doomsday_disco

Red musk, red pepper, and honeycomb.

Inevitable surrender. Opening with a heady blend of blood orange and black cherry, the heart of this perfume pulsates with narcotic jasmine, sinuous tuberose, blood amber, vanilla silk, and deep red labdanum. In the rapture of my enormous humiliation I live in your warm life, and you shall die — die, sweetly die — into mine. I cannot help it; as I draw near to you, you, in your turn, will draw near to others, and learn the rapture of that cruelty, which yet is love; so, for a while, seek to know no more of me and mine, but trust me with all your loving spirit.” And when she had spoken such a rhapsody, she would press me more closely in her trembling embrace, and her lips in soft kisses gently glow upon my cheek.

Akebia, guava pulp, pink sandalwood, melon, green bergamot, Florentine iris, and sandalwood.

A sturdy but soft lavender cotton twill, lightly flour- and sugar-dusted, with deep pockets full of kitchen mysteries.

A slightly more sinister take on our usual Beaver Moon offerings: black cherry and blackberry cheesecake with a smear of chocolate brandy sauce.

With apologies to my ancestors. Ube halaya and ube ice cream chonked with mango jelly, flan, boiled taro, evaporated milk, sweetened kidney beans, dried coconut, kaong, gulaman, tapioca pearls, and a copious shake of pumpkin spice.

Hush is a scent to cool the nerves and help inspire serenity in dark times: lemon myrtle, ylang ylang, tangerine, sandalwood, and lavender.

Classic 90’s goth glamour: oman frankincense, champaca orchid, black narcissus, opoponax, honeyed black amber, wild plum, tuberose, 13-year aged patchouli root, blood musk, and smoky bourbon vanilla husk.

Blackened lavender thickened with Cretian labdanum, orris absolute, tonka bean, and Lapsang Souchong. Eugène Carrière

Gurjum balsam, olibanum, blush sandalwood, linden blossom, mallow, mauve labdanum, tonka absolute, woodsy musk, purple dates, and dusty dragon’s blood resin. Antoine-Louis Barye

A glimmer of hope: white musk glittering with meyer lemon, mimosa, freesia, cashmere wood, and iris petals. Wilhelm Kotarbinski

Seid umschlungen, Millionen! Diesen Kuß der ganzen Welt! Molten steel, grease, balsam, oiled leather, gunpowder, and blood. Fritz Gareis

Vanilla cream engulfed in dark, lush mosses, balsamic woods, and deep green incense tar. Karl Wilhelm Diefenbach

You sure did! Here’s your participation award: a bright, sweet lemon candy lightly dusted with sugar to soothe the sting of rejection.

Tobacco Absolute and Cherry Chypre.

Red vegetal musk, tangerine rind, King mandarin, fossilized amber, and neroli.

Night-Blooming Jasmine and Wisteria Incense.

A twinkling rosy rosé garnished with a curly sliver of clove-studded orange peel.

Vanillekipferl plunked in a pile of pine needles.

About two miles from the village of Canton, Me., is a cosey, old-fashioned farm-house which is located directly opposite a graveyard, with no other house in sight. From the window of this little house nothing can be seen except the graveyard with its gleaming stones, and the hills and mountains round about. The family that has been occupying the house moved out not long ago, declaring that they could not stand it any longer, that they were wellnight distracted by the demonstrations. When they told their story a former resident, who now lives in Hartford, announced that he had known for years that the place was haunted. He had not told any one for fear of the ridicule of his neighbors. The demonstrations were not only in the house, but in the barn and around the premises. Regularly every night at 12 o’clock a team of horses rushes from the direction of the village, rumbles over the little bridge at a slashing gait, and then disappears. It never reaches the house. Instead, ghostly voices address the members of the family who have the temerity to live there, the voices coming from all parts of the house, but never so clearly that they can be located. On one memorable night a member of the family went to the barn just at dusk without a lantern. A figure stood at the corner of the building, and he ran to learn what the straggler wanted about the place. The figure silently and mysteriously melted into the shadows and was gone. The Buffalo News, April 20, 1904 A spectral cacophony of shimmering, translucent dun sandalwood, grey amber, and wraith-chilled chestnut galloping through the mist-cloaked shadows of time, a clattering of clove and black pepper, and a crack of phantom leather.

This Spiritualism is the nepenthe which the ancient philosophers sought, to prolong life for ever; you cast off your bodies like an old garment. The pathway of this new science is as clear to the spirit as the names of the constellations are to the astronomer. In the great realm of the spirit there is no room for death to abide ; he has gone out with the ignorance, and blindness, and prejudice of the past, and life, only life, remains as your inheritance. Mrs. Tappan then paused. After a moment’s silence she delivered the following inspirational poem:— O beautiful white mother Death, Thou silent and shadowy soul, Thou mystical, magical soul, How soothing and cooling thy breath! Ere the morning stars sang in their spheres, Thou didst dwell in the spirit of things, Brooding there with thy wonderful wings, Incubating the germs of the years. Coeval with Time and with Space, Thy sisters are Silence and Sleep ; Three sisters—Death, Silence, and Sleep, How strange and how still is thy face! In the marriage of matter to soul,” Thou wert wedded to young fiery Time, The now weary and hoary-haired Time, With him thou hast shared earth’s control. O beautiful spirit of Death, Thy brothers are Winter and Night; Stern Winter and shadowy Night, They bear thy still image and breath. Summer buds fall asleep in thy arms, ’Neath the fleecy and soft-footed snow, The silent, pure, beautiful snow; And the earth their new life-being warms. All the world is endowed with thy breath, Summer splendours and purple of wine Flow out of this magic of thine, O beautiful angel of Death What wonders in silence we see The lily grows pale in thy sight; The rose thro’ the long summer night Sighs its life out in fragrance to thee. O beautiful angel of Death, The beloved are thine, all are thine ! They have drunk the nepenthe divine, They have felt the full flow of thy breath. Out into thy realm they are gone, Like the incense that greeteth the morn, On the wings of thy might they’re up-borne, As bright birds to thy Paradise flown. They are folded and safe in thy sight, Thro’ thy portals they pass from earth’s prison; From the cold clod of clay they have risen, To dwell in thy temple of light. O beautiful Angel of Life, Germs feel thee and burst into bloom, Souls see thee and rise from the tomb, With beauty and loveliness rife. On earth thou art named cold Death, Dim, dark, dismal, dire, dreadful Death, In heaven thou art “Angel of Life.” We are one with thy spirit, O Death ; We spring to thy arms unafraid, One with thee are our glad spirits made. We are born when we drink thy cold breath,— Oh, Angel of Life, lovely Death. The concluding hymn was then sung, after which Mrs. Tappan uttered the following benediction—“ May the peace of the loving spirit of the Heavenly Father and His angels abide with you, and the life that knows no death bear you on to the immortal world.” The Spiritualist, Oct. 15, 1873 Poem by Cora L.V. Richmond The lily grows pale in thy sight; the rose, through the long summer night, sighs its life out in fragrance to thee.

Absinthe and Lavender Tar.

Brown Sugar and Oak.

Jasmine Absolute and Champaca Petals.

Foweles in þe frith þe fisses in þe flod And I mon waxe wod sulch sorw I walke with for beste of bon and blod – 13th century song, anonymous Birds in the wood and in the space between woods, fishes in the flowing waters, I feel I must go mad from mourning because I journey with such sorrow for the beasts of bone and blood. Gnarled boughs of white oak, sweet chestnut, hazel, and holly, blood-red rowan berries, spikes of blackthorn, a scattering of melancholy lilac petals, cade, and crushed lily of the valley.