kinneret_rising

I received a tiny sample of The Donkey’s Tail dripped onto a little cloth heart. I liked Gloomily, Gloomily, which smells to me like a drizzly lavender meadow. For me The Donkey’s Tail also evokes a meadow, but it’s full of wildflowers and strange herbs and is somehow exciting and unexpected. Is it the bourbon vanilla that’s so surprising? I would be tempted to get a full bottle of this if it were available.

From the store description: The new discovery of “Table Moving,” by means of an unseen power from the human hand, has only been introduced into England within the last few weeks; but it would be difficult to dingle out any scientific subject which has with such rapidity, taken so extensive a hold of the popular mind. If we travel by railway carriage, steamboat, or omnibus, this is the universal topic of conversation. From the aristocratic saloons of Belgravia to the “Parlours” of Whitechapel – the Green Park to the Cat and Mutton Fields, “table moving” is all the rage. From the Royal Institution, where the secretary pokes his head through a forest of electrical apparatus, to inform the audience that the facts are established, down to the humblest Mechanics’ Institute, all are full of it, and the tables, to quote the words of the old song – “are all a moving, move, move, moving,” – Every evening party must of course have its experiments; accordingly, gentlemen come provided with very elegant chapeaux for the occasion, and many an innocent flirtation occurs consequent on the proper arrangement of the little fingers of some of the fair operators. As “sweet eighteen,” with her blue eyes and golden locks, gracefully links her little finger with Charles’s, in a retired corner, what wonder if the hat should tremble? And Charles, being of course fond of poetry (his very name is a guarantee for that), cannot resist softly breathing into Lucy’s ear, that exquisite line from Waller, on his fair one’s harp – “Touched by that hand – who would not tremble too?” And after a little more conversation of a strictly scientific character, they feel quite satisfied with the success of the experiment. Mamma, who has been watching the progress of the magnetic influence at a distance, “has no patience with such nonsense, and wonders young men and young women cannot find something better to do.” She forgets that there was a magnetic influence at work about twenty years since, and what little trifles served as conductors then. – Table Moving, its causes and phenomena: with directions how to experiment *** I was charmed by the story that came with this scent, of romance blooming in the presence of supposedly scientific spiritualist experiments. I tried the oil on a testing strip first, and wet, I smelled cool, airy white florals and green apple with a bit of honey. After leaving the strip to dry overnight, I found it eight hours later still going strong, but with the orange blossom forward. On a skin test, for me the orange blossom came forward immediately. This scent has significant throw, and I am smelling it strongly even when my hand is a good 2 feet away from my nose. It’s surprisingly intense and I like it a lot, maybe enough to look for more than this decant.

Both wet and dry, to me this primarily smells like camphor, which is used in incense to clear impurities from a space. I do pick up some green notes, but the astringent, woody notes overwhelm them. It’s too medicinal for me to use as a perfume, but I could definitely turn it into a spray and use it to freshen the energy of my house. Quite bracing!

On Imagination was paired with this poem by Phyllis Wheatley to celebrate Juneteenth: Thy various works, imperial queen, we see, How bright their forms! how deck’d with pomp by thee! Thy wond’rous acts in beauteous order stand, And all attest how potent is thine hand. From Helicon’s refulgent heights attend, Ye sacred choir, and my attempts befriend: To tell her glories with a faithful tongue, Ye blooming graces, triumph in my song. Now here, now there, the roving Fancy flies, Till some lov’d object strikes her wand’ring eyes, Whose silken fetters all the senses bind, And soft captivity involves the mind. Imagination! who can sing thy force? Or who describe the swiftness of thy course? Soaring through air to find the bright abode, Th’ empyreal palace of the thund’ring God, We on thy pinions can surpass the wind, And leave the rolling universe behind: From star to star the mental optics rove, Measure the skies, and range the realms above. There in one view we grasp the mighty whole, Or with new worlds amaze th’ unbounded soul. Though Winter frowns to Fancy’s raptur’d eyes The fields may flourish, and gay scenes arise; The frozen deeps may break their iron bands, And bid their waters murmur o’er the sands. Fair Flora may resume her fragrant reign, And with her flow’ry riches deck the plain; Sylvanus may diffuse his honours round, And all the forest may with leaves be crown’d: Show’rs may descend, and dews their gems disclose, And nectar sparkle on the blooming rose. Such is thy pow’r, nor are thine orders vain, O thou the leader of the mental train: In full perfection all thy works are wrought, And thine the sceptre o’er the realms of thought. Before thy throne the subject-passions bow, Of subject-passions sov’reign ruler thou; At thy command joy rushes on the heart, And through the glowing veins the spirits dart. Fancy might now her silken pinions try To rise from earth, and sweep th’ expanse on high: From Tithon’s bed now might Aurora rise, Her cheeks all glowing with celestial dies, While a pure stream of light o’erflows the skies. The monarch of the day I might behold, And all the mountains tipt with radiant gold, But I reluctant leave the pleasing views, Which Fancy dresses to delight the Muse; Winter austere forbids me to aspire, And northern tempests damp the rising fire; They chill the tides of Fancy’s flowing sea, Cease then, my song, cease the unequal lay. – Phillis Wheatley This was my first purchase from BPAL and I fell in love! I have a hard time picking out the individual notes — they blend so well — but for me it is an airy, dynamic scent. I often wear it for work because it feels both clarifying and creative; it puts me in a focused but expansive frame of mind. On Imagination is light enough to be worn in hot weather, but it also feels substantive and complex. Although it has sweet notes, the airiness is what I notice first, like the olfactory equivalent of standing under a big sky. I put this on when I need a little inspiration.