Jenjin
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Everything posted by Jenjin
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Snake Oil-soaked carnation petals, spiked with a dash of clove and allspice.
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Putrefaction, the veil of decay. A yellowing shroud of raw-edged Muga silk, banana-spotted with chunks of fermented fig and exuding rich, earthy puffs of mushroom dust.
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A flirty strawberry-tinged rose lipstick.
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Ribbons of thick curd cooling in a crust flecked with crystallized purple buds.
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Billows of lavender-tinged whipped cream luxuriating on a silky bed of coconut custard.
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Gleaming scales of leathery dragon’s blood resin with a splash of acid, a crack of ozone, and a hint of smoke.
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Pink carnation, clove bud, pink peonies, Tahitian vanilla, sweet amber, and opium poppy accord.
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Sloppily sexy: sweetly spiced pumpkin juice with vanilla cream and wildflower honey, smeared with the vital throb of husky clove, swollen red cherries, but darkened with the vampiric sensuality of vetiver, soporific poppy and blood red wine, and a skin-light pulse of feral musk.
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Toasted almond cream, white musk, and hazelnut sandalwood.
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Golden amber, frankincense, white ginger, and oudh. When, with flame all around him aspirant, Stood flushed, as a harp-player stands, The implacable beautiful tyrant, Rose-crowned, having death in his hands; And a sound as the sound of loud water Smote far through the flight of the fires, And mixed with the lightning of slaughter A thunder of lyres.
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Dazzlingly feral: deep, shadowy old growth bark and mosses and a drop of carnal pomace brandy.
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Gooey.
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Five ambers fading in descending radiance. Dreaming as the Summers Die Thy home is all around, Sweet summer child of light and air, Like God’s own presence, felt, ne’er found, A Spirit everywhere! – James Staunton Babcock Artist - Caspar David Friedrich 'Woman Before the Setting Sun'
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Crypt chic for captivating cadavers: gleaming bone-white sandalwood encrusted with tomb moss, black champaca, and incense smoke.
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Black plum, wild lily, and tobacco. Seven sorrows the priests give their Virgin; But thy sins, which are seventy times seven, Seven ages would fail thee to purge in, And then they would haunt thee in heaven: Fierce midnights and famishing morrows, And the loves that complete and control All the joys of the flesh, all the sorrows That wear out the soul.
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This year we'll be donating to Athlete Ally, a wonderful org striving to help improve LGBTQI+ inclusivity in sports and athletics programs for all ages. They provide resources and curricula for students, teachers, coaches, and teams. https://www.athleteally.org/ "Fear not, for even judgments which seem written in stone will succumb to the passage of time, softened by persistent exposure to the tireless elements, gradually ceding ground to monuments of the new age." A memorial garland of white sandalwood streaked with lapsang souchong, chilled vanilla, and benzoin.
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Hrnnnnghhhuuurgleh: Dracaena cinnabari, blackened opoponax, labdanum, black oud, champaca resin, 3-year aged patchouli, and cacao.
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Pumpkin-puree baked into a walnut-studded loaf, steaming with cinnamon, nutmeg, and clove.
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A solitary track stretched out upon the world: grey amber and white oud, ti leaf, vanilla ash and white sandalwood. ❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️ Snow: years of anger following hours that float idly down — the blizzard drifts its weight deeper and deeper for three days or sixty years, eh? Then the sun! a clutter of yellow and blue flakes — Hairy looking trees stand out in long alleys over a wild solitude. The man turns and there — his solitary track stretched out upon the world. – William Carlos Williams
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Shrubby and fresh: musky amber and copaiba balsam with neatly-mowed grass, well-trimmed hornbeam, upturned soil, and breezy spring blossoms.
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We don’t judge. Red musk, patchouli, ylang ylang, myrrh, and pumpkin guts.
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The smile widened and the long neck bowed, offering. Dried apples, sour apple mash, and molasses.
