doomsday_disco
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Everything posted by doomsday_disco
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This is the scent of pure graveyard dust, spattered with grave loam and dusted lightly with tombstone moss.
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Sweet-tempered and kind, this emotionally generous dragon has a hoard made not of gold, but of handwritten letters, warm socks, library check out cards, and old mixtapes. Famed throughout the realms for offering a listening ear and a warm hug in lieu of unsolicited advice, it roosts in sun-warmed meadows, secondhand bookstores, and antique shops, and its scales glow softly in shades of sun tea, wildflower honey, and sweet apricot.
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Flapjacks drowning in an intoxicating blend containing wormwood essence, light mints, cardamom, anise, hyssop, and the barest hint of lemon.
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Dead Leaves, Salt and Sea.
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The perfect accompaniment for our Halloween fragrances. A lovely autumnal layering scent.
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The scent of jubilant freedom, endurance, and justice: juniper berry, oakmoss, ti leaf, terebinth, lemon peel, neroli, white amber, black cherry, pink pepper, and orange brandy. John A. Woodside
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Volatile, earthy, and defiant: dusty leather, tobacco leaf, clove bud, green patchouli, and black pepper. Honoré Daumier
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Shattered amber tears, smoked saffron, burnt sugar, myrrh, brown leather, peru balsam, vetiver, and ash. Joseph Mallord William Turner
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A bronze chypre with molten amber, gleaming myrrh, and a hint of laurel leaf. Thomas Crawford
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Rarely glimpsed except in reflections or the flicker of fading film, the Bastard-Amber Dragon drifts through time like a fever dream of Old Hollywood. Born of illusion and artifice, it casts everything in its path in a honeyed glow. Its scales shimmer like tawny celluloid: aldehyde klieg lights illuminate golden resins, husky with toasted brown sugar.
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A soothing, uplifting purification oil used in uncrossing and jinx removal and to cleanse ritual spaces. Contains: rosemary, orris butter, frankincense, and rue.
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You would measure time the measureless and the immeasurable. You would adjust your conduct and even direct the course of your spirit according to hours and seasons. Of time you would make a stream upon whose bank you would sit and watch its flowing. Yet the timeless in you is aware of life’s timelessness, And knows that yesterday is but today’s memory and tomorrow is today’s dream. And that that which sings and contemplates in you is still dwelling within the bounds of that first moment which scattered the stars into space. Who among you does not feel that his power to love is boundless? And yet who does not feel that very love, though boundless, encompassed within the centre of his being, and moving not from love thought to love thought, nor from love deeds to other love deeds? And is not time even as love is, undivided and paceless? But if in your thought you must measure time into seasons, let each season encircle all the other seasons, And let today embrace the past with remembrance and the future with longing. Let each season encircle all the other seasons: ambergris accord, frankincense smoke, orris root, angelica, bergamot, and white tea.
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Of the good in you I can speak, but not of the evil. For what is evil but good tortured by its own hunger and thirst? Verily when good is hungry it seeks food even in dark caves, and when it thirsts it drinks even of dead waters. You are good when you are one with yourself. Yet when you are not one with yourself you are not evil. For a divided house is not a den of thieves; it is only a divided house. And a ship without rudder may wander aimlessly among perilous isles yet sink not to the bottom. You are good when you strive to give of yourself. Yet you are not evil when you seek gain for yourself. For when you strive for gain you are but a root that clings to the earth and sucks at her breast. Surely the fruit cannot say to the root, “Be like me, ripe and full and ever giving of your abundance.” For to the fruit giving is a need, as receiving is a need to the root. You are good when you are fully awake in your speech, Yet you are not evil when you sleep while your tongue staggers without purpose. And even stumbling speech may strengthen a weak tongue. You are good when you walk to your goal firmly and with bold steps. Yet you are not evil when you go thither limping. Even those who limp go not backward. But you who are strong and swift, see that you do not limp before the lame, deeming it kindness. You are good in countless ways, and you are not evil when you are not good, You are only loitering and sluggard. Pity that the stags cannot teach swiftness to the turtles. In your longing for your giant self lies your goodness: and that longing is in all of you. But in some of you that longing is a torrent rushing with might to the sea, carrying the secrets of the hillsides and the songs of the forest. And in others it is a flat stream that loses itself in angles and bends and lingers before it reaches the shore. But let not him who longs much say to him who longs little, “Wherefore are you slow and halting?” For the truly good ask not the naked, “Where is your garment?” nor the houseless, “What has befallen your house?” What has befallen your house? Myrrh resin, beeswax, black fig, cypress smoke, and vetiver.
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A Vixen experiment with rose and champaca.
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While working on the Lupers a few years back, I accidentally made a perfume that smells exactly like Hawaiian Punch.
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Pomegranate and Labdanum.
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Pomegranate and Animalic Musk.
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Patchouli and Smoked Vanilla.
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Clove and Sweet Incense.
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Black Sandalwood and Leather.
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Amber-bedewed skin musk, golden honey, vanilla cream, and a trickle of sugared lemon. Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec
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Nothing will squash our interest in creating new pumpkin scents!
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Wish we had eight arms – then we could get more sleeves! Tattoo ink afuzz with caramelized pumpkin pulp, bourbon, cranberry juice, sweet patchouli, and red peppercorns.
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Pumpkin spiced and buttery.
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A fragrance of celestial revelry: the galaxy whirling in ecstatic fragments of light, joy caught mid-orbit. An effervescent constellation of scent: dazzling points of neroli and sugared lemon flashing like meteors. Electric ozone and crystalline lavender swirl in radiant arcs, luminous as a comet’s tail, with golden heliotrope and night-blooming jasmine stardust. Henri-Edmond Cross