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  On Houses Perfume Oil

  Then a mason came forth and said, Speak to us of Houses.

       And he answered and said:

       Build of your imaginings a bower in the wilderness ere you build a house within the city walls.

       For even as you have home-comings in your twilight, so has the wanderer in you, the ever distant and alone.

       Your house is your larger body.

       It grows in the sun and sleeps in the stillness of the night; and it is not dreamless. Does not your house dream? and dreaming, leave the city for a grove or hill-top?

   

       Would that I could gather your houses into my hand, and like a sower scatter them in forest and meadow.

       Would the valleys were your streets, and the green paths your alleys, that you might seek one another through vineyards, and come with the fragrance of the earth in your garments.

       But these things are not yet to be.

       In their fear your forefathers gathered you too near together. And that fear shall endure a little longer. A little longer shall your city walls separate your hearths from your fields.

   

       And tell me, people of Orphalese, what have you in these houses? And what is it you guard with fastened doors?

       Have you peace, the quiet urge that reveals your power?

       Have you rememberances, the glimmering arches that span the summits of the mind?

       Have you beauty, that leads the heart from things fashioned of wood and stone to the holy mountain?

       Tell me, have you these in your houses?

       Or have you only comfort, and the lust for comfort, that stealthy thing that enters the house a guest, and then becomes a host, and then a master?

   

       Ay, and it becomes a tamer, and with hook and scourge makes puppets of your larger desires.

       Though its hands are silken, its heart is of iron.

       It lulls you to sleep only to stand by your bed and jeer at the dignity of the flesh.

       It makes mock of your sound senses, and lays them in thistledown like fragile vessels.

       Verily the lust for comfort murders the passion of the soul, and then walks grinning in the funeral.

   

       But you, children of space, you restless in rest, you shall not be trapped nor tamed.

       Your house shall be not an anchor but a mast.

       It shall not be a glistening film that covers a wound, but an eyelid that guards the eye.

       You shall not fold your wings that you may pass through doors, nor bend your heads that they strike not against a ceiling, nor fear to breathe lest walls should crack and fall down.

       You shall not dwell in tombs made by the dead for the living.

       And though of magnificence and splendour, your house shall not hold your secret nor shelter your longing.

       For that which is boundless in you abides in the mansion of the sky, whose door is the morning mist, and whose windows are the songs and the silences of night.

  
  Morning mist and the songs and the silences of night: a soft, hazy nocturne of moonflower, dew-touched lavender buds, rose hips, and night-blooming jasmine.
  

  The sales from April’s scents from the Prophet series benefits Lutheran Settlement House, who provides food access, homelessness services, domestic violence services, senior care, and educational resources to Philadelphia’s communities.

   

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  Eusapia 2024 Perfume Oil

  The case I allude to is that of an invalid woman who belongs to the humblest class of society. She is nearly thirty years old and very ignorant; her look is neither fascinating nor endowed with the power which modern criminologists call irresistible; but when she wishes, be it by day or by night, she can divert a curious group for an hour or so with the most surprising phenomena. Either bound to a seat or firmly held by the hands of the curious, she attracts to her the articles of furniture which surround her, lifts them up, holds them suspended in the air like Mahomet’s coffin, and makes them come down again with undulatory movements, as if they were obeying her will. She increases their weight or lessens it according to her pleasure. She raps or taps upon the walls, the ceiling, the floor, with fine rhythm and cadence. In response to the requests of the spectators, something like flashes of electricity shoot forth from her body, and envelop her or enwrap the spectators of these marvellous scenes. She draws upon cards that you hold out, everything that you want – figures, signatures, numbers, sentences – by just stretching out her hand toward the indicated place.

  If you place in the corner of the room a vessel containing a layer of soft clay, you find after some moments the imprint in it of a small or a large hand, the image of a face (front view or profile) from which a plaster cast can be taken. In this way portraits of a face taken at different angles have been preserved, and those who desire so to do can thus make serious and important studies.

  This woman rises in the air, no matter what bands tie her down. She seems to lie upon the empty air, as on a couch, contrary to all the laws of gravity; she plays on musical instruments – organs, bells, tambourines – as if they had been touched by her hands or moved by the breath of invisible gnomes… This woman at times can increase her stature by more than four inches.
  —Chiaia, in a letter to Lombroso

   Pale lilacs, white tea, and candle wax.

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  Imp Pack: Fresh Perfume Oil

  – Dirty
  A fresh, crisp white linen scent: perfectly clean, perfectly breezy.

  – Kumiho
  A sharp, biting blend of crisp white tea and ginger.

  – Manhattan
  A meeting of modern, sleek elegance and rich, passionate history: sheer amber, black leather, white mint, lemon peel, white tea, grapefruit, kush, teakwood and orchid.

  – Neutral
  A flawless skin musk.

  – Qandisa
  Black musk, blackened saffron, lemon peel, and vetiver draped over thick honey.

  – Shanghai
  The crisp, clean scent of green tea touched with lemon verbena and honeysuckle.

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  Advanced Manifestations for Members Only Perfume Oil

  Seances for Inquirers are held weekly at 38, Great Russel-street. Inquirers may have Tickets free, on application to the Secretary, with personal recommendations from a Member. Admission to Members and one Friend, 1s. each. Private Seances for advanced manifestations for Members only, by special arrangement. Admission 5s.
  
  The Spiritualist, 8 February 1878
  
  A clandestine assembly of elite ghost-seekers: smoky oud, fiery crimson peppercorn, and wild patchouli swirl in a heady haze, unfolding through plush velvet labdanum, lush plum damask, molten beeswax, and a glimmer of cognac spilled over a cracked quartz sphere.
  

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