doomsday_disco
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Everything posted by doomsday_disco
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Bodegón Con Cesto de Frutas, Melocotones, Granadas Y Bernegal
doomsday_disco posted a topic in Limited Editions
Peaches, pomegranates, black figs, baked red clay, and cacao spiced with chili peppers and sweetened with honey. Juan de Zurbarán -
An oil of courage, daring, and reckless, unbridled joy. Contains: dragon’s blood absolute, frankincense, Tahitian vanilla absolute, blood orange, master root, apricot fruit compound, ginger root, heliotropin natural isolate, and fossilized amber.
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Treat this as more of an impression than a review since I'm reviewing the scent and not the intent. The Burning Light is mostly about the orange, apricot, and ginger on me, backed by the incense. The ginger with the other notes is making this veer medicinal on me, sadly. I'm going to stick with Holiday Survival Juice for a joyful, uplifting TAL blend.
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I received a tester of this in a decant order. This is mostly about the leather on me, and it's a strong black leather. I also get some rubberiness from it, which I agree is probably from the leather combining with the ink. The dusty pages are present, but I'm not getting any beeswax or any sweetness from this whatsoever. And that strong leather really could have used some beeswax goodness along with it! Maybe it's just my skin running away with the leather? I'm glad that I was able to try it, but I wouldn't reach for this over sweet book scents like Jólabókaflóð or Picture Books in Winter.
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I'm also getting An Evening With the Spirits vibe from this one. It has the same sort of eerie coolness as some of those scents. I decided to try it because I wanted to try at least one scent from The Yellow Wallpaper collection, and this one seemed like it would be the most accessible (plus, y'know, it contains lavender ). This is indeed accessible, with the plaster dust being pretty tame and kind of lending a powdery make-up or classic perfume vibe in the background. However, the standout notes to me are the iris (which is somehow not as sharp and screechy as usual) and the musky ambergris. I've tried this a few times now, and the lavender and vanilla husk aren't really distinct on me, and I'm not getting anything rose-y from this, either. While this isn't something I need a bottle of, I'm glad the iris wasn't extremely rude to me (despite being a main player), and that this wasn't heavy on the plaster. If you like iris and are looking for a scent with An Evening With the Spirits sort of feel, though, this might be up your alley.
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But there is something else about that paper—the smell! I noticed it the moment we came into the room, but with so much air and sun it was not bad. Now we have had a week of fog and rain, and whether the windows are open or not, the smell is here. It creeps all over the house. I find it hovering in the dining-room, skulking in the parlor, hiding in the hall, lying in wait for me on the stairs. It gets into my hair. Even when I go to ride, if I turn my head suddenly and surprise it—there is that smell! Such a peculiar odor, too! I have spent hours in trying to analyze it, to find what it smelled like. It is not bad—at first, and very gentle, but quite the subtlest, most enduring odor I ever met. In this damp weather it is awful. I wake up in the night and find it hanging over me. It used to disturb me at first. I thought seriously of burning the house—to reach the smell. But now I am used to it. The only thing I can think of that it is like is the color of the paper! A yellow smell. Scorched wood and oversteeped chamomile petals pressed wetly into beeswax, brittle fossilized amber, a whisper of honeyed hay and saffron, and the sweet decay of overripe butter figs.
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The whistle cries. Cheek pressed to the cool glass, breath fogging faintly as orchards and riverbanks blur past in watercolor hues. The air fills with rose creme and warm pastries from the dining car. Night falls. The train glides along the darkened coast, and lights shimmer in the distance like earthbound stars. Burnt sugar amber, polished French oakwood, cacao fleur, blushing peony, and cashmere musk.
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A 2023 Halloween concoction which maybe should’ve been a Yule all along! Wooly and witchy, fuzzy and scuzzy, long green fingers tipped with ruby-red nails: raw wool, sweet oakmoss, and cranberry brandy.
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A whiff of seasonal dread, candied and cursed; the perfect gourmand perfume for holiday melancholics. A dense, boozy thud of brandied plum, candied citrus peel, dried cherries, sherry, blackened clove and nutmeg, ambered dust, moth-eaten burgundy velvet curtains, and a tiny plume of smoke from recently-spent matchsticks.
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*clinks bottles* *clinks shovels* How about one for the road? Fizzy pop and a syrupy slick of motor oil splashed across disintegrating tan leather seats.
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An aromatic panel of gingerbread conveniently drilled at hip-height, smutted up with patchouli and boozy brown musk.
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Then she summoned a huntsman and said to him, “Take Snow-White out into the woods. I never want to see her again. Kill her, and as proof that she is dead bring her lungs and her liver back to me.” The huntsman obeyed and took Snow-White into the woods. He took out his hunting knife and was about to stab it into her innocent heart when she began to cry, saying, “Oh, dear huntsman, let me live. I will run into the wild woods and never come back.” Because she was so beautiful the huntsman took pity on her, and he said, “Run away, you poor child.” Mercy interrupting violence: well-worn leather shadowed by pine boughs, moss-slick bark, bloodroot and steel, and a tremble of wild apple. (Review thread creator note: This is a new Yule scent. If you're looking to review the 2018 release of The Huntsman, which was a Tarot scent, please click here.)
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A BPAL favorite since 2005, affectionately nicknamed ‘The Devil’s Bake Sale.’ (Review thread creator note: If you're reviewing the 2018 Sugar Cookie Hair Gloss, please use the thread linked here. That hair gloss features a different sugar cookie scent!)
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Honeyed Peach Incense.
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According to some authors, myrrh is the produce of a tree that grows in the same forests as the incense-tree, though most say that they grow in different places: but the fact is that myrrh grows in many parts of Arabia, as will be seen when we come to speak of the several varieties of it. A sort that is highly esteemed is brought from the islands also, and the Sabæi even cross the sea to procure it in the country of the Troglodytæ. It is grown also by being transplanted, and when thus cultivated is greatly preferred to that which is grown in the forests. The plant is greatly improved by raking and baring the roots; indeed, the cooler the roots are kept, the better it is. – Pliny the Elder Kataf myrrh, smoked sandalwood, and vanilla bean.
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This scent 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, 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. 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. 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.
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In former times, when they had fewer opportunities of selling it, they used to gather the frankincense only once a year; but at the present day, as there is a much greater demand for it, there is a second crop as well. The first, and what we may call the natural, vintage, takes place about the rising of the Dog-star, a period when the heat is most intense; on which occasion they cut the tree where the bark appears to be the fullest of juice, and extremely thin, from being distended to the greatest extent. The incision thus made is gradually extended, but nothing is removed; the consequence of which is, that an unctuous foam oozes forth, which gradually coagulates and thickens. When the nature of the locality requires it, this juice is received upon mats of palm-leaves, though in some places the space around the tree is made hard by being well rammed down for the purpose. The frankincense that is gathered after the former method, is in the purest state, though that which falls on the ground is the heaviest in weight: that which adheres to the tree is pared off with an iron instrument, which accounts for its being found mingled with pieces of bark. – Pliny the Elder Frankincense, terebinth, and Italian bergamot.
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A frost-edged nave of stone, where stained glass glimmers with the light from prayer-lofted votives. Spirals of incense drift through the chill winter air, mingling with the solemn drip of beeswax from altar candles. Cedar pews gleam under centuries of prayer, and the air hums with hushed devotion.
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Salty and smushed.
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Take three pintes of Beere, put fiue yolkes of Egges to it, straine them together, and set it in a pewter pot to the fyre, and put to it halfe a pound of Sugar, one penniworth of Nutmegs beaten, one penniworth of Cloues beaten, and a halfepenniworth of Ginger beaten, and when it is all in, take another pewter pot and brewe them together, and set it to the fire againe, and when it is readie to boyle, take it from the fire, and put a dish of sweet butter into it, and brewe them together out of one pot into an other. – The Good Huswifes Handmaide for the Kitchin, 1594
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Rum-soaked butter cookies, crusted with sugar, soaked in almond and garnished with orange rind.
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Red Amber and Pomegranate.
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Pomegranate Popcorn.
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Pomegranate Molasses.
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Pomegranate and Smoked Cacao.