmeg.
Throaty laughter captures your attention. Across the lane you see a buxom Venetian woman standing before a huge black and red striped tent. Her head is inclined towards a dapper, leering man, and they appear to be sharing a private joke. He reaches into his waistcoat and produces a gold coin. The woman plucks it from his fingers. He bows, and walks into the tent with a swagger. A sign flashes above the tent flap in letters that seem to be aflame: The Grindhouse, Dead or Live Girls.
The Madam turns towards you and smiles. As she approaches, someone within the tent strikes a few keys on a tuneless piano, and begins to play Jelly Roll Morton’s ‘the Crave’. The light within the tent illuminates the interior, shining behind the silhouettes of naked women gyrating lewdly upon raised stages, writhing in time with the music.
In the distance, behind the tent, you hear a whip crack, and a man’s scream. Tittering laughter follows, and the screams continue.
“Voulez-vous un morceau de la boîte de bonbon?” she asks, gesturing gracefully towards the tent.
The Madam’s perfume envelops you.
Florentine iris, red musk, mimosa, magnolia, Damascus rose, clove, and vanilla bean.
Dark, decadent and incomparably exotic: the rich scent of buttered rum flavored with almond, bay, clove and sassafras.
They call me Troll;
Gnawer of the Moon,
Giant of the Gale-blasts,
Curse of the rain-hall,
Companion of the Sibyl,
Nightroaming hag,
Swallower of the loaf of heaven.
What is a Troll but that?
A lurching, hateful, bitter scent. This is a gruesome blend of ghastly greens and blacks: vetiver, pine pitch, troll musk, black basil, clove smoke, and scorched cumin.
Natalie –
Oooooooooh, right out of the bottle, it smells like Joshua Tree at night! Dust and green and just enough clove to make it warm. So lovely. The dry down is light and green with just a tiny bit of floral (perhaps that’s the datura?). Just wonderful. No aging needed for this one.