doomsday_disco
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Everything posted by doomsday_disco
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White musk, cherry blossoms, plum blossoms, lilac petals, and white tea.
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Caramel cream, golden oud, sweet amber, praline milk, hazelnut, and cacao.
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Beeswax, wildflower honey, copal resin, vanilla bean, balsam, and frankincense.
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Night-blooming jasmine, cherry juice, orris root, rice powder, vanilla silk, white amber, coconut husk, purple labdanum, myrrh, and wild plum.
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Cardamom, bourbon cream, white sandalwood, and incense.
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White tea, golden pear, Himalayan cedar, and eucalyptus blossom.
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Glittering amber, sweet oakmoss, orange peel, golden apple, yellow bergamot, champagne grape, and white melon.
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Asahina Yoshihide in a Tug-of-war with the Little People
doomsday_disco posted a topic in Lupercalia
Bourbon vanilla, caramelized benzoin, blackcurrant, and black dates. -
Red tobacco, crimson musk, sweet red patchouli, nutmeg, vanilla bourbon, rose geranium, and saffron-gilded red amber.
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Prototype of an unreleased scent for a media tie-in. A perfume for shapeshifters, charmers, and agents of chaos and transformations. Green-gilded leather, patchouli leaf, golden bergamot, agarwood, fiery clove, ti leaf, and amber.
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Purple Sage & Pinon.
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Pomegranate and Animalic Musk.
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“Piglet,” said Rabbit, taking out a pencil, and licking the end of it, “you haven’t any pluck.” “It is hard to be brave,” said Piglet, sniffing slightly, “when you’re only a Very Small Animal.” Rabbit, who had begun to write very busily, looked up and said: “It is because you are a very small animal that you will be Useful in the adventure before us.” Piglet was so excited at the idea of being Useful, that he forgot to be frightened any more… Pink clover and wild strawberries, red bean paste, pink vanilla, sweet acorns, apple blossom, caramelized almond, and a shy puff of sugar.
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Slushy white mint, vanilla cream, lemon drops, grapefruit, and yuzu!
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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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Pomegranate and Burning Leaves.
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Not exactly my definition of a happy Christmas, but to each their own. Wild pansies, white honey, and frothy cream.
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Bottled sunshine.
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Fir needle, white chiffon, honey dust, moss velvet, white musk, and baby’s breath. Franz Skarbina
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The Wissahickon is one of my favorite places in the world, and whenever we can, Ted and I lose ourselves in its winding paths. This painting calls to mind one of our favorite trails in autumn, when the leaves have begun to surrender to the earth and sunlight filters through ember, rust, and gold. The air is rich with the breath of living things, the green pulse of growth softened and deepened by the bitter sweetness of decay. Olga Wisinger-Florian
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A scandalous affair between silk-furred conspirators: tails entwined beneath tables, furrrrtive glances stolen and held too long, stolen hours, arched backs, and the scent of unfamiliar catnip rubbed on jeweled collars. An indolent purr of cream-soaked shortbread biscuits, cracked cardamom, pink pepper, smoked vanilla bean, and cocoa powder.
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Sugared pear and wild violets with orris butter, coconut milk, white musk, and vanilla silk. “How romantic you are, Carmilla,” I said. “Whenever you tell me your story, it will be made up chiefly of some one great romance.” She kissed me silently. “I am sure, Carmilla, you have been in love; that there is, at this moment, an affair of the heart going on.” “I have been in love with no one, and never shall,” she whispered, “unless it should be with you.” How beautiful she looked in the moonlight! Shy and strange was the look with which she quickly hid her face in my neck and hair, with tumultuous sighs, that seemed almost to sob, and pressed in mine a hand that trembled. Her soft cheek was glowing against mine. “Darling, darling,” she murmured, “I live in you; and you would die for me, I love you so.”
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I haven’t had much sleep lately, so this is the best I could do for a name. This scent is part of an unreleased comedy/horror animation project, based on an illustrated character concept of a dapper skeleton. White sandalwood, white pepper, orris root, angelica, and chalk.
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Golden hay and sun-warmed straw, soft brown fur musk, ripe banana peel and green fig, steamed rice and almond milk, mimosa blossom, and pale yellow chrysanthemum.
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The ultimate personification of the Lovers, the crowned White Queen and Red King appear as personifications of solar and lunar forces, opposing currents poised before their great meeting. Here the King extends his branch and the Queen hers, and in the symbolic imagery the sun and moon stand beside them in the watery vessel where their union will be enacted, reflecting the ancient alchemical principle that the opposites must enter the prima materia if transformation is to occur. In the illuminated plates of the Rosarium Philosophorum, the crowned King and Queen stand facing one another beneath a descending dove, sovereign and sovereign, fixed and volatile, their bodies poised at the threshold of sacred union. He burns with solar tincture, sulfurous and red, the embodied heat of will and form; she gleams with lunar pallor, mercurial and receptive, the shining mirror that receives and transforms. Their meeting is courtship through coniunctio, the deliberate joining of opposites beneath divine blessing. They are the Lovers stripped to archetype, the sun and the moon brought into perfect equilibrium. The King must surrender his isolated dominion, the Queen her cool separateness, and in their embrace the sealed vessel becomes a womb of transmutation. Above them, the spirit descends; below them, the bath and tomb await. What appears as union is also dissolution, for each must die to solitary sovereignty in order to be reborn as unified essence. Alchemically, their conjunction generates the Stone, the filius philosophorum, the radiant third that arises when polarity is neither denied nor allowed to dominate. From red and white emerges the tincture that perfects, the hermaphroditic child crowned in both suns and moons, embodying the reconciliation of sulfur and mercury within a single body of light. The Lovers here transcend flesh and narrative, becoming emblem and equation, the purest symbolic revelation of the card’s mystery: that true union is the marriage of contraries under spirit, and that from such sacred joining comes incorruptible gold. Crimson musk and white amber twined with solar frankincense and lunar myrrh, warm saffron steeped in cool iris root, gold-threaded honey darkened by silvered benzoin, a marriage of fire and pearl beneath a rain of distant stars.