kebechet

Psst! 13 will be live til Wednesday the 18th!

Hey all! I wanted to let y'all know that there might be a slight delay in BPTP customer service. Ted (Puddin') took ill with the flu tonight, and he's going to need a little time to get well. This one's a doozy. The perils of being a one-goblin operation! Thank you so much for understanding!

Hear them jingle bells jinglin’? MUST BE TIME FOR YULE AT BLACK PHOENIX TRADING POST! First off... To accompany Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab’s Miskatonic Valley Yule Festival scents, Black Phoenix Trading Post presents three joyously jabbersome atmosphere sprays -- ++ BPTP MISKATONIC VALLEY: THE FESTIVAL ATMOSPHERE SPRAYS A GREAT WHITE CHURCH Amid these hushed throngs I followed my voiceless guides; jostled by elbows that seemed preternaturally soft, and pressed by chests and stomachs that seemed abnormally pulpy; but seeing never a face and hearing never a word. Up, up, up the eerie columns slithered, and I saw that all the travellers were converging as they flowed near a sort of focus of crazy alleys at the top of a high hill in the centre of the town, where perched a great white church. I had seen it from the road’s crest when I looked at Kingsport in the new dusk, and it had made me shiver because Aldebaran had seemed to balance itself a moment on the ghostly spire. Unholy incense drifting through mazelike streets: dragon’s blood resin, black frankincense, sickly-sweet cardamom, cassia, and myrrh. AN AGED TOWN OF CURIOUS CUSTOMS When I sounded the archaic iron knocker I was half afraid. Some fear had been gathering in me, perhaps because of the strangeness of my heritage, and the bleakness of the evening, and the queerness of the silence in that aged town of curious customs. And when my knock was answered I was fully afraid, because I had not heard any footsteps before the door creaked open. But I was not afraid long, for the gowned, slippered old man in the doorway had a bland face that reassured me; and though he made signs that he was dumb, he wrote a quaint and ancient welcome with the stylus and wax tablet he carried. Ghastly secrets and terror-numb revelations: white mint, black amber, tallow, antediluvian woods, and sickly resins. FOOTWORN STEPS LEADING INTO A DANK, SUFFOCATING CRYPT The church was scarce lighted by all the lanthorns that had entered it, for most of the throng had already vanished. They had streamed up the aisle between the high white pews to the trap-door of the vaults which yawned loathsomely open just before the pulpit, and were now squirming noiselessly in. I followed dumbly down the footworn steps and into the dank, suffocating crypt. The tail of that sinuous line of night-marchers seemed very horrible, and as I saw them wriggling into a venerable tomb they seemed more horrible still. Then I noticed that the tomb’s floor had an aperture down which the throng was sliding, and in a moment we were all descending an ominous staircase of rough-hewn stone; a narrow spiral staircase damp and peculiarly odorous, that wound endlessly down into the bowels of the hill past monotonous walls of dripping stone blocks and crumbling mortar. It was a silent, shocking descent, and I observed after a horrible interval that the walls and steps were changing in nature, as if chiselled out of the solid rock. What mainly troubled me was that the myriad footfalls made no sound and set up no echoes. After more aeons of descent I saw some side passages or burrows leading from unknown recesses of blackness to this shaft of nighted mystery. Soon they became excessively numerous, like impious catacombs of nameless menace; and their pungent odour of decay grew quite unbearable. I knew we must have passed down through the mountain and beneath the earth of Kingsport itself, and I shivered that a town should be so aged and maggoty with subterraneous evil. Maggoty with subterraneous evil: the scent of creeping deep green mosses, sweet rot, lantern oil, and sinuous incense drifting over dripping stone blocks, mushroom-moist soil, and crumbling mortar. Meanwhile, outside of the Valley, we have a few other atmospheres to experience: ++ YULE ROOM SPRAYS LADY FLEMING’S GINGERBREAD Scent your home like a 17th century manor house at Yuletide! Warm gingerbread crafted with almonds, dates, aniseed, raw ginger root, and cinnamon. SCHWARZWALD Snow-blanketed granite enveloped by a sea of spruce and pine. SNOW ANGEL Cherubic spun sugar with a hint of lemon, sparkling peach, and floral tea. SNOWBLIND The perfect vanilla mint. SPANKED Sado-masochistic holiday cheer: whip leather, cardamom, patchouli and bourbon. WASSAIL Wassayle, wassayle out of the mylke payle, Wassayle, wassayle as white as my nayle, Wassayle, wassayle in snowe, froste, and hayle, Wassayle, wassayle with partriche and rayle, Wassayle, wassayle that muclie doth avayle, Wassayle, wassayle that never wylle fayle. Thick brown ale and aged port with cinnamon, black clove, lemon zest, allspice, cardamom, ginger, and brown sugar. And some bath oils to help warm you on cold winter nights – ++ YULE BATH OILS CHOCOLATE ESPRESSO GINGERBREAD Fiendishly decadent! PEACOCK QUEEN In dramatic contrast to the soft innocence of Snow White and the dew-kissed freshness of her sister, Rose Red, this is a blood red, voluptuous rose, velvet-petaled, at the height of bloom. Haughty and imperious, vain, yet incomparably lovely to the eye, but thick with thorns of jealousy, pride and hatred. PINK SNOWBALLS A lighthearted winter scent: chilly vanilla rose snowballs! Dainty, soft, and certainly unfit for flinging! ICE PRINCESS Iced blackberries, blackcurrant honey, frozen white peach, and sweet vanilla cream. WINTER MAIDEN Ice-rimed innocence. The blush of youth, frozen for eternity. Snow-laden woods, iced blackberry and bergamot, white rose, and crystallized amber. Plus some thinly-veiled sadomasochistic cheer and all the balls you can handle: ++ BLACK PHOENIX TRADING POST YULE PERFUMES ELDRITCH DARK The Miskatonic Valley's premiere sex shop. Black and red musks with honey, leather, and sugared black rose. BLACK SNOWBALLS For a very gothy Yule. Black licorice slurry with blackcurrant, black fig, and mulberries. BLUE SNOWBALLS ... because the holidays can be really, really frustrating. Blueberry slush with a hint of lime and blackberry juice. DISCO SNOWBALLS Brian and I made this one for Ted to honor his undying, incessant, relentless love of Abba: silvery snow reflecting myriad glimmers of orange blossom, black currant, pink grapefruit, white mint, sweet plum, and Italian bergamot. AND… (dramatic pause and drumroll, please) it is time for the 2013 BLACK PHOENIX TRADING POST NAUGHTY OR NICE INQUISITION -- He knows when you’ve been sleeping, he knows when you’re awake… ++ THE 2013 NAUGHTY OR NICE INQUISITION: FAIRY TALE EDITION Are you a vision of heroic virtue - or a paragon of fairy tale villainy? Let the Alchemy Lab Imps and Trading Post Goblins decide! THIS is the NAUGHTY OR NICE INQUISITION! For $49US, you will receive both a fairy tale-themed Bath Oil and a Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab fragrance that coordinates with your holiday judgment. You have a choice: let the Black Phoenix goblins determine your fate, convince us of your goodness (or wickedness!), or cut to the chase and order items individually. How do you influence the imps and goblins? You may plead your case in the comments field of your order. If you choose to leave it blank, the denizens of Black Phoenix will utilize the ancient art of sniffomancy in order to determine your fate. Time permitting, entries will be published on the Black Phoenix Trading Post FB page, unless you request otherwise. Please indicate whether you wish to remain anonymous, and if you would like your name published, how you wish for it to appear. If you have been NICE, you will receive one of the following Nice Bath Oils: RAGS TO ROYALTY A bath fit for a down-to-earth monarch: sweet aged patchouli, golden amber, cacao, winter honey, precious oudh, and ylang ylang. THREE IMPOSSIBLE ERRANDS BATH OIL A bath oil to help you relax after slaying dragons, polymorphing prickish princes, carrying water in irritating sieves, breaking all manner of curses, and grooming talking animals: Roman chamomile, bourbon geranium, Indian frankincense, French lavender, and vanilla orchid. … plus one of these Nice perfumes KNIGHT IN SHINY ARMOR Gird your loins for battle with a cologne that will infuse you with an extra boost of bravery, chivalry, and gentlemanly wherewithal: dapper lavender fougere with white carnation, sweet oakmoss, clary sage, crisp leather, bourbon vanilla, and a hint of armor polish. SCRAPPY DAMSEL No tower too high, no dragon too mighty! Get in ass-kickin’, self-savin’ gear with this bright, energetic perfume! Orange blossom, neroli, white musk, shimmering amber, yellow sandalwood, Himalayan cedar, radiant saffron, and golden honey. HELPFUL CRONE Enhance your Wise Woman cred with this combination of sage, shrewd oils. Herbs of wisdom, flowers of wit, and the comforting scent of the hearth: hyssop, oak leaf, acorn hull, elder blossom, three sages, and tobacco absolute, with kitchen herbs and raw honey. … and a jar of Nice Glop, which is only available if you purchase a Nice set or are deemed Nice (based on your plea) by the Trading Post goblins: NICE GLOP Very, very nice: honey-coated honeysuckle and sugar cane. - - - If you have been NAUGHTY, you will receive one of the following Naughty Bath Oils: NEFARIOUS PLAN Luxuriate in a pool of lavish, sinful indulgence while you hatch your next malicious scheme: black patchouli, sharp green tea, raw tobacco leaf, a dribble of orange blossom, and caramelized sugar. UNHAPPILY EVER AFTER The perfect way to unwind after you’ve eviscerated your foes: white champagne grape, blood red roses, violet leaf, and bourbon vanilla. … plus one of these Naughty perfumes CORRUPT CHANCELLOR Are you over your liege lord’s shenanigans? Do you think you could do one better? Look no further! We have the perfect Power Cologne for you! Overthrow the rightful regent with style: smoky vetiver cologne with black leather, black pepper, smoky coffee bean, Italian bergamot, and Mysore sandalwood. VAIN SORCERESS Mad with power, madly in love, or just mad: a dark, spellbinding, seductively narcissistic mix of tuberose, blackened vanilla musk, caraway, white gardenia, red amber, black velvet accord, and jasmine sambac. WICKED MATRIARCH Whether you’re flipping through poisoned apple recipes on Pinterest, researching dilapidated towers to house irritating princesses, or simply interested in a sporting match of croquet, dab a little of our perfume behind each ear, and you’ll be ready to destroy all those who stand in your way. Velvet red roses, mimosa blossom, heady magnolia, oudh, and black patchouli draped across a regal purple musk. … and a jar of Naughty Glop, which is only available if you purchase a Naughty set or are deemed Naughty (based on your plea) by the Trading Post goblins: NAUGHTY GLOP Very, very naughty: red musk, leather, bourbon vanilla, and red patchouli. The GLOPS are only available in the Naughty or Nice sets, and are not sold individually. WHAT IS A GLOP? Dear reader, a glop is one ounce of luxuriant, lotiony goodness. We have combined shea olein with refined rice bran oil, fractionated coconut oil, rosehip seed oil, evening primrose oil, Vitamin E, and apricot kernel oil to make the most soothing, nourishing, and all-around amazing hand-and-foot lotion imaginable. Each Glop is lavishly scented with Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab fragrances that were created specifically for this project. You may place an order for multiple sets, or place multiple orders, and in either case, each will be considered separately in the course of the Inquisition process. If you are placing an order for more than one set, you may submit multiple Naughty or Nice pleas, applicable to each order. Please indicate which Naughty or Nice statement pertains to which section of your order. No imps are available for scents in this series. Once your Naughty or Nice status is determined, you will be given one of the oils from your status category. If you choose to forego the Plea Process, we will weep bitter tears, but will respect your requests. If you choose not to participate via Plea, please simply enter your request for which bath oil and perfume you want in the comments field of your order. If you leave the comments field blank, we will make your choice for you. If you wish to purchase products individually, you may do so! We are not suggesting, by way of this Inquisition, that anyone that participates actually evil, wicked, naughty, unpleasant, malicious, or anything else shady. This is intended to be taken in good humor; don't be a sourpuss! Artwork by Her Majestic Wickedness, Lady Tanya Bjork! And traipsing into the General Catalogue, we have two new fleece sweats! The fluffiest, softest sweats imaginable. Crafted from 100% combed and ring-spun cotton to form an impeccably cozy fleece knit! Both the men’s and women’s styles are a flattering straight leg, but the fit of the women’s is slightly more form-fitting – akin to our yoga pants, but thicker and snugglier. The men’s have side-pockets, the women’s do not. JOLLY ROGER SWEATS Our Jolly Roger on the left thigh and Black Phoenix Trading Post on the right, both in bone-white ink. SKELETAL LIBRARIAN SWEATS Our Skeletal Librarian on the left thigh and Black Phoenix Trading Post on the right, both in crimson ink. And last, but not least – Dorian hair gloss! DORIAN The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it. Resist it, and your soul grows sick with longing for the things it has forbidden to itself. Refined, elegant, and lovely, with a noble bearing and seemingly gentle air. This blend is an artful deception: a sweet gilded blossom lying over a twisted and corrupted core. A Victorian fougere with three pale musks and dark, sugared vanilla tea.

Please Note - Shipping cutoffs to receive items by Christmas this year are as follows: Last day for international orders is Thursday, Dec 5 and last day for domestic orders is for Thursday, Dec 12. Thanks!

Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab has teamed up with Hasbro and We Love Fine to bring you two Pony'riffic scents: Shy and Luna by Luna! Per the wonderful people at WLF -- In April we did a fun April Fool’s promo for #MyLittlePony Scents, and so many fans said they actually wanted them! So we joined forces with the wonderful scent magicians at Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab and voila… actual “Shy” and “Luna By Luna” (the two most popular “fake” scents we created) are now a reality in our Achievements gifts with purchase program! Shy scent notes: Pink carnation, spun sugar, white pear, peach blossom, and vanilla bean. Luna By Luna scent notes: Blue musk, white sandalwood, black currant, jasmine leaf, green tea, and ylang ylang. These highly concentrated scent oil “imp” samples are available NOW in very limited quantities as part of our Achievements for orders of $100 or more; be sure to add them to your cart when you check out. (Limit 1 imp per order.) Available while supplies last through our holiday sale period!: http://www.welovefine.com/ A MILLION THANKS to Hasbro and We Love Fine! Thanks to you guys, BPAL is 20% cooler!

THE THIRTEENTH LABOR OF HERCULES IS COMPLETE! At long last, the new Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab site is live! Before I delve into the new bells, whistles, and gewgaws, I want to thank the woman responsible for the Lab overhaul: Kaitlin Reeves of Form and Function. Kaitlin, you are amazing. Thank you for all of your hard work. Thank you for all the blood, sweat, and tears that you invested in the construction of the new site. You are an amazing person – talented, dedicated, smart as hell, and beautiful inside and out – and we are so, so grateful for you. So, what’s new? Well, the search function is back for starters... + User accounts: You can create an account when you place your first order or by clicking here. You are welcome to order as a guest and not create an account, but having one gives you access to special features, such as… + Account Dashboard: You can access your dashboard by clicking on the "Login/ Account Dashboard" link on the top black navigation bar. From this page, you can view your order status, review your order history, change your shipping or billing address and view your Wishlists. + Wishlists: Wishlists allow you to keep track of the stuff you want. They can be private or serve as a public gift registry for friends, family or random admirers. You can have as many as you want. You can access your Wishlist control center by clicking on the "Wishlists" link on the top black navigation bar. You can add things to your Wishlist by going to a product page and clicking the link beneath the "Add to Cart" button that says "Add to my Wishlist". + Fancy Search: There are two places you can search the new site, on the top black navigation bar or on the top of the sidebar (on pages that have one). The search looks at scent names, tags, categories, Shiny & New posts, and pages. Once you type a few letters a drop down will appear revealing the best matches. You can click directly on what you want to go to that page. You can also click the magnifying glass image to go to a full search results page. + Gift Certificates: You can purchase gift certificates in any amount you choose by clicking here, or the link on the sidebar. They can be automatically emailed as gifts to the recipient of your choice or sent to you (to use for yourself or to gift at a later time). Gift certificates are redeemable through entering the code in the coupon box on the cart or during checkout. For security, the gift certificate code is matched against the email it was sent to during checkout, so make sure to use the same email when you use it! + Reviews: You can leave a review and a rating on any product page by looking beneath the share bar and looking on the left hand tabs for "Reviews". You can also read other people's reviews of products in the same place. + Waitlists: If a product goes out of stock or gets discontinued, there will be a notice and an option to sign up for the Waitlist. If that product comes back in stock, you will be notified of its availability. We can also see how much demand there is for different products, so this will help us re-stock what you want faster and maybe even get some posthumously popular products resurrected. + Directory: We have compiled a directory that has every scent, tag, category, and page on the site. All of those items are also available through the search bar, so don't feel like you need to wade through that if you don't want to! + Social Media: Fancy share buttons are available! + Payment Gateways: So long, CCNow! When you check out, you can choose to pay through Paypal or Authorize.net. + Shipping Calculation: The system will be able to calculate shipping for you automatically based on what you have in your cart and where in the world you want it sent. Free shipping will be automatically applied on orders over $175 shipped to the US or $300 shipped internationally. + I'm sure there are some things that we've forgotten to cover, so get thee forth and wander! The site is going to be an ever-evolving work-in-progress, and there’s quite a bit that still needs spiffin’ up. Please keep your eyes peeled for little functional and aesthetic changes and improvements in the upcoming months. And onto the smells! -- On that day, the Harmony of the World shattered. The Skeksis woke from the shock of division, and they woke full of violence and anger. They stormed into the Crystal Chamber, staggering with the strain of their new bodies, grasping each other to stand yet hating each other’s touch. There was loud argument, they struck blows, one hit the Crystal. A shard broke from the Crystal and flew up the shaft, out onto the mountainside. And the light left the crystal. For the span of a single breath, there was no sound heard... My dear friends, skekNa, skekTek, skekUng, and skekZok, have come for a visit! ++ THE DARK CRYSTAL SKEKNA THE SLAVE MASTER SkekNa the Slave Master remains silent most of the time, except for occasional sneers and hisses. His action is dominated by kicking, whipping, and herding little Podling slaves. Between meals, the Skeksis sought out skekNa the Slave Master for scraps to appease the raging hunger they always felt. SkekNa was purely and openly evil from the beginning, and without him the work of the Castle would never have been done. The essence of vile gluttony: an abundance of spices, sweet cakes, thick creams, and opulent liqueurs mixed with the scent of whip leather and rusted padlocks. SKEKTEK THE SCIENTIST SkekTek the Scientist kept some real power of thought, but in truth he had become only a juggler of ideas, of memories from his previous life. He had studied the light of the Crystal and used it for the division. And he studied the wounded Crystal, and by that light he saw his ways to acts of darkness. First, he learned the art to make beams of light from the Dark Crystal, which he burned into the eyes of the Pod People and Gelfling to make them his slaves. After the light had struck them, no light lived in their eyes, but they obeyed. And the second evil was to use dark light to draw the essence of life, to drain it from the living to make a drink for the Skeksis, above all for the Emperor. This essence gave them back their youth and vigor for a while, only for a little while; but many Gelflings were victims forever. Metal and stone and beams of dark light: hyssop, black currant, black viola, passionflower, and myrrh. SKEKUNG THE GARTHIM MASTER Strongest of all for brute force – after the Emperor – was skekUng the Garthim Master. Torment was his pleasure, though his urSkeks originally had been a healer and continued so in his urRu form. Hidden in that tall, shining urSkek was one who, ages later, could find pleasure in tearing apart the gentle Gelfling. The urSkeks knew this evil was in them and tried hard to burn it out. Brute force and destruction: vetiver, smoke, steel, and dragon’s blood resin. SKEKZOK THE RITUAL MASTER SkekZok the Ritual Master was thought to hold control of the court entirely in his own hands. He had the ear of skekSo the Emperor, whose wishes were absolute; no one could hope for success except through skekZok. He sought to rule the other Skeksis through prophecies he invented and false apparitions he conjured. SkekZok found that the Emperor raised favorites only to enjoy the pleasure of their fall, while other distrustful Skeksis practiced their own secret divinations. An incense of deception: frankincense, opoponax, hyssop, champaca, and opium poppy accord. A million thanks to our good friends at Jim Henson Studios! You are wonderful people, and it is an honor to work with you! It’s that time of year again! The nip of winter wind is in the air, Krampus is dusting off his switches, Befana is polishing her broom, and Miskatonic Valley villagers are preparing for their winter solstice feasts. ++ MISKATONIC VALLEY YULETIDE: THE FESTIVAL The nethermost caverns are not for the fathoming of eyes that see; for their marvels are strange and terrific. Cursed the ground where dead thoughts live new and oddly bodied, and evil the mind that is held by no head. Wisely did Ibn Schacabao say, that happy is the tomb where no wizard hath lain, and happy the town at night whose wizards are all ashes. For it is of old rumour that the soul of the devil-bought hastes not from his charnel clay, but fats and instructs the very worm that gnaws; till out of corruption horrid life springs, and the dull scavengers of earth wax crafty to vex it and swell monstrous to plague it. Great holes secretly are digged where earth’s pores ought to suffice, and things have learnt to walk that ought to crawl. Buried in the echoes of time immemorial is the Miskatonic Valley rite of the Festival. While the origins are lost in space and time, our holiday customs have been memorialized through oral tradition and the eons-long observation of our rituals, year after year. So, don your holiday ritual robes, grab your discordant flutes, hop on your limply-flopping demon mounts, take a swig of goat milk cocoa, and head down to the Stygian grotto to join the villagers of Kingsport as they observe the time-worn traditions of the Festival. Celebrate the season the Miskatonic Valley way! Refreshments provided by Arkham’s own Mother Shub and Zadok Allen Vineyard. Happy Yule, Kingsport! THE SPELL OF THE EASTERN SEA I was far from home, and the spell of the eastern sea was upon me. In the twilight I heard it pounding on the rocks, and I knew it lay just over the hill where the twisting willows writhed against the clearing sky and the first stars of evening. And because my fathers had called me to the old town beyond, I pushed on through the shallow, new-fallen snow along the road that soared lonely up to where Aldebaran twinkled among the trees; on toward the very ancient town I had never seen but often dreamed of. Sea salt, kelp, and twisting willows. THE MEMORY OF PRIMAL SECRETS It was the Yuletide, that men call Christmas though they know in their hearts it is older than Bethlehem and Babylon, older than Memphis and mankind. It was the Yuletide, and I had come at last to the ancient sea town where my people had dwelt and kept festival in the elder time when festival was forbidden; where also they had commanded their sons to keep festival once every century, that the memory of primal secrets might not be forgotten. Corrupt incense twinging through the huddled roofs of Kingsport on winter solstice night. OPIATE SOUTHERN GARDENS OF ORCHIDS Mine were an old people, and were old even when this land was settled three hundred years before. And they were strange, because they had come as dark furtive folk from opiate southern gardens of orchids, and spoken another tongue before they learnt the tongue of the blue-eyed fishers. And now they were scattered, and shared only the rituals of mysteries that none living could understand. I was the only one who came back that night to the old fishing town as legend bade, for only the poor and the lonely remember. Memories of alien gardens that crawl with wide swaths of vivid, soporific blossoms: gargantuan orchids, blood-purple poppies, and monstrous black peonies. THE BURYING-GROUND Beside the road at its crest a still higher summit rose, bleak and windswept, and I saw that it was a burying-ground where black gravestones stuck ghoulishly through the snow like the decayed fingernails of a gigantic corpse. The printless road was very lonely, and sometimes I thought I heard a distant horrible creaking as of a gibbet in the wind. They had hanged four kinsmen of mine for witchcraft in 1692, but I did not know just where. Despair and desolation in a potter’s field: black soil and memories of screams on the pyre. VILLAGE LEGEND LIVES LONG I had seen maps of the town, and knew where to find the home of my people. It was told that I should be known and welcomed, for village legend lives long; so I hastened through Back Street to Circle Court, and across the fresh snow on the one full flagstone pavement in the town, to where Green Lane leads off behind the Market house. The old maps still held good, and I had no trouble; though at Arkham they must have lied when they said the trolleys ran to this place, since I saw not a wire overhead. Snow would have hid the rails in any case. I was glad I had chosen to walk, for the white village had seemed very beautiful from the hill; and now I was eager to knock at the door of my people, the seventh house on the left in Green Lane, with an ancient peaked roof and jutting second story, all built before 1650. The scent of ancient families harboring ancient secrets: thin dribbles of frankincense, bitter cistus, hollow myrrh, pale chamomile, and dark, furtive opoponax. A LOW CANDLE-LIT ROOM He beckoned me into a low, candle-lit room with massive exposed rafters and dark, stiff, sparse furniture of the seventeenth century. The past was vivid there, for not an attribute was missing. There was a cavernous fireplace and a spinning-wheel at which a bent old woman in loose wrapper and deep poke-bonnet sat back toward me, silently spinning despite the festive season. An indefinite dampness seemed upon the place, and I marvelled that no fire should be blazing. The high-backed settle faced the row of curtained windows at the left, and seemed to be occupied, though I was not sure. I did not like everything about what I saw, and felt again the fear I had had. This fear grew stronger from what had before lessened it, for the more I looked at the old man’s bland face the more its very blandness terrified me. The eyes never moved, and the skin was too like wax. Finally I was sure it was not a face at all, but a fiendishly cunning mask. But the flabby hands, curiously gloved, wrote genially on the tablet and told me I must wait a while before I could be led to the place of festival. Candle wax and waxen “skin”, rotting leather and reeking damp wood, and the ashes of a yawning, cold fireplace. WHISPERS OF MONSTROUS THINGS Pointing to a chair, table, and pile of books, the old man now left the room; and when I sat down to read I saw that the books were hoary and mouldy, and that they included old Morryster’s wild Marvells of Science, the terrible Saducismus Triumphatus of Joseph Glanvill, published in 1681, the shocking Daemonolatreia of Remigius, printed in 1595 at Lyons, and worst of all, the unmentionable Necronomicon of the mad Arab Abdul Alhazred, in Olaus Wormius’ forbidden Latin translation; a book which I had never seen, but of which I had heard monstrous things whispered. Yellowed fragments of vellum and parchment scrawled with unnamable horrors invoking ghastly abominations: decaying papers and moldering leather with sickly-sweet tonka, inky musk, black sandalwood, black fig, sugandh kokila, and pimento leaf. A THOUGHT AND A LEGEND TOO HIDEOUS FOR SANITY OR CONSCIOUSNESS No one spoke to me, but I could hear the creaking of signs in the wind outside, and the whir of the wheel as the bonneted old woman continued her silent spinning, spinning. I thought the room and the books and the people very morbid and disquieting, but because an old tradition of my fathers had summoned me to strange feastings, I resolved to expect queer things. So I tried to read, and soon became tremblingly absorbed by something I found in that accursed Necronomicon; a thought and a legend too hideous for sanity or consciousness. But I disliked it when I fancied I heard the closing of one of the windows that the settle faced, as if it had been stealthily opened. It had seemed to follow a whirring that was not of the old woman’s spinning-wheel. This was not much, though, for the old woman was spinning very hard, and the aged clock had been striking. After that I lost the feeling that there were persons on the settle, and was reading intently and shudderingly when the old man came back booted and dressed in a loose antique costume, and sat down on that very bench, so that I could not see him. It was certainly nervous waiting, and the blasphemous book in my hands made it doubly so. When eleven struck, however, the old man stood up, glided to a massive carved chest in a corner, and got two hooded cloaks; one of which he donned, and the other of which he draped round the old woman, who was ceasing her monotonous spinning. Then they both started for the outer door; the woman lamely creeping, and the old man, after picking up the very book I had been reading, beckoning me as he drew his hood over that unmoving face or mask. The clock strikes eleven: black rose, oudh, rosewood, and sea-kissed patchouli, and the smoke of a snuffed tallow candle. ELDRITCH DRUNKEN CONSTELLATIONS We went out into the moonless and tortuous network of that incredibly ancient town; went out as the lights in the curtained windows disappeared one by one, and the Dog Star leered at the throng of cowled, cloaked figures that poured silently from every doorway and formed monstrous processions up this street and that, past the creaking signs and antediluvian gables, the thatched roofs and diamond-paned windows; threading precipitous lanes where decaying houses overlapped and crumbled together, gliding across open courts and churchyards where the bobbing lanthorns made eldritch drunken constellations. Dizzying, swirling, starry madness: eucalyptus sap, white tea leaf, and ambergris foam. DEATH-FIRES DANCING OVER THE TOMBS There was an open space around the church; partly a churchyard with spectral shafts, and partly a half-paved square swept nearly bare of snow by the wind, and lined with unwholesomely archaic houses having peaked roofs and overhanging gables. Death-fires danced over the tombs, revealing gruesome vistas, though queerly failing to cast any shadows. Past the churchyard, where there were no houses, I could see over the hill’s summit and watch the glimmer of stars on the harbour, though the town was invisible in the dark. Only once in a while a lanthorn bobbed horribly through serpentine alleys on its way to overtake the throng that was now slipping speechlessly into the church. I waited till the crowd had oozed into the black doorway, and till all the stragglers had followed. The old man was pulling at my sleeve, but I was determined to be the last. Then I finally went, the sinister man and the old spinning woman before me. Crossing the threshold into that swarming temple of unknown darkness, I turned once to look at the outside world as the churchyard phosphorescence cast a sickly glow on the hill-top pavement. And as I did so I shuddered. For though the wind had not left much snow, a few patches did remain on the path near the door; and in that fleeting backward look it seemed to my troubled eyes that they bore no mark of passing feet, not even mine. Icicles and stone illuminated by unholy fire. THE BOUNDLESS VISTA OF AN INNER WORLD Then I saw the lurid shimmering of pale light, and heard the insidious lapping of sunless waters. Again I shivered, for I did not like the things that the night had brought, and wished bitterly that no forefather had summoned me to this primal rite. As the steps and the passage grew broader, I heard another sound, the thin, whining mockery of a feeble flute; and suddenly there spread out before me the boundless vista of an inner world—a vast fungous shore litten by a belching column of sick greenish flame and washed by a wide oily river that flowed from abysses frightful and unsuspected to join the blackest gulfs of immemorial ocean. Salted citron, black coconut, wormwood, and oily labdanum oozing through fungal mosses and sick, greenish subterranean flora. TITAN TOADSTOOLS AND LEPROUS FIRE Fainting and gasping, I looked at that unhallowed Erebus of titan toadstools, leprous fire, and slimy water, and saw the cloaked throngs forming a semicircle around the blazing pillar. It was the Yule-rite, older than man and fated to survive him; the primal rite of the solstice and of spring’s promise beyond the snows; the rite of fire and evergreen, light and music. And in the Stygian grotto I saw them do the rite, and adore the sick pillar of flame, and throw into the water handfuls gouged out of the viscous vegetation which glittered green in the chlorotic glare. I saw this, and I saw something amorphously squatted far away from the light, piping noisomely on a flute; and as the thing piped I thought I heard noxious muffled flutterings in the foetid darkness where I could not see. But what frightened me most was that flaming column; spouting volcanically from depths profound and inconceivable, casting no shadows as healthy flame should, and coating the nitrous stone above with a nasty, venomous verdigris. For in all that seething combustion no warmth lay, but only the clamminess of death and corruption. Viscous vegetation, slimy water, suffocating incense: death cap and false morel with green frankincense, black copal, Spanish moss, celery seed, and lime rind over stagnant black liquid and decaying kelp. HORROR UNTHINKABLE AND UNEXPECTED The man who had brought me now squirmed to a point directly beside the hideous flame, and made stiff ceremonial motions to the semicircle he faced. At certain stages of the ritual they did grovelling obeisance, especially when he held above his head that abhorrent Necronomicon he had taken with him; and I shared all the obeisances because I had been summoned to this festival by the writings of my forefathers. Then the old man made a signal to the half-seen flute-player in the darkness, which player thereupon changed its feeble drone to a scarce louder drone in another key; precipitating as it did so a horror unthinkable and unexpected. At this horror I sank nearly to the lichened earth, transfixed with a dread not of this nor any world, but only of the mad spaces between the stars. The mad spaces between the stars: oakmoss, myrrh, vetiver, rectified cade, ravinsara, wild verbena, and neroli. PITS AND GALLERIES OF PANIC Out of the unimaginable blackness beyond the gangrenous glare of that cold flame, out of the Tartarean leagues through which that oily river rolled uncanny, unheard, and unsuspected, there flopped rhythmically a horde of tame, trained, hybrid winged things that no sound eye could ever wholly grasp, or sound brain ever wholly remember. They were not altogether crows, nor moles, nor buzzards, nor ants, nor vampire bats, nor decomposed human beings; but something I cannot and must not recall. They flopped limply along, half with their webbed feet and half with their membraneous wings; and as they reached the throng of celebrants the cowled figures seized and mounted them, and rode off one by one along the reaches of that unlighted river, into pits and galleries of panic where poison springs feed frightful and undiscoverable cataracts. Membranous green mandarin with dread-choked black sandalwood, opoponax, pine tar, mimosa, mugwort, and acrid tagetes. THE PUTRESCENT JUICE OF EARTH’S INNER HORRORS Presently the old man drew back his hood and pointed to the family resemblance in his face, but I only shuddered, because I was sure that the face was merely a devilish waxen mask. The flopping animals were now scratching restlessly at the lichens, and I saw that the old man was nearly as restless himself. When one of the things began to waddle and edge away, he turned quickly to stop it; so that the suddenness of his motion dislodged the waxen mask from what should have been his head. And then, because that nightmare’s position barred me from the stone staircase down which we had come, I flung myself into the oily underground river that bubbled somewhere to the caves of the sea; flung myself into that putrescent juice of earth’s inner horrors before the madness of my screams could bring down upon me all the charnel legions these pest-gulfs might conceal. Perfect and absolute mental collapse: black pomegranate and vetiver with rose otto, rue, red patchouli, petitgrain, myrrh, and cacao absolute. MOTHER SHUB’S UNMENTIONABLE PEPPERMINT CREAMS Diabolically decadent! Bone-chilling mint swirled in thick globules of marzipan cream. MOTHER SHUB’S SQUAMOUS SEA SALT CARAMEL COOKIES Dusted with mineral-rich salts dredged from the foetid depths of the Nameless Sea! MOTHER SHUB’S PUMPKIN PECAN TREACLE TARTS Popularized by the reality TV show “Real Cultists of Arkham Hills”! OLD KETURAH ZADOK’S CRANBERRY CIDER From a 13th century recipe plundered from the vaults of the Zadok family’s cellars! ++ YULE 2013 ALMOND BLOSSOM Even iron can put forth, Even iron. This is the iron age, But let us take heart Seeing iron break and bud, Seeing rusty iron puff with clouds of blossom. The almond-tree, December's bare iron hooks sticking out of earth. The almond-tree, That knows the deadliest poison, like a snake In supreme bitterness. Upon the iron, and upon the steel, Odd flakes as if of snow, odd bits of snow, Odd crumbs of melting snow. But you mistake, it is not from the sky; From out the iron, and from out the steel, Flying not down from heaven, but storming up, Strange storming up from the dense under-earth Along the iron, to the living steel In rose-hot tips, and flakes of rose-pale snow Setting supreme annunciation to the world. Nay, what a heart of delicate super-faith, Iron-breaking, The rusty swords of almond-trees. Trees suffer, like races, down the long ages. They wander and are exiled, they live in exile through long ages Like drawn blades never sheathed, hacked and gone black, The alien trees in alien lands: and yet The heart of blossom, The unquenchable heart of blossom! Look at the many-cicatrised frail vine, none more scarred and frail, Yet see him fling himself abroad in fresh abandon From the small wound-stump. Even the wilful, obstinate, gummy fig-tree Can be kept down, but he'll burst like a polyp into prolixity. And the almond-tree, in exile, in the iron age! This is the ancient southern earth whence the vases were baked, amphoras, craters, cantharus, oenochoe, and open-hearted cylix, Bristling now with the iron of almond-trees Iron, but unforgotten, Iron, dawn-hearted, Ever-beating dawn-heart, enveloped in iron against the exile, against the ages. See it come forth in blossom From the snow-remembering heart In long-nighted January, In the long dark nights of the evening star, and Sirius, and the Etna snow-wind through the long night. Sweating his drops of blood through the long-nighted Gethsemane Into blossom, into pride, into honey-triumph, into most exquisite splendour. Oh, give me the tree of life in blossom And the Cross sprouting its superb and fearless flowers! Something must be reassuring to the almond, in the evening star, and the snow-wind, and the long, long, nights, Some memory of far, sun-gentler lands, So that the faith in his heart smiles again And his blood ripples with that untenable delight of once-more-vindicated faith, And the Gethsemane blood at the iron pores unfolds, unfolds, Pearls itself into tenderness of bud And in a great and sacred forthcoming steps forth, steps out in one stride A naked tree of blossom, like a bridegroom bathing in dew, divested of cover, Frail-naked, utterly uncovered To the green night-baying of the dog-star, Etna's snow-edged wind And January's loud-seeming sun. Think of it, from the iron fastness Suddenly to dare to come out naked, in perfection of blossom, beyond the sword-rust. Think, to stand there in full-unfolded nudity, smiling, With all the snow-wind, and the sun-glare, and the dog-star baying epithalamion. Oh, honey-bodied beautiful one, Come forth from iron, Red your heart is. Fragile-tender, fragile-tender life-body, More fearless than iron all the time, And so much prouder, so disdainful of reluctances. In the distance like hoar-frost, like silvery ghosts communing on a green hill, Hoar-frost-like and mysterious. In the garden raying out With a body like spray, dawn-tender, and looking about With such insuperable, subtly-smiling assurance, Sword-blade-born. Unpromised, No bounds being set. Flaked out and come unpromised, The tree being life-divine, Fearing nothing, life-blissful at the core Within iron and earth. Knots of pink, fish-silvery In heaven, in blue, blue heaven, Soundless, bliss-full, wide-rayed, honey-bodied, Red at the core, Red at the core, Knotted in heaven upon the fine light. Open, Open, Five times wide open, Six times wide open, And given, and perfect; And red at the core with the last sore-heartedness, Sore-hearted-looking. - DH Lawrence Something must be reassuring to the almond, in the evening star, and the snow-wind, and the long, long, nights: almond blossom, hoar-frost, and snow-wind. BLACK ICE 2013 Lovely, dangerous, slick, and bitterly cold: chilly white sleet-like notes with a hint of vetiver, a breath of smoky asphalt, and winter wind. BUTTER RUM COOKIE 2013 A boozy addition to the devil's bake sale! Rum-soaked butter cookies, crusted with sugar, soaked in almond and garnished with orange rind. CHANUKKIYAH 2013 Baruch ata Ado-nai, Elo-heinu Melech ha'olam, Asher kid'shanu b'mitzvosav v'tzivanu l'hadlik ner shel Chanukah. Baruch ata Ado-nai, Elo-heinu Melech ha'olam, She'asah nisim la'avoseinu, bayamim ha'hem baz'man hazeh. Baruch ata Ado-nai, Elo-heinu Melech ha'olam, She'hecheyanu, vekiyemanu vehigi'anu laz'man hazeh. Olive oil, beeswax, glowing amber, sweet sufganiyot, pomegranate, and fig. Ha'Neiros halalu anachnu madlikin al hanisim ve'al hanifla'os, ve'al hat'shu'os ve'al hamilchamos, sh'asisa la'avoseinu bayamim hahem baz'man hazeh, al yedei kohaneicha hakedoshim. Vechol sh'monas yemei Chanukah, haneiros halalu kodesh hem. Ve'ein lanu reshus le'hishtamesh ba'hem, eh'la lir'osam bilvad, ke'dei le'hodos u'lehalel leshimcha hagadol al nisecha ve'al nifle'osecha ve'al yeshu'oshecha. Ma'oz tzur yeshu'asi Lecha na'eh leshabe'ach Tikone bais tefilasi Ve'sham todah nezabe'ach Le'es Tachin Mabe'ach Mitzar ham'nabe'ach Az egmor beshir mizmor Chanukas hamizbe'ach. DAYS OF WINTER SUNSHINE “Are the days of winter sunshine just as sad for you, too? When it is misty, in the evenings, and I am out walking by myself, it seems to me that the rain is falling through my heart and causing it to crumble into ruins.” ― Gustave Flaubert Rain falling through the heart: carrot seed, frankincense, white jasmine, sea buckthorn berry, and iris. DEATH’S SECOND SELF That time of year thou mayst in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang. In me thou seest the twilight of such day As after sunset fadeth in the west, Which by and by black night doth take away, Death's second self, that seals up all in rest. In me thou see'st the glowing of such fire That on the ashes of his youth doth lie, As the death-bed whereon it must expire Consumed with that which it was nourish'd by. This thou perceivest, which makes thy love more strong, To love that well which thou must leave ere long. - Sonnet 73, William Shakespeare Yellowed leaves, pale frankincense, solemn amber, and ashes. EGG NOG 2013 Sweet brandy, dark rum, heavy cream, sugar, and a dash of nutmeg. El DIA DE LOS REYES 2013 The Day of Kings, the Celebration of the Magi. In Mexico, on January 6th, children place their shoes by their windows. If they have been good during the previous year, the Wise Men tuck gifts into their shoes during the night. Hot cocoa with cinnamon, coffee, and brown sugar. FAUNALIA 2013 Held on December 5th, this is the festival of the Horned God of the Forest, one of the di indigetes of Rome, god of cattle, fertility, wild, untamed nature, and prophecy through dreams. The scent of a thick, starlit, unspoiled forest, with a burst of wild musk, opobalsamum, black bryony, mandragora, and hemlock. THE FIRST SOFT SNOW 2013 The first soft snow! Enough to bend the leaves Of the jonquil low. Heavy drifts of snow blanketing winter's narcissus. THE FRUIT OF PARADISE 2013 While Persephone visited the realm of Hades, she tasted one single pomegranate seed, an act which compelled her to remain connected to the Land of the Dead for all eternity. Demeter's grief over her beloved daughter's absence that brings on the bleakness and barrenness of the winter months. The Fruit of Paradise, the Nectar of Death: bittersweet pomegranate. THE GARDEN IN WINTER Frosty-white and cold it lies Underneath the fretful skies; Snowflakes flutter where the red Banners of the poppies spread, And the drifts are wide and deep Where the lilies fell asleep. But the sunsets o'er it throw Flame-like splendor, lucent glow, And the moonshine makes it gleam Like a wonderland of dream, And the sharp winds all the day Pipe and whistle shrilly gay. Safe beneath the snowdrifts lie Rainbow buds of by-and-by; In the long, sweet days of spring Music of bluebells shall ring, And its faintly golden cup Many a primrose will hold up. Though the winds are keen and chill Roses' hearts are beating still, And the garden tranquilly Dreams of happy hours to be¬ In the summer days of blue All its dreamings will come true. - Lucy Maud Montgomery Swaths of red poppies, white roses, graceful winter lilies, and sun-bright primroses beaming from beneath a flutter of snowflakes. GO TO SLEEP, DARLINGS “I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields, that it kisses them so gently? And then it covers them up snug, you know, with a white quilt; and perhaps it says "Go to sleep, darlings, till the summer comes again.” ― Lewis Carroll, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland & Through the Looking-Glass Kiss-soft clouds of spun-sugar snow. KRAMPUS 2013 Anything BUT jolly! Draped with chains and bells, wielding both whip and rod, this rag-clad, horned, red-skinned, soot-covered leering creature is both the companion and the antithesis of rosy-cheeked and ebullient Kris Kringle. He is called by many names, and, in a myriad of cultures, he is seen with different robes and faces, but he is nevertheless always a sinister and fearsome instrument of Santa's wrath: he wields a switch on all irredeemably naughty children before tossing them into his large black sack and whisking them away. Be good, or Krampus will toss you in a river! Sinister red musk, black leather, dusty rags, and wooden switches. KRAMPUSLAUFEN On December 5th, the eve of St. Nicholas day, a veritable storm of Krampi swarm the streets of Bavaria. Wielding sticks and chains, they inspire the hearts of naughty children with terror. Smoke, fur, and rusty chains with apple schnapps, malted chocolate bonbons, and Bavarian mints. LA BEFANA 2013 On the night of the Epiphany, a joyful, broomstick-riding hag clad in a tattered shawl drops into chimneys all over Italy, bestowing gifts to good children, and dropping coal into the stockings of naughty kiddies. La Befana vien di notte Con le scarpe tutte rotte Col vestito alla Romana Viva, Viva La Befana! As the Three Wise Men searched for the house of the Christ child, they found themselves lost. Eventually, they stopped at a small house and knocked on the door. A small, wizened woman opened the door, holding a broom in her hand. The Astrologers asked the woman if she knew the location of the child, but, unfortunately, she did not know who these men were looking for, and could not aid them in their search. It was deep into the night, and the air was chilly, so the kindly woman offered the three men her hospitality. They spent the night in her warm, comfortable home, and shared bread and stories with one another. The Astrologers explained to the woman why they were looking for this blessed infant, and invited her to join them in their search come morning. Though she was touched by their tale, she declined, as she had a great deal of housework to do. At daybreak, the Astrologers awoke. They thanked the woman for her generosity, gathered their things, and prepared to leave. Before they departed, they, again, asked the old woman if she would like to join them on their journey. Again, she declined, and sent them on their way. After they had left, she regretted her decision, and she set off to find the Three Wise Men. After many long and frustrating hours of searching, she still could not find them. Saddened, yet still filled with hope, she stopped to give a gift to every good child she passed. La Befana comes by night With her shoes old and broken She comes dressed in the Roman way Long life to the Befana! Candy charcoal, winter lilies, parma violet, a sprig of cypress, a poof of chimney dust, and holiday sweets. LE PÈRE FOUETTARD 2013 Once upon a time, there lived a stone-hearted, evil butcher and his grasping, covetous wife. Their shop was located near a parochial boarding school in a small village in eastern France. One day, three little boys passed the butcher's shop. Their clothes were neat and starched, and the wicked couple fancied that they could see gold stitching on the little boys' shirtcuffs. The butcher's eyes gleamed with avarice, and he hatched an evil plan to rob the children. His wife enticed the little boys into the shop and fed them poisoned sweets. Her husband then slit their throats, chopped their little bodies into pieces, and put the pieces into barrels. Good Saint Nicholas discovered the monstrous crime, and, through God's grace, resurrected the little boys. He confronted the vile butcher and forced him to atone for his crime. The butcher became Le Père Fouettard, Saint Nicholas' partner on his Christmas travels. Dressed in a soot-covered black suit that mirrors Father Christmas' suit of red and white, he travels with Saint Nick and dispenses coal and floggings to naughty children. Whip leather, coal dust, gaufrette, and black licorice. LICK IT NOW Every holiday season should be full of lewd suggestions and filthy double entendres, right? This is a new take on past Lick Its -- a peppermint candy cane with an extra jolt of sugar, coated in more sugar, with sugar on that sugar. (As always, we have to state: don't lick perfume. Don't eat it, drink it, cook with it, or use it in any strange and unforeseen way. Black Phoenix is not responsible for that sort of irresponsible funnybusiness.) LIKE BROOMS OF STEEL Like brooms of steel The Snow and Wind Had swept the Winter Street, The House was hooked, The Sun sent out Faint Deputies of heat— The Apple in the cellar snug Where rode the Bird The Silence tied His ample, plodding Steed, Was all the one that played. - Emily Dickinson Sharp, metallic slices of snow and freezing wind with a faint hint of cellar dust, burlap, and apple. THE MAHOGANY TREE Christmas is here; Winds whistle shrill, Icy and chill, Little care we; Little we fear Weather without, Shelter'd about The Mahogany Tree. Once on the boughs Birds of rare plume Sang, in its bloom; Night birds are we; Here we carouse, Singing, like them, Perch'd round the stem Of the jolly old tree. Here let us sport, Boys, as we sit— Laughter and wit Flashing so free. Life is but short— When we are gone, Let them sing on, Round the old tree. Evenings we knew, Happy as this; Faces we miss, Pleasant to see. Kind hearts and true, Gentle and just, Peace to your dust! We sing round the tree. Care, like a dun, Lurks at the gate: Let the dog wait; Happy we 'll be! Drink every one; Pile up the coals, Fill the red bowls, Round the old tree. Drain we the cup.— Friend, art afraid? Spirits are laid In the Red Sea. Mantle it up; Empty it yet; Let us forget, Round the old tree. Sorrows, begone! Life and its ills, Duns and their bills, Bid we to flee. Come with the dawn, Blue-devil sprite, Leave us to-night, Round the old tree. - William Makepeace Thackeray Sorrows, begone! Sweet wine, sparkling laughter, warm companionship, and the song of night-birds under a canopy of rustling mahogany: robin-red currants, soft nightingale-brown tonka, glossy starling-black labdanum, hearth-warm amber, mahogany sap, winter woods, a splash of Muscat, and gentle Christmas snow. MIDNIGHT MASS 2013 I will wash my hands among the innocent; and will compass thy altar, O Lord: That I may hear the voice of thy praise: and tell of all thy wondrous works. I have loved, O Lord, the beauty of thy house; and the place where thy glory dwelleth. Take not away my soul, O God, with the wicked: nor my life with bloody men: In whose hands are iniquities: their right hand is filled with gifts. But as for me, I have walked in my innocence: redeem me, and have mercy on me. My foot hath stood in the direct way: in the churches I will bless thee, O Lord. In Roman Catholic tradition, the Christmas season begins liturgically on Christmas Eve, though it is forbidden to celebrate the Christmas Mass before midnight. The most devout attend Midnight Mass, celebrating both the Eucharist and the drama of the Nativity. This perfume is a traditional Roman Catholic sacramental incense, most often used during a Solemn Mass. Traditionally, five tears of this incense, each encased individually in wax that has been fashioned into the shape of a nail, are inserted into the paschal candle. This is, of course, represents the Five Wounds of Our Risen Savior. Symbolically, the burning of the incense signifies spiritual fervor, the fragrance itself inspires virtue, and the rising smoke carries our prayers to God. Credo in unum Deum, Patrem omnipotentem, factorem caeli et terrae, visibilium omnium et invisibilium. Et in unum Dominum Iesum Christum, Filium Dei unigenitum, et ex Patre natum ante omnia saecula. Deum de Deo, Lumen de Lumine, Deum verum de Deo vero, genitum non factum, consubstantialem Patri; per quem omnia facta sunt. Qui propter nos homines et propter nostram salutem descendit de caelis. Et incarnatus est de Spiritu Sancto ex Maria Virgine, et homo factus est. Crucifixus etiam pro nobis sub Pontio Pilato, passus et sepultus est, et resurrexit tertia die, secundum Scripturas, et ascendit in caelum, sedet ad dexteram Patris. Et iterum venturus est cum gloria, iudicare vivos et mortuos, cuius regni non erit finis. Et in Spiritum Sanctum, Dominum et vivificantem, qui ex Patre procedit. Qui cum Patre et Filio simul adoratur et conglorificatur: qui locutus est per prophetas. Et unam, sanctam, catholicam et apostolicam Ecclesiam. Confiteor unum baptisma in remissionem peccatorum. Et expecto resurrectionem mortuorum, et vitam venturi saeculi. Amen. NUCLEAR WINTER 2013 Annihilation. The ice, desolation and barrenness of nuclear devastation shot through by a beam of radioactive mints. PEACOCK QUEEN 2013 In dramatic contrast to the soft innocence of Snow White and the dew-kissed freshness of her sister, Rose Red, this is a blood red, voluptuous rose, velvet-petaled, at the height of bloom. Haughty and imperious, vain, yet incomparably lovely to the eye, but thick with thorns of jealousy, pride and hatred. PICTURE-BOOKS IN WINTER Summer fading, winter comes Frosty mornings, tingling thumbs, Window robins, winter rooks, And the picture story-books. Water now is turned to stone Nurse and I can walk upon; Still we find the flowing brooks In the picture story-books. All the pretty things put by, Wait upon the children's eye, Sheep and shepherds, trees and crooks, In the picture story-books. We may see how all things are Seas and cities, near and far, And the flying fairies' looks, In the picture story-books. How am I to sing your praise, Happy chimney-corner days, Sitting safe in nursery nooks, Reading picture story-books? - Robert Louis Stevenson The wild joy of story time on a frosty winter morning: the well-loved, well-worn leather of old fairy tale books, the sweet mustiness of antique paper, fae glimmers of twinkling crystalline flowers, and a chunk of Scottish Tablet. PINK SNOWBALLS 2013 A lighthearted winter scent: chilly vanilla rose snowballs! Dainty, soft, and certainly unfit for flinging! PURPLE SNOWBALLS Sugar plum snowballs with a touch of currant and cardamom! ROSE RED 2013 The perfected winter rose, dew covered and freshly cut. SKADI 2013 The Snow-Shoe Goddess, Giantess, the Norse embodiment of winter. Frost-rimed winter berries, crisp pine needle, and a slush of bright snowy notes. SNOW WHITE 2013 A chilly, bright perfume: flurries of virgin snow, crisp winter wind and the faintest breath of night-blooming flowers. STARDUST 2013 When the holidays roll around, not everyone has mistletoe, caroling and cookies on their minds. This scent is a paean to celebrating hard: nights covered in glitter and dusted with cocaine, flutes of Cristal clutched in shaky hands, leather and lace, the Spiders From Mars in the background, and twisting, sweaty limbs entangled in dark corners. Hairspray and cigarette smoke is the incense in this temple to decadence, strobe and mirrors replace the devotional candles, and Bolan sings the hymns. This scent is for everyone that has every drifted off into Quaalude-induced reverie to the beat of a tribal 4-on-the-floor: the sound of Mott the Hoople, Sweet, Slade or the Dolls. This scent reflects the futurism, self-indulgence and excess of the Glitter 70's: champagne, white mandarin, tuberose, ylang ylang and flashing white musk with jonquil, tobacco flower, Queen of the Night blossom, white sandalwood and a pale poppy. TO JUAN AT THE WINTER SOLSTICE There is one story and one story only That will prove worth your telling, Whether are learned bard or gifted child; To it all lines or lesser gauds belong That startle with their shining Such common stories as they stray into. Is it of trees you tell, their months and virtues, Or strange beasts that beset you, Of birds that croak at you the Triple will? Or of the Zodiac and how slow it turns Below the Boreal Crown, Prison of all true kings that ever reigned? Water to water, ark again to ark, From woman back to woman: So each new victim treads unfalteringly The never altered circuit of his fate, Bringing twelve peers as witness Both to his starry rise and starry fall. Or is it of the Virgin's silver beauty, All fish below the thighs? She in her left hand bears a leafy quince; When, with her right she crooks a finger smiling, How may the King hold back? Royally then he barters life for love. Or of the undying snake from chaos hatched, Whose coils contain the ocean, Into whose chops with naked sword he springs, Then in black water, tangled by the reeds, Battles three days and nights, To be spewed up beside her scalloped shore? Much snow is falling, winds roar hollowly, The owl hoots from the elder, Fear in your heart cries to the loving-cup: Sorrow to sorrow as the sparks fly upward. The log groans and confesses There is one story and one story only. Dwell on her graciousness, dwell on her smiling, Do not forget what flowers The great boar trampled down in ivy time. Her brow was creamy as the crested wave, Her sea-blue eyes were wild But nothing promised that is not performed. - Robert Graves A prayer to the White Goddess: Pale rose, sweet clover, and bergamot for the Maiden. Hazelnut, honey, and myrtle and for the Mother. Black cypress, myrrh, and white sandalwood for the Crone. THE VISIONARY Silent is the house: all are laid asleep: One alone looks out o’er the snow-wreaths deep, Watching every cloud, dreading every breeze That whirls the wildering drift, and bends the groaning trees. Cheerful is the hearth, soft the matted floor; Not one shivering gust creeps through pane or door; The little lamp burns straight, its rays shoot strong and far: I trim it well, to be the wanderer’s guiding-star. Frown, my haughty sire! chide, my angry dame! Set your slaves to spy; threaten me with shame: But neither sire nor dame nor prying serf shall know, What angel nightly tracks that waste of frozen snow. What I love shall come like visitant of air, Safe in secret power from lurking human snare; What loves me, no word of mine shall e’er betray, Though for faith unstained my life must forfeit pay. Burn, then, little lamp; glimmer straight and clear— Hush! a rustling wing stirs, methinks, the air: He for whom I wait, thus ever comes to me; Strange Power! I trust thy might; trust thou my constancy. - Emily Brontë What I love shall come like a visitant of air. The wild freedom of the snow-gleaming heath thrusting through the dull safety of the hearth and the doldrums of the bleak, rolling moors. Lush, honeyed red musk twined with heart-thrilling white musk on passion-warmed skin against a backdrop of raw, iced peat, common heather, and hearth wood. A WINTER DAWN Above the marge of night a star still shines, And on the frosty hills the somber pines Harbor an eerie wind that crooneth low Over the glimmering wastes of virgin snow. Through the pale arch of orient the morn Comes in a milk-white splendor newly-born, A sword of crimson cuts in twain the gray Banners of shadow hosts, and lo, the day! - Lucy Maud Montgomery The soft splendor of dawn in winter: pearlescent pink grapefruit, neroli, helichrysum, freesia, white mandarin, and rockrose rising behind a dapple of snowflakes. WINTER STARS I went out at night alone; The young blood flowing beyond the sea Seemed to have drenched my spirit’s wings— I bore my sorrow heavily. But when I lifted up my head From shadows shaken on the snow, I saw Orion in the east Burn steadily as long ago. From windows in my father’s house, Dreaming my dreams on winter nights, I watched Orion as a girl Above another city’s lights. Years go, dreams go, and youth goes too, The world’s heart breaks beneath its wars, All things are changed, save in the east The faithful beauty of the stars. - Sara Teasdale Dreaming my dreams on winter nights: starry blue musk with mugwort, white mandarin, rockrose, and snow. YELLOW SNOWBALLS 2013 Because I am very, very crass. Slushy white mint, vanilla cream, lemon drops, grapefruit, and yuzu! ++ YULE: GINGERBREAD COTILLION NOW you shall hear a story that somebody's great-great-grandmother told a little girl ever so many years ago: There was once a little old man and a little old woman, who lived in a little old house in the edge of a wood. They would have been a very happy old couple but for one thing -- they had no little child, and they wished for one very much. One day, when the little old woman was baking gingerbread, she cut a cake in the shape of a little boy, and put it into the oven. Presently she went to the oven to see if it was baked. As soon as the oven door was opened, the little gingerbread boy jumped out, and began to run away as fast as he could go. The little old woman called her husband, and they both ran after him. But they could not catch him. And soon the gingerbread boy came to a barn full of threshers. He called out to them as he went by, saying: I've run away from a little old woman, A little old man, And I can run away from you, I can! Then the barn full of threshers set out to run after him. But, though they ran fast, they could not catch him. And he ran on till he came to a field full of mowers. He called out to them: I've run away from a little old woman, A little old man, A barn full of threshers, And I can run away from you, I can! Then the mowers began to run after him, but they couldn't catch him. And he ran on till he came to a cow. He called out to her: I've run away from a little old woman, A little old man, A barn full of threshers, A field full of mowers, And I can run away from you, I can! But, though the cow started at once, she couldn't catch him. And soon he came to a pig. He called out to the pig: I've run away from a little old woman, A little old man, A barn full of threshers, A field full of mowers, A cow, And I can run away from you, I can! But the pig ran, and couldn't catch him. And he ran till he came across a fox, and to him he called out: I've run away from a little old woman, A little old man, A barn full of threshers, A field full of mowers, A cow and a pig, And I can run away from you, I can! Then the fox set out to run. Now foxes can run very fast, and so the fox soon caught the gingerbread boy and began to eat him up. Presently the gingerbread boy said, "Oh dear! I'm quarter gone!" And then, "Oh, I'm half gone!" And soon, "I'm three-quarters gone!" And at last, "I'm all gone!" and never spoke again. GINGERBREAD SATYR I've run away from a little old woman, A little old man, A barn full of threshers, A field full of mowers, A cow and a pig, And I can run away from you, I can! Gingerbread with red musk, brown musk, civet and ambergris accord, Ceylon cinnamon, black cedar, black moss, and pine tar. GINGERBREAD SNAKE Oh dear! I’m a quarter gone! Gingerbread and exotic Indonesian oils sugared with vanilla. GINGERBREAD TROLL Oh, I’m half gone! Gingerbread with vetiver, pine pitch, troll musk, black basil, clove smoke, and scorched cumin. GINGERBREAD VILLAIN I’m three-quarters gone! Gingerbread fougere, with hints of lilac, lime, and citrus musk. GINGERBREAD ZOMBI I’m all gone! Gingerbread with dried roses, rose leaf, Spanish moss, oakmoss and deep brown earth. ++ YULE: BRIAN KESINGER’S OTTO AND VICTORIA Inspired by Brian Kesinger’s Otto and Victoria! We love Otto & Victoria! OTTO & VICTORIA: BRAVING THE ICE White mint cookies with a drizzle of pomegranate cream, dusted with confectioner’s sugar. OTTO & VICTORIA: YULE COOKIES Clouds of flour and spices with the scent of ginger tea, warm caraway cakes, snickerdoodle pinwheels, and sugar cookies with sweet orange frosting. Next up: table rapping, a ghostly photo shoot, some ectoplasm, and the BPTP Yules!

Terrible Moon is Terrible! MOON OF THE TERRIBLE On New Year's Day each thought a loneliness as winter dusk descends Desolation at the last moment in the gloaming on New Year's Day: winter snow with white lavender, benzoin, lychee, white resins, and a cluster of melancholy, lachrymose lunar herbs. Illustration for Moon of the Terrible by our dear friend, the limitlessly talented Tanya Bjork! The Moon of the Terrible tee is live at Black Phoenix Trading Post! - - - 11th ANNIVERSARY Happy birthday to my oldest child, Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab! Mama's little punim... A million, trillion, thanks and gratitude beyond words to all of our friends and customers that have been with us through the last eleven years. You have extended my family a thousand-fold, and I am grateful for every single one of you. Thank you for sharing your lives with us, thank you for your kindness, your support, and your laughter, and thank you for the joy and pleasure I find in your friendship. With all of my love... Thank you, Brian, for being the foundation upon which BPAL stands. BPAL would not exist without your wisdom and good counsel, and every moment of my life is enriched by your friendship. You are the best of friends, and there isn’t a day that goes by that I’m not grateful for you, you big lug. Ted, I love you. You are my soulmate, my light, and my strength. I love you with every part of my soul, and every moment with you – no matter how mundane it may seem – is poetry in my heart. Thank you, my Lilith, my heart, for being my inspiration. You are my tiny muse, and I love you completely, always and forever. Thank you, Jacquelynn, for all of your hard work, dedication, and ingenuity. You are amazing beyond words, and I am grateful for you and for everything you do! Thank you, Lisa, for your wit and wisdom, for your kindness and aid, and for your friendship. You are a saint, and I love you! Thank you, Piolet, for being an oasis of calm, no matter how crazy things get here! Thank you for your hard work and your strength of character, and thank you for always making me laugh. Thank you, Will, for your hard work, diligence, and dedication! Thank you to Sue and Del at Dark Delicacies for everything you do. Thank you for giving a second home to Black Phoenix, and thank you for being the greatest grandparents a little demoness could ask for! Thank you, Sara, for all the skill, love, joy, and dedication that you invest into every event you help us with! You are a wonderful woman, and I adore you! Kaitlin, I adore you. You have no idea how truly, truly grateful I am for all of the blood, sweat, and tears that you have invested in working on our new site. You are a beautiful person in every way, in every conceivable sense of the word. Thank you, Cat, for being the dearest of friends. Thank you for your kind heart, thank you for your compassion, and thank you for always being there for me. Thank you, Shana, for helping us spread the word! Thank you for your talent, buoyant humor, and infectious enthusiasm! You are a truly good woman, and I’m grateful beyond words. Love you! Thank you, Forest, for being a true friend. Your noble spirit is an inspiration, and I’m so very thankful for our friendship. I love you, lady! Thank you to the mods and administrators of bpal.org. I love you guys as much as I love my own blood, and I’m grateful not only for all that you do to run the forum, but for the gift – the blessing – of your friendship. I know you guys know how much I love you, but I’m going to keep repeating it! Thank you, Em, for always being there to help me with my weird questions and concerns, and for always having my back. I love you. Thank you to Jen, Lisa, Sue, Greg, Sara, and Tom for making this year’s travelling medicine show possible. Thank you so much for being there for us, and for giving so much of yourselves to the events! Thank you, Donna, for babysitting BPAL again! You are a lifesaver! I love you! Thank you, Courtney, for being my New England Sister! Thank you for being such an amazing friend, and thank you for all the passion and love you put into every New England Will Call event! Huge amounts of love and HUGE amounts of gratitude to Laura Hall and all the wonderful people at Laika studios. Your generosity and kindness is beyond measure. Thank you to Thomas, Melissa, and Chandra (and Thomas Jr!) at Century Guild. You are wonderful people, and I love you! Thank you to Neil Gaiman, Amanda Palmer, Peter S. Beagle, Terry Pratchett, Terry Moore, Mike and Christine Mignola, George Perez, Peter David, Molly Crabapple, Mark Waid, Thomas Negovan, Storm Constantine, Matt Wagner, Jim Henson Productions, Brian Pulido, Joseph Michael Linsner, Eva Hopkins, Gris Grimly, George RR Martin, Clive Barker, Mark Miller, David Mack, Gail Potocki, Erin Morgenstern, and Ysanne Spevak for giving Black Phoenix the opportunity to interpret your work. Thank you, Carolyn Hennesy, for being a wonderful friend and a constant joy. Your stories are adorable, your talent is boundless, and you are the dearest of friends! Thank you, Tom, for everything you do to help us while we’re on the road, and thank you for doing all you can to integrate Black Phoenix into your work. I love you, and I’m grateful for our friendship! Thank you to the noble souls at the Comic Book Legal Defense Fund and the Hero Initiative. You are an inspiration. Thank you, Charles, for being an inspiration and a true friend. When is our next trip to NOLA?! Much thanks to Peter S. Beagle and Connor Cochran for their friendship. You bring so much joy to so many people! Love and thanks to the artists that have lent us their talent: Adam Hughes, Alicia Dabney, Julie Dillon, Madame Talbot, Quique Alcatena, Jennifer Rodgers, Manda Lander, Keri Newton, Nick Pavik, Tanya Bjork, Andrew Fogel, Brian Kessinger, Abigail Larson, Aidan Casserly, and Sarah Coleman! Love and thanks to Century Guild, the Mütter Museum, Heretic Salon, Whole Foods, Pretty Indulgent, Healthy Living, and Dark Delicacies for giving our products a home in your stores! Love and thanks to the bloggers, journalists, magazines, and other media outlets that taken the time to write about Black Phoenix. Honestly, I cannot thank you enough. And lastly, I’d like to thank the skekSi’s of Thra for their support, friendship, wise counsel, and fashion tips. The world is a better place because you all are in it. What I’ve said before, I’ll say again: Thank you for sharing our joy and for standing with us during difficult times. The family that has grown around BPAL is like no other in the world. Every time I wander into the forum, I see people supporting one another in times of need, showing selfless kindness and offering support to one another… to me, you all are models of emotional generosity and true friendship, and it is truly an honor to be a part of your lives. I cannot express my gratitude enough. Thank you for celebrating the beauty of living with us, and for holding our hands during times of stress and sorrow. This year has been turbulent for just about everyone we know. It’s been a hard year filled with challenges and hidden lessons, but none of it is insurmountable because we all have this tremendous, genuinely loving family. Thank you. THANK YOU! And without further ado, the Anniversary scents! ++ DE FENICE Visions of the Phoenix throughout history. Fenix Arabie avis dicta quod colorem feniceum habeat, vel quod sit in toto orbe singularis et unica. Hec quingentos ultra annos vivens, dum se viderit senuisse, collectis aromatum virgultis, ro gum sibi instruit, et conversa ad radium solis alarum plausu voluntarium sibi incendium nutrit, seque urit. BARUCH’S PHOENIX And he took me and led me where the sun goes forth; and he showed me a chariot and four, under which burnt a fire, and in the chariot was sitting a man, wearing a crown of fire, (and) the chariot (was) drawn by forty angels. And behold a bird circling before the sun, about nine cubits away. And I said to the angel, What is this bird? And he said to me, This is the guardian of the earth. And I said, Lord, how is he the guardian of the earth? Teach me. And the angel said to me, This bird flies alongside of the sun, and expanding his wings receives its fiery rays. For if he were not receiving them, the human race would not be preserved, nor any other living creature. But God appointed this bird thereto. And he expanded his wings, and I saw on his right wing very large letters, as large as the space of a threshing-floor, the size of about four thousand modii; and the letters were of gold. And the angel said to me, Read them. And I read, and they ran thus: Neither earth nor heaven bring me forth, but wings of fire bring me forth. And I said, Lord, what is this bird, and what is his name? And the angel said to me, His name is called Phoenix. (And I said), And what does he eat ? And he said to me, The manna of heaven and the dew of earth. And I said, Does the bird excrete? And he said to me, He excretes a worm, and the excrement of the worm is cinnamon, which kings and princes use. But wait and thou shalt see the glory of God. And while he was conversing with me, there was as a thunder-clap, and the place was shaken on which we were standing. And I asked the angel, My Lord, what is this sound? And the angel said to me, Even now the angels are opening the three hundred and sixty-five gates of heaven, and the light is being separated from the darkness. And a voice came which said, Light giver, give to the world radiance. And when I heard the noise of the bird, I said, Lord, what is this noise? And he said, This is the bird who awakens from slumber the cocks upon earth. For as men do through the mouth, so also does the cock signify to those in the world, in his own speech. For the sun is made ready by the angels, and the cock crows. And I said, And where does the sun begin its labours, after the cock crows? And the angel said to me, Listen, Baruch: All things whatsoever I showed thee are in the first and second heaven, and in the third heaven the sun passes through and gives light to the world. But wait, and thou shall see the glory of God. And while I was conversing with him, I saw the bird, and he appeared in front, and grew less and less, and at length returned to his full size. And behind him I saw the shining sun, and the angels which draw it, and a crown upon its head, the sight of which we were not able to gaze upon; and behold. And as soon as the sun shone, the Phoenix also stretched out his wings. But I, when I beheld such great glory, was brought low with great fear, and I fled and hid in the wings of the angel. And the angel said to me, Fear not, Baruch, but wait and thou shalt also see their setting. And he took me and led me towards the west; and when the time of the setting came, I saw again the bird coming before it, and as soon as he came I saw the angels, and they lifted the crown from its head. But the bird stood exhausted and with wings contracted. And beholding these things, I said, Lord, wherefore did they lift the crown from the head of the sun, and wherefore is the bird so exhausted? And the angel said to me, The crown of the sun, when it has run through the day four angels take it, and bear it up to heaven, and renew it, because it and its rays have been defiled upon earth; moreover it is so renewed each day. And I Baruch said, Lord, and wherefore are its beams defiled upon earth? And the angel said to me, Because it beholds the lawlessness and unrighteousness of men, namely fornications, adulteries, thefts, extortions, idolatries, drunkenness, murders, strife, jealousies, evil-speakings, murmurings, whisperings, divinations, and such like, which are not well-pleasing to God. On account of these things is it defiled, and therefore is it renewed. But thou askest concerning the bird, how it is exhausted. Because by restraining the rays of the sun through the fire and burning heat of the whole day, it is exhausted thereby. For, as we said before, unless his wings were screening the rays of the sun, no living, creature would be preserved. - Greek Apocalypse of Baruch Born in radiance, defiled, and resplendently renewed: Atlas cedar, white fig, sugared date, sweet orange, golden honey, white sandalwood, benzoin, galbanum, and bitter almond. EZEKIEL’S PHOENIX Another living creature we saw, full wondrous, such as man has never seen; ’twas near in scope to twice the eagle’s size, with plumage iridescent, rainbow-hued. Its breast appeared deep-dyed with purple’s shade, its legs were red like ochre, and its neck was furnished round with tresses saffron-hued; like a coxcomb did its crest appear, with amber-tinted eye it gazed about, the pupil like some pomegranate seed. Exceeding all, its voice pre-eminent; of every wing’d thing, the king, it did appear. For all the birds, as one, in fear did haste to follow after him, and he before, like some triumphant bull went striding forth with rapid step apace. - Ezekiel the Tragedian, the Exagoge Its breast appeared deep-dyed with purple’s shade, its legs were red like ochre, and its neck was furnished round with tresses saffron-hued; like a coxcomb did its crest appear, with amber-tinted eye it gazed about, the pupil like some pomegranate seed: wild plum, North African saffron, frankincense, pomegranate, limonite accord, and golden amber. HERODOTUS’ PHOENIX They have also another sacred bird called the phoenix which I myself have never seen, except in pictures. Indeed it is a great rarity, even in Egypt, only coming there (according to the accounts of the people of Heliopolis) once in five hundred years, when the old phoenix dies. Its size and appearance, if it is like the pictures, are as follow:- The plumage is partly red, partly golden, while the general make and size are almost exactly that of the eagle. They tell a story of what this bird does, which does not seem to me to be credible: that he comes all the way from Arabia, and brings the parent bird, all plastered over with myrrh, to the temple of the Sun, and there buries the body. In order to bring him, they say, he first forms a ball of myrrh as big as he finds that he can carry; then he hollows out the ball, and puts his parent inside, after which he covers over the opening with fresh myrrh, and the ball is then of exactly the same weight as at first; so he brings it to Egypt, plastered over as I have said, and deposits it in the temple of the Sun. Such is the story they tell of the doings of this bird. - Herodotus, Histories A fragrant shroud: myrrh from Yemen, Oman, and West Africa with a touch of copal and frankincense. HESIOD’S PHOENIX A chattering crow lives out nine generations of aged men, but a stag's life is four times a crow's, and a raven's life makes three stags old, while the phoenix outlives nine ravens, but we, the rich-haired Nymphs, daughters of Zeus the aegis-holder, outlive ten phoenixes. - Hesoid, the Precepts of Chiron Golden amber, bourbon vanilla, and sweet oudh. OVID’S PHOENIX There is one bird which reproduces and renews itself: the Assyrians gave this bird his name—the Phoenix. He does not live either on grain or herbs, but only on small drops of frankincense and juices of amomum. When this bird completes a full five centuries of life straightway with talons and with shining beak he builds a nest among palm branches, where they join to form the palm tree's waving top. As soon as he has strewn in this new nest the cassia bark and ears of sweet spikenard, and some bruised cinnamon with yellow myrrh, he lies down on it and refuses life among those dreamful odors.—And they say that from the body of the dying bird is reproduced a little Phoenix which is destined to live just as many years. When time has given to him sufficient strength and he is able to sustain the weight, he lifts the nest up from the lofty tree and dutifully carries from that place his cradle and the parent's sepulchre. As soon as he has reached through yielding air the city of Hyperion, he will lay the burden just before the sacred doors within the temple of Hyperion. - Ovid, Metamorphoses Fitful dreams of the cradle and sepulchre: honey, cassia bark, sweet spikenard, cinnamon, and yellow myrrh. PLINY’S PHOENIX The phoenix, of which there is only one in the world, is the size of an eagle. It is gold around the neck, its body is purple, and its tail is blue with some rose-colored feathers. It has a feathered crest on its head. No one has ever seen the Phoenix feeding. In Arabia it is sacred to the sun god. It lives 540 years; when it is old it builds a nest from wild cinnamon and frankincense, fills the nest with scents, and lies down on it until it dies. From the bones and marrow of the dead phoenix there grows a sort of maggot, which grows into a bird the size of a chicken. This bird performs funeral rites for its predecessor, then carries the whole nest to the City of the Sun near Panchaia and places it on an altar there. - Pliny, Natural History Wild cinnamon and frankincense. TACITUS’ PHOENIX That it is a creature sacred to the sun, differing from all other birds in its beak and in the tints of its plumage, is held unanimously by those who have described its nature. As to the number of years it lives, there are various accounts. The general tradition says five hundred years. Some maintain that it is seen at intervals of fourteen hundred and sixty-one years, and that the former birds flew into the city called Heliopolis successively in the reigns of Sesostris, Amasis, and Ptolemy, the third king of the Macedonian dynasty, with a multitude of companion birds marvelling at the novelty of the appearance. But all antiquity is of course obscure. From Ptolemy to Tiberius was a period of less than five hundred years. Consequently some have supposed that this was a spurious phoenix, not from the regions of Arabia, and with none of the instincts which ancient tradition has attributed to the bird. For when the number of years is completed and death is near, the phoenix, it is said, builds a nest in the land of its birth and infuses into it a germ of life from which an offspring arises, whose first care, when fledged, is to bury its father. This is not rashly done, but taking up a load of myrrh and having tried its strength by a long flight, as soon as it is equal to the burden and to the journey, it carries its father's body, bears it to the altar of the Sun, and leaves it to the flames. All this is full of doubt and legendary exaggeration. Still, there is no question that the bird is occasionally seen in Egypt. - Tacitus, Annals The Incense of the Altar of the Sun: ambrette seed, olibanum, benzoin, labdanum, galbanum, frankincense, calamus, clove bud, and orange peel. - - - In other gnus... Our west coast full moon event is this Sunday at Dark Delicacies, 4pm til 7pm. We’re hosting our annual food and toy drives at this shindig /and/ at our December will call. Double the freebies and double the aid! This year’s charity drive scents are inspired by Pieter Bruegel the Elder -- For every $10 in food that you donate, you will receive a 5ml bottle of THE HARVESTERS Pear trees, boiled oats, and wine beside a ripe field of wheat waving under a late-summer sun. For every toy valued at $10 or more that you bring, you will receive a 5ml bottle of HUNTERS IN THE SNOW The scent of a calm, grey winter’s day: bare trees and cooking fires, thick blankets of snow, and icy, frozen rivers. We are offering these oils while supplies last, and cannot guarantee that any Will Call location will be able to fulfill all donation exchanges. We’ll do our best! Food donations made at our Los Angeles will call will support the Burbank Temporary Aid Center, and the toys will be donated to the Los Angeles location will be given to Spark of Love, the Los Angeles County Fire Department’s toy collection campaign. The west coast will call event will be held on Sunday, November 17th from 4 to 7pm at Dark Delicacies. Dark Delicacies 3512 W. Magnolia Blvd (1 block east of Hollywood Way) Burbank, CA 91505 www.darkdel.com New England will call will be hosting their food & toy drive at their will call in December! - - - Visit the BPAL site on Black Friday, Small Business Saturday, or Cyber Monday... PROGRESSUS Make a purchase at Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab on Black Friday, Small Business Saturday, or Cyber Monday, and receive a free imp of PROGRESSUS: a blend of Solar oils believed to generate abundance, augment success, and bestow good fortune, including golden amber, honey laurel, heliotrope, saffron, and Atlas cedar. - - - Up next, Yuletide and Krampusnacht. Have you been naughty or nice?

Our west coast full moon event is this Sunday at Dark Delicacies, 4pm til 7pm. We’re hosting our annual food and toy drives at this shindig /and/ at our December will call. Double the freebies and double the aid! This year’s charity drive scents are inspired by Pieter Bruegel the Elder -- For every $10 in food that you donate, you will receive a 5ml bottle of THE HARVESTERS Pear trees, boiled oats, and wine beside a ripe field of wheat waving under a late-summer sun. For every toy valued at $10 or more that you bring, you will receive a 5ml bottle of HUNTERS IN THE SNOW The scent of a calm, grey winter’s day: bare trees and cooking fires, thick blankets of snow, and icy, frozen rivers. We are offering these oils while supplies last, and cannot guarantee that any Will Call location will be able to fulfill all donation exchanges. We’ll do our best! Food donations made at our Los Angeles will call will support the Burbank Temporary Aid Center, and the toys will be donated to the Los Angeles location will be given to Spark of Love, the Los Angeles County Fire Department’s toy collection campaign. The west coast will call event will be held on Sunday, November 17th from 4 to 7pm at Dark Delicacies. Dark Delicacies 3512 W. Magnolia Blvd (1 block east of Hollywood Way) Burbank, CA 91505 www.darkdel.com New England will call will be hosting their food & toy drive at their will call in December! - - - Visit the BPAL site on Black Friday, Small Business Saturday, or Cyber Monday… PROGRESSUS Make a purchase at Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab on Black Friday, Small Business Saturday, or Cyber Monday, and receive a free imp of PROGRESSUS: a blend of Solar oils believed to generate abundance, augment success, and bestow good fortune, including golden amber, honey laurel, heliotrope, saffron, and Atlas cedar.

Further incentive! For every bottle you purchase of Single Note: Sampaguita, we will throw in an imp of Bliss in the Pumpkin Patch!

Further incentive! For every bottle you purchase of Single Note: Sampaguita, we will throw in an imp of Bliss in the Pumpkin Patch!

In order to help alleviate the suffering caused by Typhoon Haiyan, Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab is releasing Single Note: Sampaguita a month early. Proceeds from the sale of every single bottle will go to support local recovery efforts through Community and Family Services International and the Philippine Red Cross. SINGLE NOTE: SAMPAGUITA Little sampaguita With the wondering eye Did a tiny fair Drop you where you lie? In the witching hour Of the tropic night Did the careless moonbeam Leave you in its fight? - Natividad Marquez (Ana Maria Chavez) A symbol of purity, strength, and humility, sampaguita is the national flower of the Philippines, my mother’s homeland. Heady, yet cool and slightly green: jasmine sambac with a hint of tea leaf.

Black Phoenix Trading Post will be dark from Monday, November 4th til Sunday, November 10th. Trading Post orders will still be packed and shipped during that time, but customer service will be on a brief hiatus. Mr. Ted will be on radio silence, and will not be able to answer emails, forum pm’s, or FB messages. Teddy and his goblins will back at your beck and call on Monday, November 11th! If you have an emergency while BPTP is shuttered, please email Lisa at answers@blackphoenixalchemylab.com. BPAL won't have access to any BPTP order or shipment information, but we will do our best to help with any questions.

Wanna show off your pumpkin carving skills?

In 1863, a coterie of opium-addled Massachusetts musicians were drawn to the dark, forested foothills of the Silent Mountains. Upon their arrival, they heard the monotonous piping of an unseen flute that led them to a dark sigil that had been burned into a strange stone outcropping. On that day, both the Society of the Gibbering Sons of Hideous Azathoth and the Miskatonic Valley Philharmonic were born... Please join us in ringing in the Miskatonic Valley Philharmonic's 150th season! Commemorative scents are available at Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab, and MVP tees are available at Black Phoenix Trading Post! Logo design by Tanya Bjork! Also at the 'Post -- ALL HALLOWS' READ Celebrate Neil Gaiman's Halloween tradition by sharing the scare! This holiday season, give the gift of horror lit to friends, family, neighbors, and random people passing you on the street! To commemorate All Hallows’ Read 2013, Black Phoenix Trading Post has conspired with Neil Gaiman and Neverwear to create this ghastly bottle stand. Featuring the graves of three of horror’s greatest and equipped to house three BPAL bottles, this is a must for every literature-lover’s macabre mantelpiece! The idea of it is incredibly simple this Halloween give somebody a scary book, to read. That’s the idea. We’re not saying don’t give candy, candy is important, fake blood is important, Zombie teeth are incredibly important… Err do they have Zombie teeth? If they have Zombie Teeth they would be incredibly important. The point is, give somebody a scary book. Give kids scary books that kids would like. Give adults scary books that adults would like. If you have friends give them scary book that friends would like. Buy scary books for them, borrow scary books for them. Get them second hand. Check them out of the library… Spread the joy… and the terror. -Neil Gaiman Also available at Black Phoenix Trading Post, an All Hallows' Read scent by Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab -- ALL HALLOWS' APPLE Fallen apples, grave moss, autumn leaves, and upturned earth. Both the All Hallows' Read Bottle Graveyard and All Hallows' Apple are available at Black Phoenix Trading Post while supplies last! Proceeds from sales of the All Hallows’ Read Bottle Graveyard and the All Hallows’ Apple scent benefit the CBLDF. Bookmarks with his adorable ‘Trick or Treat’ illustration are available at Neverwear! Please give them a visit for more All Hallows' Read goodness! All Hallows’ Read Bottle Graveyard sculpted by Michael Locascio! All Hallows' Apple label artwork by Sean Von Gorman! Please note: the All Hallows’ Read Bottle Graveyard and All Hallows’ Apple will not begin shipping until November 13th.

Beaver Moon is rising over Black Phoenix! BEAVER MOON(S) 2013 Beaver Moon is named thus for a very obvious reason: during this time of year, beavers are hard at work building their dams and preparing for the onset of winter. Generally, we use this opportunity to abuse the name of this Moon by turning it into a double entendre. This year, we are offering our traditionally sleazy interpretation, plus a vision of Beaver Moon presented in a serious light. BEAVER MOON I Thick, creamy cheesecake with thyme, lemon zest, and sugared pear. BEAVER MOON II This is the scent of thick branches of maple, quaking aspen, and willow held together by river mud, a feast of sedge and water lilies, and the first quiet breath of winter's night flowing over warm brown fur. Artwork by Keri Newton! The tee is available at Black Phoenix Trading Post now! This month's single note... WHITE SAGE White sage is a potent herb of purification, protection, and healing, and has been used as a ceremonial incense for hundreds of years. Medicinally, white sage can be used as an antiseptic, and I think this makes an excellent metaphor: the herb and oil are spiritual disinfectants, preventing putrefaction of the soul. Meanwhile, at Black Phoenix Trading Post: BLISS SMOOCH We are thrilled to announce another Black Phoenix Trading Post / Villainess collaborative project! BPTP and Villainess have teamed up to create Bliss Smooch - concocted by Villainess, scented by Black Phoenix! A shot of pure, self-indulgent euphoria! A scent that is very, very wicked in its own way: the serotonin-slathered scent of pure milk chocolate. BLACK CAT HALLOWEEN TAROT TEE Have an aversion to the Swords suit? Think the Tower is bad news? They've got nothin' on this kitty. Illustrated by our dear friend, Tanya! MASSIVE BPAL LOGO MUG At Black Phoenix, we love coffee. We also love tea. We love caffeine so much that our sweat could give you a buzz. In order to accommodate our caffeine needs, we now carry humongous 20oz mugs. It's the next best thing to an IV drip. BPAL logo revamp by our dear friend, Nick Pavik! BADASS PEN Write your next masterpiece with our SUPER FANCY VERY AWESOME branded orange pens! Blue ink + orange case for an extra burst of Mercury creativity! And now for the bad news: Hellboy, Kali, Galvanic Goggles, Coyote, Ogygia, Cthulhu, and Jack are all temporarily unavailable. We will let you know as soon as they're ready to move again!

The remaining bottles of Time’s Infliction of Eternity are live on the Century Guild web site now. They’re also running low on Hatta, Nevar, and Wormwood Field. So, if you want them, now’s the time. Once they’re gone, they’re gone! http://centuryguild.net/collections/fragmented-alice-merchandise/products/times-infliction-of-eternity-bpal

Happy Halloween! Leaves are a-stirrin’, cider is a-brewin’, and pumpkins are aglow at Black Phoenix Trading Post! A trillion thanks to Ms. Kaitlin Reeves of Form and Function for helping us get the Halloween update up and running! Live, and o-so-Halloweenie – the first in our Inspirations series! Illustrated by Abigail Larson! BRAM STOKER No man knows till he has suffered from the night how sweet and dear to his heart and eye the morning can be. MARY SHELLEY 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. Bathe in autumnal bliss: ++ BPTP HALLOWEEN BATH OIL AUTUMN DUSK Frankincense, black copal, and myrrh veiled in night-blooming jasmine, black rose, smoky patchouli leaf, and a dribble of red wine. BOO Eerie billows of spun sugar, fluttering white cotton, and sheets of cream. CARAMEL APPLES AND ANCIENT OAKS Sticky-sweet caramel apples and a gentle rain of apple blossoms clutched by gnarled oak boughs. PUMPKIN ICE CREAM Lightly spiced pumpkin ice cream! Want to liven (deaden?) up your atmosphere? We can help! -- ++ BPTP HALLOWEEN ATMOSPHERE SPRAYS BALEFIRE A crack in the door to the underworld: blackened leaves, woodsmoke and flame, dusty mullein, and apple bark against a backdrop of sepulchral myrrh. BLACK POMEGRANATE AND BLACKCURRANT Piquant, tart, and strangely hypnotic. DIA DE LOS MUERTOS A joyous celebration of La Catarina, La Flaca, La Muerte... Glorious, Beautiful Death. In Mexico, death is not something to be feared or hated; She is embraced, loved, and adored. La Muerte is fêted, as the celebrant "...chases after it, mocks it, courts it, hugs it, sleeps with it; it is his favorite plaything and his most lasting love." This is a Mexican paean to La Huesuda: dry, crackling leaves, the incense smoke of altars honoring Death and the Dead, funeral bouquets, the candies, chocolates, foods and tobacco of the ofrenda, amaranth, sweet cactus blossom and desert cereus. PUMPKIN S’MORES Pumpkin marshmallows smushed into brown sugar-dusted graham crackers with melted chocolate and a hint of campfire smoke. ++ BPTP HALLOWEEN CANDLES AUTUMN MIDNIGHT Frankincense, honeycomb, black copal, and myrrh veiled in night-blooming jasmine, dusky amber, black rose, smoky patchouli leaf, bitter cacao, and a dribble of red wine. PUMPKIN CLOVE Warm pumpkin and Madagascar clove bud. SPIKED APPLE CIDER Spiced apple cider livened up with a splash of apple brandy. SWEET GINGER AND FRANKINCENSE Oman frankincense with unpeeled Ginger rhizome and Italian bergamot. TOBACCO POMEGRANATE Blood red pomegranate with tobacco absolute, Haitian tobacco leaf, and oudh. Our candles are handcrafted by Sara Robey! Many, many thanks to our beloved Sara for lending us her time and limitless talent! Work out those kinks with our limited edition autumn massage oil: ++ BPTP LIMITED EDITION AUTUMN MASSAGE OIL PATCHOULI CLOVE A decadently warming blend of three patchoulis, Himalayan cedar, and a touch of sweet clove. Tricksy has returned from the grave! This time, she’s a perfume… ++ BPTP HALLOWEEN LIMITED EDITION PERFUME TRICKSY Patchouli, aquilaria aguillocha, and Manuka honey. Also Halloweenie, two new tees! One is limited… Illustration by Abigail Larson! Due to the zomg number of colors in this piece, we’ve tried something new with Abigail’s Halloween art. This tee was printed using the DTG process, and isn’t silkscreened like BPTP’s other tees. And the other is an addition to our permanent collection! Illustration by Tanya Bjork! This Fall, we are thrilled to introduce the Hallowenches of Black Phoenix Trading Post! The Ladies of Samhain were lovingly illustrated by Aidan Casserly! ++ BPTP HALLOWEEN 2013: CALLIDORA, THE VAMP CALLIDORA PERFUME Blood musk, Egyptian myrrh, Mayan cacao, 7-year aged red patchouli, Siamese benzoin, and tobacco absolute. BLOODBATH BATH OIL This vamp’s secret to eternal youth: red musk, black patchouli, rose milk, and sugar blossom. SILKYBAT HAIR GLOSS Sensual sugared patchouli. ++ LAVINA, THE CREATURE LAVINA PERFUME Ruby peppermint, Moroccan white mint, red currant, wild plum, neroli, green tea, and cassis. RECHARGING STATION BATH OIL An invigorating shock of eucalyptus petals, white mint, pink lime, and rosemary! LIGHTNING STORM HAIR GLOSS Vivid flashes of dazzling electricity: white mint, white tea, white ginger, a jolt of yuzu, and electric green lime! ++ SYLVIA, THE SHE-WOLF SYLVIA PERFUME Snuggly brown musk spicy carnation, leather balsam, bourbon vanilla, terebinth pine, yew berry, and a touch of clove. SUDSY SHE-WOLF BATH OIL The warmest, snuggiest way to tame a savage beast: hazelnut coffee with dark chocolate, sweet fig milk, warm brown amber, and terebinth pine. SHINY FURBALL HAIR GLOSS Smell like you’ve been on a Full Moon Stalk even when you’re at the office! Himalayan cedar, vanilla musk, lavender, black clove, honeyed coconut, fir balsam, and juniper berry! Now with natural flea repellants! (FOR WEREBEAST USE ONLY. DO NOT SPRAY ON PETS, PLS!)

The first scents from our Gail Potocki-inspired BPAL line for her Fragmented Alice series are live on the Century Guild web site! Tonight's event exclusive, Time's Infliction of Eternity, will be live on their site today only, and will be on sale tonight at Gail's closing event! If you are in the neighborhood, please join us tonight, from 7-10 at Century Guild!

An October vision of Harvest Moon is our Lunacy this month: HARVEST MOON 2013 Under the harvest moon, When the soft silver Drips shimmering Over the garden nights, Death, the gray mocker, Comes and whispers to you As a beautiful friend Who remembers. Under the summer roses When the flagrant crimson Lurks in the dusk Of the wild red leaves, Love, with little hands, Comes and touches you With a thousand memories, And asks you Beautiful, unanswerable questions. - Carl Sandburg Red roses and wild red leaves. The Harvest Moon tee is available at Black Phoenix Trading Post! Artwork by Tanya Bjork! We’ve plucked some Oakmoss for your perusal -- ++ SINGLE NOTES OAKMOSS ACCORD Oakmoss is a lichen that grows on the branches and trunks of conifers and deciduous trees. Oakmoss’ scent can vary, depending on how it is grown and which tree has housed it. Generally, it is deep, earthy, green, moist, and tenacious, though oakmoss grown on pine trees may possess a thinner, sharper scent. Some extractions smell vaguely leathery, and some are velvety green, while others can be dry and woodsy. In perfumery, oakmoss is considered a base note, and it is often employed as a fixative. It adds depth, a sense of grounding, and solemnity, and acts as an anchor for more capricious notes. And a new subsection of our catalogue is debuting! ++ INSPIRATION This is a paean to all the writers, artists, poets, dramatists, composers, sculptors, scientists, inventors and innovators that inspire us. The accompanying tees are available at our sister site, Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab. MARY SHELLEY Illustrated by Abigail Larson. Purchase the tee here! 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 oriental perfume. BRAM STOKER Illustrated by Abigail Larson. Purchase the tee here! No man knows till he has suffered from the night how sweet and dear to his heart and eye the morning can be. Bourbon vetiver with opoponax, Italian bergamot, and hay absolute. Coming up next… Black Phoenix Trading Post’s Halloweenies! - - - A gentle reminder! -- On September 21st, Century Guild is hosting a closing party for Gail Potocki’s phenomenal Fragmented Alice series, and Black Phoenix will be there debuting our new collaboration with the artist! We'll also have an event exclusive for the evening: Time’s Infliction of Eternity, a sanguine blend of Dragon’s Blood sedum and black tea. Time’s Infliction of Eternity will ONLY be sold on the evening of the event! The Fragmented Alice scents that will be debuting are: WORMWOOD FIELD Wormwood accord, pink lime, yuzu, thyme flower, hinoki, cedar wood, and green musk. HATTA Copaiba balsam, battered brown leather, and Ceylon cinnamon. NEVAR Black plum and opium poppy with violet leaf and petal, white musk, indigo incense smoke, olibanum, vetiver, and cacao. And the rest of the upcoming Fragmented Alice scents will be on display for you to experience! Wormwood Field, Hatta, and Nevar are limited to 250 bottles each, and when they’re gone… they’re gone. They will be sold the night of the event, and the remainder will be sold through Century Guild and the BPAL site soon afterwards. Join us on the 21st! Gail Potocki’s Fragmented Alice: Closing Night September 21, 2013 7-10pm CENTURY GUILD 6150 Washington Blvd Culver City, CA 90232 1.800.610.2368 http://centuryguild.net/

Happy Friday the 13th, all! 13 13 is significant, whether you consider it lucky, unlucky or just plain odd. Many believe it to be unfortunate… …because there were 13 present at the Last Supper. …Loki crashed a party of 12 at Valhalla, which ended in Baldur's death. …Oinomaos killed 13 of Hippodamia's suitors before Pelops finally, in his own shady way, defeated the jealous king. …In ancient Rome, Hecate's witches gathered in groups of 12, the Goddess herself being the 13th in the coven. Concern over the number thirteen echoes back beyond the Christian era. Line 13 was omitted form the Code of Hammurabi. The shivers over Friday the 13th also have some interesting origins: …Christ was allegedly crucified on Friday the 13th. …On Friday, October 13, 1307, King Philip IV of France ordered the arrests of Jaques de Molay, Grand Master of the Knights Templar, and sixty of his senior knights. …In British custom, hangings were held on Fridays, and there were 13 steps on the gallows leading to the noose. To combat the superstition, Robert Ingersoll and the Thirteen Club held thirteen-men dinners during the 19th Century. Successful? Hardly. The number still invokes trepidation to this day. A recent whimsical little serial killer study showed that the following murderers all have names that total thirteen letters: Theodore Bundy Jeffrey Dahmer Albert De Salvo John Wayne Gacy And, with a little stretch of the imagination, you can also fit "Jack the Ripper" and "Charles Manson" into that equation. More current-era paranoia: modern schoolchildren stop their memorization of the multiplication tables at 12. There were 13 Plutonium slugs in the atomic bomb that was dropped on Nagasaki. Apollo 13 wasn't exactly the most successful space mission. All of these are things that modern triskaidekaphobes point to when justifying their fears. For some, 13 is an extremely fortuitous and auspicious number… …In Jewish tradition, God has 13 Attributes of Mercy. Also, there were 13 tribes of Israel, 13 principles of Jewish faith, and 13 is considered the age of maturity. …The ancient Egyptians believed that there were 12 stages of spiritual achievement in this lifetime, and a 13th beyond death. …The word for thirteen, in Chinese, sounds much like the word which means “must be alive”?. Thirteen, whether you love it or loathe it, is a pretty cool number all around. …In some theories of relativity, there are 13 dimensions. …It is a prime number, lucky number, star number, Wilson Prime, and Fibonacci number. …There are 13 Archimedean solids. AND… …There were 13 original colonies when the United States were founded. Says a lot about the US, doesn't it? A fortune’s wheel of thirteen lucky and unlucky herbs, spun around a rich, dark core of pure cacao: allspice berries, cascara sagrada, ladybug beans, cinnamon, catnip, sweet clove, cumin, huckleberry leaves and fruit, master root, copal negro, sarsaparilla, nutmeg, and green rice. And lookit! There are two new Friday the 13th tees over at Black Phoenix Trading Post! The Black Cat Friday the 13th Tee by Abigail Larson! The Unlucky Day Friday the 13th Tee by Aiden Casserly! 13, the fragrance, will be live until Saturday the 14th, and the tees will be live til Halloween! Also new at the ‘Post… ++ ALCHEMICAL SKULL WALL PLAQUE This alchemical skull wall plaque was created by wonderfully talented Michael Locascio. It is based on one of his original designs, which he modified so that it could hold and added two 5ml bottle holders just for Black Phoenix! These miniplaques are 5 3/4 inches tall and 4 ½ wide. Each plaque was cast in high quality resin and is hand-painted by the artist! And two new general catalogue soy candles! Crafted, as always, by Sara Robey! - ABSINTHE Fall under the spell of our Green Fairy! An intoxicating blend containing wormwood essence, light mints, cardamom, anise, hyssop, and the barest hint of lemon. PERVERSION Smoky rum and black tobacco with a whisper of steamy leather with a splash of crystalline chardonnay, layered over a sensual, sweet, and deceptively magnetic base of tonka. And a scent that Ted composed for Lilith -- CAPAX INFINITI Limited Edition (Lilith’s Birthday!) Scent Dear Lilith, Your giggle makes me smile. Your tears touch my heart. Your hugs give me strength. I love seeing the world through your eyes. Thank you for letting me hold your hand as we walk along your path of life. I love you infinity. Dad A scent warmed by a whole lot of love: honey-snuggled skin musk, sweet vanilla ice cream residue, and lavender oil (Lilith’s favorite!), with a gentle hint of Dorian. What’s that I smell in the air? Pumpkins, dry leaves, and candy corn? Must be Halloween at Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab… ++ HALLOWEEN 2013 A WORLD WHERE THERE ARE OCTOBERS October was a beautiful month at Green Gables, when the birches in the hollow turned as golden as sunshine and the maples behind the orchard were royal crimson and the wild cherry trees along the lane put on the loveliest shades of dark red and bronzy green, while the fields sunned themselves in aftermaths. Anne reveled in the world of color about her. "Oh, Marilla," she exclaimed one Saturday morning, coming dancing in with her arms full of gorgeous boughs" 'I'm so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers. It would be terrible if we just skipped from September to November, wouldn't it? Look at these maple branches. Don't they give you a thrill--several thrills? I'm going to decorate my room with them." An armload of maple boughs and a swirl of autumn leaves. ALL SOULS 2013 A day of remembrance and intercession. Without the prayers and sacrifices of their families and loved ones, the faithful departed may not be cleansed of their venal sins, and thereby cannot attain beatific vision. On November 2nd, prayers are sung and offerings are made to aid lost souls in transcending purgatory. An incense blend that invokes the higher qualities of mercy and compassion, mingled with the soft, sugared currant scent of offertory soul cakes. AUTUMN FANCIES Faded the clover now ;-- sere and withered the grasses: What dreams the matsumushi in the desolate autumn-fields? Strangely sad, I thought, sounded the bell of evening;-- Haply that tone proclaimed the night in which autumn dies! Viewing this autumn-moon, I dream of my native village Under the same soft light,--and the shadows about thy home. Dry grasses bathed in amber light, muted by gentle shadows. DAY OF SKULLS 2013 In Bolivia, many people hold to the tradition of keeping the skulls of their ancestors with them in their homes, caring for their remains. It is believed that each person has seven souls, and one of those souls stays with the skull after death, enabling a spirit to grant protection and prophetic dreams to their descendants, and to bless their families with good health and prosperity. The Bolivian Fiesta de las Natitas, or Dia de los Natitas, is a day of honor for these ancestors. Their skulls are dressed with fragrant blossoms, and offerings of cocoa leaves, alcohol, and cigarettes are made. White sandalwood, beeswax, and frankincense crowned by hydrangea, rose, and kantuta blossoms, dressed with tobacco, cocoa leaves and flowers from the sacred Cactus of the Four Winds. DARK PUMPKIN MEAD Thick, heady pumpkin mead sweetened with clover honey and a hint of maple. DIA DE LOS MUERTOS 2013 A joyous celebration of La Catarina, La Flaca, La Muerte... Glorious, Beautiful Death. In Mexico, death is not something to be feared or hated; She is embraced, loved, and adored. La Muerte is fêted, as the celebrant "...chases after it, mocks it, courts it, hugs it, sleeps with it; it is his favorite plaything and his most lasting love." This is a Mexican paean to La Huesuda: dry, crackling leaves, the incense smoke of altars honoring Death and the Dead, funeral bouquets, the candies, chocolates, foods and tobacco of the ofrenda, amaranth, sweet cactus blossom and desert cereus. FLOR DE MUERTO 2013 The orange marigold, or zempasúchitl, has been one of Death's symbols since the pre-Columbian era. The yellow and orange petals are believed to represent the rays of the sun, bringing joy and light to the souls dwelling in the realm of the dead. These flowers surround Day of the Dead altars to guide the spirits to their offerings. GHOSTS IN LOVE 2013 "Tell me, where do ghosts in love Find their bridal veils?" "If you and I were ghosts in love We'd climb the cliffs of Mystery, Above the sea of Wails. I'd trim your gray and streaming hair With veils of Fantasy From the tree of Memory. 'Tis there the ghosts that fall in love Find their bridal veils." - Vachel Lindsay White sandalwood, tobacco flower, lily of the valley, white carnation, and magnolia blossom with tea rose, labdanum, and oudh. GOBLIN MARKET Apples and quinces, Lemons and oranges, Plump unpecked cherries, Melons and raspberries, Bloom-down-cheeked peaches… Like honey to the throat, but poison in the blood. HAUNTED HOUSES All houses wherein men have lived and died Are haunted houses. Through the open doors The harmless phantoms on their errands glide, With feet that make no sound upon the floors. We meet them at the door-way, on the stair, Along the passages they come and go, Impalpable impressions on the air, A sense of something moving to and fro. There are more guests at table than the hosts Invited; the illuminated hall Is thronged with quiet, inoffensive ghosts, As silent as the pictures on the wall. The stranger at my fireside cannot see The forms I see, nor hear the sounds I hear; He but perceives what is; while unto me All that has been is visible and clear. We have no title-deeds to house or lands; Owners and occupants of earlier dates From graves forgotten stretch their dusty hands, And hold in mortmain still their old estates. The spirit-world around this world of sense Floats like an atmosphere, and everywhere Wafts through these earthly mists and vapours dense A vital breath of more ethereal air. Our little lives are kept in equipoise By opposite attractions and desires; The struggle of the instinct that enjoys, And the more noble instinct that aspires. These perturbations, this perpetual jar Of earthly wants and aspirations high, Come from the influence of an unseen star An undiscovered planet in our sky. And as the moon from some dark gate of cloud Throws o’er the sea a floating bridge of light, Across whose trembling planks our fancies crowd Into the realm of mystery and night,— So from the world of spirits there descends A bridge of light, connecting it with this, O’er whose unsteady floor, that sways and bends, Wander our thoughts above the dark abyss. - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Quiet, ineffective ghosts haunting the realm of mystery and night, stretching dusty hands back to homes and lifetimes unforgotten: pale gossamer musks swirling in thick, dense otherworldy vapours through cracks in dry wood and old, old stones. THE HELL-GATE OF IRELAND 2013 The Cave of Cruachan in Connaught, a province that was given to the Formorians after the Battle of Mag Tuired. On the first of November, a flock of malevolent copper-colored birds bursts forth from the mouth of the cave, ushering a host of restless ghosts and wicked goblins that torment the living by blighting crops, killing livestock, stealing away brides-to-be, and replacing infants with changelings. Smoldering brimstone, bitter labdanum, clove, black musk, and copper-colored feathers. JOHN BARLEYCORN 2013 There was three men come out o' the west their fortunes for to try, And these three men made a solemn vow, John Barleycorn must die, They plowed, they sowed, they harrowed him in, throwed clods upon his head, And these three men made a solemn vow, John Barleycorn was dead. Barley, beer, blood, and whiskey. LE REVENANT 2013 Comme les anges à l'oeil fauve, Je reviendrai dans ton alcôve Et vers toi glisserai sans bruit Avec les ombres de la nuit; Et je te donnerai, ma brune, Des baisers froids comme la lune Et des caresses de serpent Autour d'une fosse rampant. Quand viendra le matin livide, Tu trouveras ma place vide, Où jusqu'au soir il fera froid. Comme d'autres par la tendresse, Sur ta vie et sur ta jeunesse, Moi, je veux régner par l'effroi. - - - Like angels with wild beast's eyes I shall return to your bedroom And silently glide toward you With the shadows of the night; And, dark beauty, I shall give you Kisses cold as the moon And the caresses of a snake That crawls around a grave. When the livid morning comes, You'll find my place empty, And it will be cold there till night. I wish to hold sway over Your life and youth by fear, As others do by tenderness. -- Charles Baudelaire, translation by William Aggeler. A shroud of gardenia, narcissus, and sandalwood with ambrette seed, white cognac, muguet, davana, and white musk. MICTECACIHUATL 2013 Known as the Mistress of Bones and the Lady of the Dead, she is the Queen of Mictlan, the Aztec Underworld, who still presides over today's Day of the Dead rituals. Sometimes known now as La Huesuda, she brings peace and joy to the spirits of the deceased, and blesses the living who do honor to those who have passed before them. Copal, precious woods, South American spices, agave nectar, cigar tobacco, and roses. OOKY 2013's Ridiculous Halloweenie! Less spooky than Spooky, and nowhere near as creepy as Creepy, this is the scent of lightly spiced pumpkin candies, decorated with thick marzipan, sweetened with buttercream, an decorated with a touch of lemon zest. SAMHAIN 2013 Truly the scent of autumn itself — damp woods, fir needle, and black patchouli with the gentlest touches of warm pumpkin, clove, nutmeg, allspice, sweet red apple and mullein. SEPTEMBER MIDNIGHT Lyric night of the lingering Indian Summer, Shadowy fields that are scentless but full of singing, Never a bird, but the passionless chant of insects, Ceaseless, insistent. The grasshopper’s horn, and far-off, high in the maples, The wheel of a locust leisurely grinding the silence Under a moon waning and worn, broken, Tired with summer. Let me remember you, voices of little insects, Weeds in the moonlight, fields that are tangled with asters, Let me remember, soon will the winter be on us, Snow-hushed and heavy. Over my soul murmur your mute benediction, While I gaze, O fields that rest after harvest, As those who part look long in the eyes they lean to, Lest they forget them. - Sara Teasdale A myrrh-darkened amber chypre sweetened by newly-ripened black pomegranate. THEME IN YELLOW I spot the hills With yellow balls in autumn. I light the prairie cornfields Orange and tawny gold clusters And I am called pumpkins. On the last of October When dusk is fallen Children join hands And circle round me Singing ghost songs And love to the harvest moon; I am a jack-o'-lantern With terrible teeth And the children know I am fooling. - Carl Sandburg Ghost songs and love to the harvest moon: fresh pumpkins warmed by candlelight and aglow with Halloween joy. And the Phobos Collection: ...none more skilled than he to insinuate grasping terror and to steal courage from the heart; voices and hands innumerable has the monster, and aspects to assume at will; all-persuasive is he, and his onslaughts drive cities mad with horror. - Statius ++ HALLOWEEN 2013: PHOBOS EDITION ACHLUOPHOBIA Fear of darkness. Oppressive, stifling, suffocating, blinding: black patchouli, tobacco absolute, opoponax, and inky black musk. NOCTIPHOBIA Fear of nighttime. The vast, endless canopy of the night sky, dotted with cold, harsh pinpoints of light under a bulging white moon: PHASMOPHOBIA Fear of ghosts. Whispers in the darkness and cold breath upon your neck: calla lilies, white sandalwood, snow rose, white amber, and iced wine. PLACOPHOBIA Fear of tombstones. Jagged claws of crumbling stone thrusting through tear-soaked moss. SAMHAINOPHOBIA 2013 Fear of Halloween. Menacing Haitian vetiver, patchouli, and clove with a shock of bourbon geranium, grim oakmoss, and dread-inspiring balsams pierce the innocuous scent of autumn leaves. ++ HALLOWEEN 2013: THE PUMPKIN PATCH There's all manner of shenanigans in this year's pumpkin patch! Pumpkin'ized hybrids of GC BPAL scents abound! ALICE IN THE PUMPKIN PATCH DORIAN IN THE PUMPKIN PATCH MOROCCAN PUMPKIN PATCH SAMHAIN IN THE PUMPKIN PATCH SIN IN THE PUMPKIN PATCH SNAKE OIL IN THE PUMPKIN PATCH The Black Phoenix Trading Post Halloweenies will be live soon, including a gorgeous pair of Halloween-themed tees, creeptastic atmosphere sprays, gloomy candles, and howlingly lovely bath oils. Also in the works… a trip to the Miskatonic Valley and the Castle of the Crystal, and a complete BPAL site overhaul -- yes, the search feature is coming back at long last!

Black Phoenix Trading Post posted a little update last night! CAPAX INFINITI Limited Edition (Lilith’s Birthday!) Scent Dear Lilith, Your giggle makes me smile. Your tears touch my heart. Your hugs give me strength. I love seeing the world through your eyes. Thank you for letting me hold your hand as we walk along your path of life. I love you infinity. Dad A scent warmed by a whole lot of love: honey-snuggled skin musk, sweet vanilla ice cream residue, and lavender oil (Lilith’s favorite!), with a gentle hint of Dorian. A new wall plaque! -- ALCHEMICAL SKULL WALL PLAQUE This alchemical skull wall plaque was created by wonderfully talented Michael Locascio. It is based on one of his original designs, which he modified so that it could hold and added two 5ml bottle holders just for Black Phoenix! These miniplaques are 5 3/4 inches tall and 4 ½ wide. Each plaque was cast in high quality resin and is hand-painted by the artist! And two new general catalogue soy candles! Crafted, as always, by Sara Robey - ABSINTHE CANDLE Fall under the spell of our Green Fairy! An intoxicating blend containing wormwood essence, light mints, cardamom, anise, hyssop, and the barest hint of lemon. PERVERSION CANDLE Smoky rum and black tobacco with a whisper of steamy leather with a splash of crystalline chardonnay, layered over a sensual, sweet, and deceptively magnetic base of tonka. Next stop, Friday the 13th...

On September 21st, Century Guild is hosting a closing party for Gail Potocki’s phenomenal Fragmented Alice series, and Black Phoenix will be there debuting our new collaboration with the artist! We'll also have an event exclusive for the evening: Time’s Infliction of Eternity, a sanguine blend of Dragon’s Blood sedum and black tea. Time’s Infliction of Eternity will ONLY be sold on the evening of the event! The Fragmented Alice scents that will be debuting are: WORMWOOD FIELD Wormwood accord, pink lime, yuzu, thyme flower, hinoki, cedar wood, and green musk. HATTA Copaiba balsam, battered brown leather, and Ceylon cinnamon. NEVAR Black plum and opium poppy with violet leaf and petal, white musk, indigo incense smoke, olibanum, vetiver, and cacao. And the rest of the upcoming Fragmented Alice scents will be on display for you to experience! Wormwood Field, Hatta, and Nevar are limited to 250 bottles each, and when they’re gone… they’re gone. They will be sold the night of the event, and the remainder will be sold through Century Guild's gift shop and web site. Join us on the 21st! Gail Potocki’s Fragmented Alice: Closing Night September 21, 2013 7-10pm CENTURY GUILD 6150 Washington Blvd Culver City, CA 90232 1.800.610.2368 http://centuryguild.net/

Happy birthday to our beloved little angel! Five already!? Where does the time go? ++ LILITH'S HAPPY BIRTHDAY UPDATE! BLUE LOLLIPOPS Preschool graduation celebration! Blueberry-swirled blue lollipops! BUTTERFLIES, FLOWERS, AND JEWELS ATTENDING Take the Fair Face of Woman, and Gently Suspending, With Butterflies, Flowers, and Jewels Attending, Thus Your Fairy is Made of Most Beautiful Things Inspired by the moment in time frozen in this photo - my fairy child, laughing and playing amongst gargantuan flowers. An ethereal, iridescent, twilit scent, sparkling with mystery and innocent joy: white patchouli with provence rose, delicate freesia, pink tuberose, jasmine sambac, orange blossom, butterfly musk, vanilla orchid, and delicate spices. THE FUTURE BALL One day, Lilith digs up one of my old crystal balls and asks me what it does. I tell her that some people read the future in crystal balls, so she asks me to tell her what’s going to happen tomorrow. “I see a little girl waking up and asking for spaghetti for breakfast.” “I see a yellow building and a yellow toy bus.” “I see a big brown dog. The dog is trying to steal a little girl’s dinner.” “I see a little girl surrounded by stuffed animals. Her mother is trying to get her to go to sleep, but the little girl keeps asking for more stories.” This went on every day for weeks. She’d pull out the ball, and ask (demand) that I tell her what was going to happen to her tomorrow. Fun stuff, motherhood! Crystalline white musk, Somalian olibanum, smoky benzoin, Damascus rose, dark myrrh, sacred sandalwood, life everlasting, rock rose, and gummy bear fingerprint residue. LILITH’S BUBBLEGUM AND ROSES This summer, Lilith spent Tuesdays and Thursdays with us here at the Lab. One day, she decides that she wants to make a perfume for herself that all her friends can wear, too. We talk for a little while, and I let her smell some components before she finally decides that she wants her fragrance to smell like bubblegum and roses. Little lady, your wish is my command. Lilith’s creation: a spray of pink roses, red rose petals, and pink sticky bubblegum! LILITH’S FEEL BETTER FLOWERS I’ve been trying to teach Lilith a little bit about herbalism, aromatherapy, and plant lore. We talk about all the plants that are growing in the yard, we talk about all the tinctures, simples, and other concoctions that mom makes, and we play a board game that’s all about wildharvesting herbs. Lilith and I were talking about oils one day at work, and she told me that she wanted to make a perfume with all the “feel better flowers”. I told her that I’d put in every flower whose purpose she could remember… … so here’s what she made: + carnations (to make people happy) + lavender (for sleeping and keeping away bedroom monsters) + honey (it’s for smiles and good throats) + ginger (for tummies) + aloe (for too much sun) + blessed thistles (for buronic (sic) plague) + chamomile (for happy families) + chocolate peppermint (because mom grows it just for me) Please remember! – this is a perfume, not a medicine! Please don’t drink, rub on wounds, use as a suppository, or anything else nutty. LITTLE PYTHIA Ever since toddler’dom, Lilith has had a thing for tarot cards. What kid wouldn’t? They’re big, they’re colorful, and each of them has a story to tell. She has her own decks now (Rider Waite and Thoth), but she still steals mine all the time. This pic was accidental, and, to me, hilarious. She was playing with her Thoth deck when out of nowhere, she grabbed these cards and smooshed them on her cheeks. I’m not sure why she did it, but I’m hella glad I had a camera handy! Channeling Uncle Al, perhaps? An incense for a budding baby magus: vanilla frankincense and rose champaca with a little bit of red licorice. TARANTULA FASCINATOR This summer, Lilith got to play with a ton of bugs, reptiles, and other wigglies during a special event at her preschool. She made a new friend that day – Ursula the Tarantula. “Lilith, what would a tarantula smell like?” “Maybe fuzzy chocolate? With stripes?” Done and done: fuzzy cacao-drenched hazelnut with hay absolute, black pepper, and nutmeg, laced with stripes of wild plum and white sandalwood. - - - Lil's birthday scents and the Garden of Proserpine will be live til November! Teddy's scent, dedicated to Lilith, will be debuting at Black Phoenix Trading Post soon!

These Skeksis are debuting at DragonCon! skekZok the Ritual-Master An incense of deception: frankincense, opoponax, hyssop, champaca, and opium poppy accord. skekUng the Garthim-Master Brute force and destruction: vetiver, smoke, steel, and dragon's blood resin. skekTek the Scientist Metal and stone beams of dark light: hyssop, black currant, black viola, passionflower, and myrrh. skekNa the Slave-Master The essence of vile gluttony: an abundance of spices, sweet cakes, thick creams, and opulent liqueurs mixed with the scent of whip leather and rusted padlocks.

Halloween is almost upon us, the air is alight with Black Butterflies, the fruits of forgetfulness are ripening in Persephone's Garden, and a whiff of pungent incense heralds the coming of autumn -- Illustration by Tanya Bjork! The tee is available at Black Phoenix Trading Post! Sister of the first-born light, Type of sorrowing gentleness! Quivering mists in silv'ry dress Float around thy features bright; When thy gentle foot is heard, From the day-closed caverns then Wake the mournful ghosts of men, I, too, wake, and each night-bird. O'er a field of boundless span Looks thy gaze both far and wide. Raise me upwards to thy side! Grant this to a raving man! And to heights of rapture raised, Let the knight so crafty peep At his maiden while asleep, Through her lattice-window glazed. Soon the bliss of this sweet view, Pangs by distance caused allays; And I gather all thy rays, And my look I sharpen too. Round her unveil'd limbs I see Brighter still become the glow, And she draws me down below, As Endymion once drew thee. Soft, deep, and luminous: Lady of the Night orchid, benzoin, opopponax, currant, black chypre, white gardenia, ambergris, damp, wooded mosses, and black lily. ++ SINGLE NOTES OLIBANUM Representative of the Path of Shin, connecting Hod (Splendour) with Malkuth (Kingdom), and is one of the primary ingredients in Abramelin incense and oil. In some traditions, olibanum is also a perfume of Tiphareth (Beauty), and is integral in assisting in helping one connect with their higher self. Our olibanum represents purification by fire, and possesses all the generous, expansive, radiant qualities of Sol. ++ THE GARDEN OF PROSERPINE An ode to pale-limbed Persephone, inspired by Algernon Swinburne with artwork by Dante Gabriel Rossetti. ...'tis thine in earth's profundities to dwell, fast by the wide and dismal gates of hell. I AM TIRED OF TEARS AND LAUGHTER I am tired of tears and laughter, And men that laugh and weep Of what may come hereafter For men that sow to reap: I am weary of days and hours, Blown buds of barren flowers, Desires and dreams and powers And everything but sleep. White lavender, oudh, and Siamese benzoin. SHE CRUSHES FOR DEAD MEN DEADLY WINE No growth of moor or coppice, No heather-flower or vine, But bloomless buds of poppies, Green grapes of Proserpine, Pale beds of blowing rushes Where no leaf blooms or blushes, Save this whereout she crushes For dead men deadly wine. Poppy wine, chthonic incense, Balm of Gilead, and pomegranate. PALE, WITHOUT NAME OR NUMBER Pale, without name or number, In fruitless fields of corn, They bow themselves and slumber All night till light is born; And like a soul belated, In hell and heaven unmated, By cloud and mist abated Comes out of darkness morn. Greek musk, violet leaf, carrot seed, and ho wood. HE TOO WITH DEATH SHALL DWELL Though one were strong as seven, He too with death shall dwell, Nor wake with wings in heaven, Nor weep for pains in hell; Though one were fair as roses, His beauty clouds and closes; And well though love reposes, In the end it is not well. Somalian myrrh, purple roses, orris root concrete, French cypress, and pomegranate juice. CROWNED WITH CALM LEAVES SHE STANDS Pale, beyond porch and portal, Crowned with calm leaves she stands Who gathers all things mortal With cold immortal hands; Her languid lips are sweeter Than love's who fears to greet her To men that mix and meet her From many times and lands. A diadem of narcissus blossoms and pale daffodils. DEAD DREAMS OF DAYS FORSAKEN There go the loves that wither, The old loves with wearier wings; And all dead years draw thither, And all disastrous things; Dead dreams of days forsaken, Blind buds that snows have shaken, Wild leaves that winds have taken, Red strays of ruined springs. 15-year aged patchouli, Egyptian cumin, white frankincense, labdanum, and bitter almond. TO-DAY WILL DIE TO-MORROW We are not sure of sorrow, And joy was never sure; To-day will die to-morrow; Time stoops to no man's lure; And love, grown faint and fretful, With lips but half regretful Sighs, and with eyes forgetful Weeps that no loves endure. Siamese benzoin, white lilac, tuberose, aniseseed, and white carnation. HOPE AND FEAR SET FREE From too much love of living, From hope and fear set free, We thank with brief thanksgiving Whatever gods may be That no life lives for ever; That dead men rise up never; That even the weariest river Winds somewhere safe to sea. Bourbon vanilla and 10-year aged frankincense. THE SLEEP ETERNAL Then star nor sun shall waken, Nor any change of light: Nor sound of waters shaken, Nor any sound or sight: Nor wintry leaves nor vernal, Nor days nor things diurnal; Only the sleep eternal In an eternal night. Opium tar, asphodel, and lavender, with tuberose, grave moss, frankincense, and mandrake root. Coming soon: Black Phoenix Trading Post's fruits from Garden of Proserpine, a hat tip to Stoker and Shelley, the return of Carnaval Diabolique, a gritty, modern interpretation of the Alice mythos, and, of course, the Halloweenies.