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Showing results for tags 'Yule 2017'.
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NES GADOL HAYA SHAM But not long after the king sent a certain old man of Antioch, to compel the Jews to depart from the laws of their fathers and of God: And to defile the temple that was in Jerusalem, and to call it the temple of Jupiter Olympius: and that in Gazarim of Jupiter Hospitalis, according as they were that inhabited the place. And very bad was this invasion of evils and grievous to all. For the temple was full of the riot and reveling of the Gentiles: and of men lying with lewd women. And women thrust themselves of their accord into the holy places, and brought in things that were not lawful. The altar also was filled with unlawful things, which were forbidden by the laws. And neither were the sabbaths kept, nor the solemn days of the fathers observed, neither did any man plainly profess himself to be a Jew. But they were led by bitter constraint on the king's birthday to the sacrifices: and when the feast of Bacchus was kept, they wore compelled to go about crowned with ivy in honour of Bacchus. And there went out a decree into the neighboring cities of the Gentiles, by the suggestion of the Ptolemeans, that they also should act in like manner against the Jews, to oblige them to sacrifice: And whosoever would not conform themselves to the ways of the Gentiles, should be put to death: then was misery to be seen. For two women were accused to have circumcised their children: whom, when they had openly led about through the city with the infants hanging at their breasts, they threw down headlong from the walls. And others that had met together in caves that were near, and were keeping the sabbath day privately, being discovered by Philip, were burnt with fire, because they made a conscience to help themselves with their hands, by reason of the religious observance of the day. - The Second Book of the Maccabees, 6:1-11 In order to consolidate his power in Jerusalem and Hellenize the area, the Greek king Antiochus IV Epiphanes outlawed Judaism and ordered the population to worship Zeus and the Hellenic pantheon. As this was anathema to the Jews, they refused, and Antiochus moved to enforce his religious decree by extreme force. Some origin tales say that the dreidel was used at this time as a method by which the Jewish people were able to continue to study the Talmud in secret under the guise of gambling. Now, in addition to being a light gambling game, the dreidel is also a reminder of the strength, devotion, and perseverance of the Jewish people and the mercy of God. One scent in four parts: Nun, the Snake: nuun, nothing. Naḥš, in modern Arabic, means bad luck. Represented by scents of loss and remembrance: opoponax and lemon verbena. Gimel, the Camel: the Ship of the Desert. Represented by scents of abundance, fortitude, and determination: patchouli, heliotrope, pomegranate, and almond. He, the Window: sometimes used to represent the Unutterable Name of God, this is the window in our souls through which God's light touches us. Represented by scents of clarity and piety: frankincense, myrtle, and hyssop. Shin, the Tooth: also stands for Shaddai, one of the names of God. The hand formed into shin acts as a priestly blessing. Represented by scents of strength, generosity, kindness, and benediction: carnation, myrrh, red poppy, and hibiscus. The essences of Nun, Gimel, He, and Shin are blended to become Nes Gadol Haya Sham. Prominent notes for me are the Heliotrope and Almond. This reminds me of an old favorite, Tzadikim Nistarim, and also a few of BPAL's earlier 13 blends. Probably because of the wide range of notes. Maybe even reminiscent of Cleopatra Testing Poisons. Complex and unconventional from a perfume standpoint.
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A lighthearted winter scent: chilly vanilla rose snowballs! Dainty, soft, and certainly unfit for flinging! Pink Snowballs started out Snow White, with a hint of vanilla, and stayed that way for a while. After about two hours, I smelled it and snow white had wandered away, leaving the vanilla left with a single rose and a hint of her perfume. Rather soft, and pretty.
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No additional description provided. Scent description for Bliss is here.] In The Bottle: Bliss and Snow White, in equal measure. Wet On Skin: Same. It's what I imagine it would be like to eat a fluffy snowball, if it was dusted with cocoa mix Dry Down: Yes, this is chocolatey Snow White! I was a little worried this would have a water or ozone note to it, since those go horribly wrong on my skin. But this is just a soft, sweet, snowy Bliss. It's a really nice, gentle daytime scent. Glad I got a bottle!
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Sweet pea and sugar cane. I blind bottled this as soon as I saw the sweet pea and sugar because I'm still suffering from the Great Reflected Vulva Heartbreak of 2014. After painfully doling out a teensy drop from what's left of my decant to compare, I can say that at least to me it's very close. Even though Princess doesn't have the cream note, it still smells soft and creamy to me. This is so sweet and girlish and precious that it should come with a free tiara, and yet it's not overwhelming and cloying. It's absolutely lovely and now I can finally stop pining for the Luper that got away. You're damn right I'm a motherfucking princess and now I smell like one too.
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Orion, the Hunter, is the Lord of the Winter Skies. At his left shoulder sits orange-hot Betelgeuse, and in the heart of his sword, he holds a nebula that swirls with the birth of new stars. Weathered brown leather, wild fig, Macedonian cedar, fire-red tobacco, pepper, white musk, and cardamom. Oh my goodness this one is amazing. I smelled it at willl call and liked it, but I didn't get a chance to try it on before I had to leave...and then I got it for Christmas! Lucky me! I can pick out the fig, cedar, and pepper the most easily when wet, with a hint of the cardamom... and together those smell a) delicious and remind me a bit of nutmeg. It feels somewhat foody, and really just warm and delicious. As it dries, the leather, tobacco, and musk come out a bit more, grounding it and making it much less of a foody experience. I can still smell warm, slightly sweet cedar goodness, though, with a gentle underlay of leather and white musk. I keep applying it to myself, but also to my husband. It's a great blend of like, comforting yummy and also kinda sexy and masculine - but not in a way where it feels specifically cologne-y or like femme people would feel out of place wearing it. I'm wearing it and loving it. It's soooo gooooood.
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Fear of Gaiety Clacking white teeth bared in repugnant, feral upturned leers. Laughter, hideous laughter: bubbling white ginger gurgling through hot red carnations, shreds of orange peel, and cloying globs of honey. In the bottle - Ooh baby. It's sweet-citrus-ginger. I have a good feeling about this. Wet - Yup, that's carnation. Drydown - I want to say that I'm getting something else -- anything else -- but it's alllll carnation. Damn you, skin chemistry. Verdict - Although I like the scent, I didn't need a whole bottle. I might look for an oil burner so I can get that in-the-bottle ginger back in my life.
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If then, man, in every act, leaves the impression, or daguerreotype of his mental being upon the scenes of his life and the subjects of his action, we are by this law furnished with a new clue to the history of our race; and I think it highly probable, that, by the application of this principle, the chasms of history may be supplied, and a glimpse may be obtained of unrecorded ages and nations, whose early history is lost in darkness. The ancient manuscripts, paintings, and other works of art, which still exist – the crucifixes, garments, armor, and other ancient relics, still preserved – are doubtless still instinct with the spirit that produced them, and capable of revealing to psychometric exploration, the living realities with which they were once connected. At present, these relics are barren of significance. Their hidden meaning lies waiting the future explorer, as the hieroglyphics of Egypt awaited the arrival of Champillion to interpret their significance. And why should not the world be filled with the monuments and unwritten records of its past history? It would seem, to the superficial thinker, that man was entirely limited to tradition and written records for his knowledge of the past; but physical science proves, that the world possesses, embodied in enduring monuments, the story of its progressive existence. The geologist finds, in the different strata of the earth, in its curiously mingled and irregular structure, and in the fossil remains which it conceals in its bosom, the history of its various changes of surface, and of the antediluvian races of animals which have long been extinct. The huge Saurian monsters, which he portrays from their fossil relics, rise before the eye as incredible chimeras. And over this fertile region, now occupied by prosperous States, he revives, by the magic power of science, the antediluvian seas and their strange inhabitants, unknown to man. The Past is entombed in the Present! The world is its own enduring monument; and that which is true of its physical, is likewise true of its mental career. The discoveries of Psychometry will enable us to explore the history of man, as those of geology enable us to explore the history of the earth. There are mental fossils for psychologists as well as mineral fossils for the geologists; and I believe that hereafter the psychologist and the geologist will go hand in hand — the one portraying the earth, its animals and its vegetation, while the other portrays the human beings who have roamed over its surface in the shadows, and the darkness of primeval barbarism! Aye, the mental telescope is now discovered which may pierce the depths of the past and bring us in full view of the grand and tragic passages of ancient history! I know that, to many of my readers, unaccustomed to these investigations, and unacquainted with the first experimental facts of this great science, these anticipations must seem a visionary hope – too grand, too romantic, too transcendently beautiful to be true. But observe, that all is based upon familiar experiments, and these results are but legitimate deductions from familiar facts. As surely as the expansive power of steam gives premonition of the ocean steamship, does the power of Psychometry give promise of all the glorious performance to which I have alluded. —Buchanan, 1842 A tactile scent, groaning under the weight of aeons: wild fig, cedarwood, venerable ti leaf, and white sage. In vitro: Woody figgy. I love wood and I love figs. Let's do this. Wet on skin: The cedar and sage predominate, with the fig adding juicy sweetness. The sage contributes a very clean feeling that could strike people as smelling like really nice shampoo (Tabella did the same), but I am cool with that (I have three bottles of Tabella). Delicious, multi-dimensional cedar. Dry: Sillage is very close to the skin. This actually reminds me quite a bit of a more chilled-out Tabella, less bright and sharp, just fig and cedar and sage hanging out together. There's nothing flashy about this, in fact, but it's still compelling and substantial. It's a classy, calm, and wise scent, like meditating in a forest. Definitely unisex; I wouldn't call it masculine, but nevertheless this would probably be lovely on a guy. The sage gets stronger on drydown and reminds me of one of my favourite places in the world, the Mojave desert in southwestern Utah. Love it.
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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 A spirit-touched courtship: sweet orange blossom, white honey, jasmine tea, white sandalwood, green apple, and lily of the valley. In the bottle - Very buoyant, happy greenery. Wet - Warm. I get lots of honey. Sweet green springtime scent. Drydown - I'm smelling honey, but thinking nectar. It actually reminds me of the Nectar hair gloss, and I'm picturing a miniature butterfly garden. Tickles my nose a bit. I'd have to re-sniff my decant, but my mind is drawing parallels between this and Venus Verticordia, which I also liked. This has more going on, though. Less grass, more tea. It gets less heavy as it wears. By the end of the day, this was a spectral memory of spring. Verdict - Just lovely. I can't see anyone being offended by this. Might even be a good work scent, since it doesn't have much throw.
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[No additional description provided. Scent description for Dorian is here.] In the bottle: Slightly chilled Dorian. The musk and fougere of Dorian mingled with the chilly sweetness of Snow White. Wet: On my skin, I'm getting powdery snow and Dorian. The snow note is not ozone-y or extremely minty, nor is it citrus-y or of the slushy variety. Although I do get a sufficient amount of the cold component and Dorian, the frostbite note is more prominent on me. As it begins to dry down, the chilly part of this particular snow note ends up increasing in strength. Dry: It's a lot sweeter now, thanks to the sweetness from the snow note and the sugared vanilla tea from the Dorian (which always ends up being a dominant note once dry on me). I applied Go to Sleep, Darlings on my upper arm for reference (which features the snow note from Snow White without the floral notes). At first, Frostbitten Dorian isn't as sweet, but the scent becomes sweeter over time. It is a blustery day in the hundred acre desert, and as I was walking around outside, I kept getting hit with the same magical chilly sweetness that I get from Snow White. Verdict: Hoard-worthy.
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Practical Occultism consists, first, of a perfect mastery of the individual’s own spirit. No advance whatever can be made in acquiring power over other spirits, such as controlling the lower or supplicating the higher, until the spirit within has acquired such perfect mastery of itself, that it can never be moved to anger or emotion—realizes no pleasure, cares for no pain; experiences no mortification at insult, loss, or disappointment—in a word, subdues every emotion that stirs common men’s minds. To arrive at this state, severe and painful as well as long continued discipline is necessary. Having acquired this perfect equilibrium, the next step is power. The individual must be able to wake when he pleases and sleep when he pleases; go in spirit during bodily sleep where he will, and visit—as well as remember when awake—distant scenes. He must be enabled by practice, to telegraph, mentally, with his fellow associates, and present himself, spiritually, in their midst. He must, by practice, acquire psychological control over the minds of any persons—not his associates—beneath his own calibre of mind. He must be able to still a crying infant, subdue fierce animals or angry men, and by will, transfer his thought without speech or outward sign to any person of a mental calibre below himself; he must be enabled to summon to his presence elementary spirits, and if he desires to do so (knowing the penalties attached), to make them serve him in the special departments of Nature to which they belong. He must, by virtue of complete subjugation of his earthly nature, be able to invoke Planetary and even Solar Spirits, and commune with them to a certain degree. To attain these degrees of power the processes are so difficult that a thorough practical occultist can scarcely become one and yet continue his relations with his fellow-men. He must continue, from the first to the last degree, a long series of exercises, each one of which must be perfected before another is undertaken. A practical occultist may be of either sex, but must observe as the first law inviolable chastity—and that with a view of conserving all the virile powers of the organism. No aged person, especially one who has not lived the life of strict chastity, can acquire the full sum of the powers above named. It is better to commence practice in early youth, for after the meridian of life, when the processes of waste prevail over repair, few of the powers above described can be attained; the full sum never. Strict abstinence from animal food and all stimulants is necessary. Frequent ablutions and long periods of silent contemplation are essential. Codes of exercises for the attainment of these powers can be prescribed, but few, if any, of the self-indulgent livers of modern times can perform their routine. The arts necessary for study to the practical occultist are, in addition to those prescribed in speculative occultism, a knowledge of the qualities of drugs, vapors, minerals, electricity, perfumes, fumigations, and all kinds of anæsthetics. And now, having given in brief as much as is consistent with my position—as the former associate of a secret society—I have simply to add, that, whilst there are, as in Masonry, certain preliminary degrees to pass through, there are numerous others to which a thoroughly well organized and faithful association might advance. In each degree there are some valuable elements of practical occultism demanded, whilst the teachings conveyed are essential preliminaries. In a word, speculative occultism must precede practical occultism; the former is love and wisdom, the latter, simply power. A Victorian occultist’s incense, invoking the Four Archangels: precious wildcrafted Indian frankincense with myrrh, cassia, sandarac, palmarosa, white sage, red sandalwood, elemi, and drops of star anise bound with grains of kyphi. In the bottle: kyphi! A fruity, wine-y kyphi scent with lots of cassia and a bit of anise. On skin: glorious spicy kyphi. This smells less like Cairo’s lemongrassy-rosy take on kyphi, not as wine-y or ashen as Philosopher in Meditation, it’s more like the kyphi note from the Oak and Kyphi atmosphere spray, or the Chthonic Kyphi incense from TAL. It’s spicy, resinous and complex. Cinnamon/cassia is the most obvious note, but it’s also full of myrrh, frankincense, red wine and honeyed raisins, there’s also a hint of fuzzy sage to it as well. The anise isn’t there any more. I absolutely love the resinous spicy scent this has. It reminds me a bit of Haloa but without the foody notes. It also reminds me of Egg Moon’s cinnamon frankincense. After a while: it doesn’t change too much but I think the honey and wine aspects of the kyphi become more obvious. The resins deepen further, the cassia becomes warmer. The myrrh is wonderful in here, it reminds me of the myrrh in Priala, especially with the cinnamon, but not as smoky. Something about it reminds me of a couple of last year’s phoenix scents. Verdict: probably the best kyphi scent by BPAL so far. If you are a kyphi lover, you must get this. It’s brimming with spice and resin and honeyed wine, all in balance. Yule is a perfect time for this scent to be on sale, there’s something almost festive to it because of the combination of red wine and cinnamon, frankincense and myrrh, at times it reminds me of mulled wine in a church during a Christmas service, but it’s got that undertone of mystery and darkness hinting at more ancient, occult origins for this particular incense blend. The great thing is that it’s cinnamony but doesn’t burn my skin. I’m glad I took a chance on this as it’s perfect, I think it will age amazingly. Is it a keeper? for sure. Maybe a backup? If you like this, try: Egg Moon, Pliny’s Phoenix, Tacitus’s Phoenix, Priala the Human Phoenix, Oak Leaves and Kyphi atmosphere spray, Saturnian Phoenix, Philosopher in Meditation, Haloa, Cairo, Saint Foutin de Varailles, Valentine of Rome
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The festival of Roman goddess of death, Larenta, who was also known as Dea Tacita, the Silent Goddess. Spells to silence and bind slanderous enemies were cast on her holy days, as were spells of closure and suppression. During this time, offerings to the dead are left on thresholds, where spirits are said to dwell. A Roman funeral garden: cypress, thyme, oleander, crocus, gladiola, amaranth, and myrtle shrouded by herbs and flowers sacred to the Silent One. A brown/green scent with quite a bit of throw. The greens here remind me of when I used to go around at night clipping the neighborhood English boxwoods and hollies for greens to use in wreathmaking. This isn't the cedar and pine of craft store/car freshener variety. Gentle florals, no divas. They are tucked into the herbs. Smelling Larentalia deeply, I wonder if it's just a nice meditative blend or perhaps some magical intent was used in creating it. It's one of those BPAL's that smell like they come from Twilight Alchemy Lab. As a Yule blend, this works for those moments you reflect on dear ones who have departed. When nostalgia takes over. So often it's said the Winter holidays are for children. There is always a place for those who've passed on. Curious I pulled this out right after Mourning Moon. >>>>>> Takes another deep breath of the perfume. Hopefully I haven't any enemies and if these are none of them are slandering me.
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Unbound from her prison-throne, mirror aloft; within her cloak dance the stories of Bathsheba, Deborah, and Mary Magdalene. Plum velvet, red wine, and sweet, dark oudh. Caveat - this is fresh out of the mail. first sniff was the red fruit. Wet down had a nod to coffee syrup but as it's drying it morphs into red fruit powdery incense. I have high hopes. Praying it doesn't go full powder. It's light too not intense. Will revisit in a day or two once it settles. 2nd round ( a few hours later) - Gave in and it's already morphed into something more sophisticated. I'm going to have to think of what it reminds me of - the fruit is not forward now - its more of a dept store sophisticate. Can't wait to see what it turns into tomorrow.
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Hanerot halalu anachnu madlikin Al hanissim ve'al haniflaot Al hatshu-ot ve'al hamilchamot She-asita la'avoteynu Bayamim hahem, bazman hazeh Al yedey kohanecha hakdoshim. Vechol shmonat yemey Chanukah Hanerot halalu kodesh hem, Ve-ein lanu reshut lehishtamesh bahem Ela lirotam bilvad Kedai lehodot leshimcha Al nissecha veal nifleotecha ve-al yeshuotecha. We light these lights For the miracles and the wonders, For the redemption and the battles That you made for our forefathers In those days at this season, Through your holy priests. During all eight days of Chanukah These lights are sacred And we are not permitted to make Ordinary use of them, But only to look at them; In order to express thanks And praise to your great Name For your miracles, your wonders And your salvations. Olive oil, beeswax, and smoke. First review? Really?? Ack, the pressure! Primarily this smells like beeswax, honey, and the smoke of blown-out candles, with a little sweet orange. I'm not getting much olive oil at all. There's something almost creamy in this (to my nose, cream always smells like coconut, which is a little disconcerting), but it's not really foody. Between the beeswax and that phantom citrus note, this reminds me a lot of a smokier and less resinous No. 93 Engine. I like it and will keep the partial, but since Engine is GC, I won't need a bottle of this. Verdict: Get this if you want to smell like freshly blown-out candles. ETA: After several hours (and does this ever last! I'm still smelling it 8 hours later!) this becomes a lot more creamy/beeswaxy and less smoky. It's really quite cozy and nice. This would be a good one to try if you wanted to like Ichabod Crane, but he was just too weird. Or if you did like Ichabod.
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On my arrival (June 5) all appeared fair enough. I found the mediums established on the second floor of a small house in Ninth Street near Arch. There were but two rooms on the floor, a front parlor and a bedroom; the lower floor under both rooms being occupied as a shop for the sale of musical instruments. In a back corner of the parlor was a walnut cabinet, seven feet wide and eight feet high, with a door that opened into the parlor, and two apertures, five and six feet high respectively, both curtained with black cloth. We had lamp-light, shaded but sufficient to enable us to recognize faces and to see everything that passed in the room. After we had examined the cabinet, the medium entered it, closing the door. Soon at one of the apertures appeared a fair, thoughtful young face, a girl of eighteen apparently, by whom I was cordially welcomed in a low, pleasant voice. She returned and spoke to us several times. At the close of the sitting she twice appeared, robed in white, just within the cabinet door; not coming out, however, into the room: the first time (so I was told) that she had ever shown herself in full form. It was evidently a living, moving, thinking being. Yet I suspended judgment. One of the mediums was out of our sight. Then there was a door locked, padlocked, and otherwise effectually secured, it seemed, but yet a door from the cabinet into the bedroom adjoining. The possibility of a confederate suggested itself. Forty memorable sittings followed. Gradually test conditions were perfected, and every imaginable ground for suspecting deception was removed; and then, instead of failure, all the phenomena came out in greater perfection than before. I select the more remarkable; to copy my notes in full would involve tedious repetition. June 7. Katie allowed Dr. Child to feel her pulse; its beats were distinct, about seventy-two a minute. A lady offered her a gold ring, and asked me to put it on her finger. I did so. The hand, beautifully formed, was like that of a mortal woman, nearly of the same temperature as my own, and slightly moist. At the close of the sitting she advanced into the room, dropped a finger on my head, and touched several other persons. June 9. I gave her a long chain, composed of Violets hair, a present to myself more than forty-five years ago: hoping, as I told Katie, thereby to attract Violet herself in accordance with her promise. I observed that Katie wore the gold ring. But when, at the close of the sitting, examined with a light every nook and corner in the cabinet, neither ring nor chain was to be found. June 10. Katie called me up to the aperture, handed me back the hair chain, and said: Violet wishes you to keep this, in memory of her, until you are called to meet her in her spirit-home. Touching Visitants From a Higher Life, Robert Dale Owen In memory of her: green cognac, rose water, and Italian bergamot. In the bottle, its a beautiful, sweet green scent. The first few hours, it is a well-balanced blend of the bergamot and the cognac, with just the faintest bit of rose to keep it from being foody or boozy. It has a slightly sparkling feel to it, and it is really wonderful... I feel like is almost more like something you could get at a store, except that it isnt artificial-smelling or overpowering. I cant think of how to describe it exactly? Its just gentle and sweet but still unique. As time passed, the rose came out more... and the balance shifted to be more rose-bergamot with the cognac sweetness but no distinct cognac-ness. At the end it was just rose, which turned a little powdery. Overall I really like this one a lot and really recommend it. Its also the type of scent that I think would make a nice gift because I feel like a lot of people would enjoy it.
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No additional description provided. Scent description for Blood Amber is here.] Creamy Snow White and amber. It's a very creamy almond snow with amber, and a touch of dragon's blood which sweetens it up. Medium throw and wear length.
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MIDNIGHT MASS I will wash my hands among the innocent; and will compass thy altar, O Lord: That I may hear the voice of thy praise: and tell of all thy wondrous works. I have loved, O Lord, the beauty of thy house; and the place where thy glory dwelleth. Take not away my soul, O God, with the wicked: nor my life with bloody men: In whose hands are iniquities: their right hand is filled with gifts. But as for me, I have walked in my innocence: redeem me, and have mercy on me. My foot hath stood in the direct way: in the churches I will bless thee, O Lord. In Roman Catholic tradition, the Christmas season begins liturgically on Christmas Eve, though it is forbidden to celebrate the Christmas Mass before midnight. The most devout attend Midnight Mass, celebrating both the Eucharist and the drama of the Nativity. This perfume is a traditional Roman Catholic sacramental incense, most often used during a Solemn Mass. Traditionally, five tears of this incense, each encased individually in wax that has been fashioned into the shape of a nail, are inserted into the paschal candle. This is, of course, represents the Five Wounds of Our Risen Savior. Symbolically, the burning of the incense signifies spiritual fervor, the fragrance itself inspires virtue, and the rising smoke carries our prayers to God. Credo in unum Deum, Patrem omnipotentem, factorem caeli et terrae, visibilium omnium et invisibilium. Et in unum Dominum Iesum Christum, Filium Dei unigenitum, et ex Patre natum ante omnia saecula. Deum de Deo, Lumen de Lumine, Deum verum de Deo vero, genitum non factum, consubstantialem Patri; per quem omnia facta sunt. Qui propter nos homines et propter nostram salutem descendit de caelis. Et incarnatus est de Spiritu Sancto ex Maria Virgine, et homo factus est. Crucifixus etiam pro nobis sub Pontio Pilato, passus et sepultus est, et resurrexit tertia die, secundum Scripturas, et ascendit in caelum, sedet ad dexteram Patris. Et iterum venturus est cum gloria, iudicare vivos et mortuos, cuius regni non erit finis. Et in Spiritum Sanctum, Dominum et vivificantem, qui ex Patre procedit. Qui cum Patre et Filio simul adoratur et conglorificatur: qui locutus est per prophetas. Et unam, sanctam, catholicam et apostolicam Ecclesiam. Confiteor unum baptisma in remissionem peccatorum. Et expecto resurrectionem mortuorum, et vitam venturi saeculi. Amen. at first: soft resins and incense. on: sharper than in the bottle, but still softer than i thought it would be. very lovely. exactly like church incense. half an hour later: this is still pretty much the same, maybe a tiny bit sweeter. 1.5 hours later: still the same. amazing! the sweetness is pretty much gone. 2.5 hours later: yeah, i don't know what else to say. overall: lovely stuff. this was the only yule LE i ordered and i'm glad i chose it.
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No additional description provided. Scent description for Sin is here.] I got mainly Snow White plus cinnamon and a dash of sandalwood. It was very chilly snowy but with cinnamon. Good throw and wear length.
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A chilly, bright perfume: flurries of virgin snow, crisp winter wind and the faintest breath of night-blooming flowers. Limited Edition; December 2003. Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab has been outdoing themselves with the limited edition scents lately, and this is a sterling example! This is an airy, crisp, barely floral that is warm and soft, all the while making me picture the first snow and the sharp, clean scent that accompanies it. I know warm and snow don't sound like they go together, but let me assure you that they do! My all-time favorite. I wonder if Elizabeth would consider keeping some of the limited editions based on customer response ... I'd e-mail daily on this one.
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Fear of Riding in Cars Encased in a roaring tomb of vinyl siding, strangled by nylon bindings, arms bruised and battered by writhing bodies punching and pummeling—punctuated by wild cries of SLUG BUG and CALL BOX—and endless discordant choruses of 99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall. Motor oil, a burst of exhaust, a faded tree-shaped air freshener, and crushed gas station chocolates. Based on description alone, this is less an everyday scent and more of a marvel, not the most wearable but certainly impressive in terms of accuracy. That said, this is a very nostalgic scent for me. My father is what some might call a 'gearhead', and as such I was made familiar with the smells of everything automotive from a young age. This reminds me of all the times I was dragged into the garage to unwillingly assist with some project, and the smell that clung to my clothes thereafter. All the fumes without the headache; the smell of a busy garage or mechanic's shop. The exhaust note is strongest at first but the air freshener (pine, like the little tree-shaped ones) is apparent too. I also get a whiff of what smells like tires, and perhaps antifreeze as well. This is not a casual scent by any means! I'd likely wear this to a racetrack, rock concert, or out drinking.
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"The case I allude to is that of an invalid woman who belongs to the humblest class of society. She is nearly thirty years old and very ignorant; her look is neither fascinating nor endowed with the power which modern criminologists call irresistible; but when she wishes, be it by day or by night, she can divert a curious group for an hour or so with the most surprising phenomena. Either bound to a seat or firmly held by the hands of the curious, she attracts to her the articles of furniture which surround her, lifts them up, holds them suspended in the air like Mahomet’s coffin, and makes them come down again with undulatory movements, as if they were obeying her will. She increases their weight or lessens it according to her pleasure. She raps or taps upon the walls, the ceiling, the floor, with fine rhythm and cadence. In response to the requests of the spectators, something like flashes of electricity shoot forth from her body, and envelop her or enwrap the spectators of these marvellous scenes. She draws upon cards that you hold out, everything that you want – figures, signatures, numbers, sentences – by just stretching out her hand toward the indicated place. “If you place in the corner of the room a vessel containing a layer of soft clay, you find after some moments the imprint in it of a small or a large hand, the image of a face (front view or profile) from which a plaster cast can be taken. In this way portraits of a face taken at different angles have been preserved, and those who desire so to do can thus make serious and important studies. “This woman rises in the air, no matter what bands tie her down. She seems to lie upon the empty air, as on a couch, contrary to all the laws of gravity; she plays on musical instruments – organs, bells, tambourines – as if they had been touched by her hands or moved by the breath of invisible gnomes… This woman at times can increase her stature by more than four inches. —Chiaia, in a letter to Lombroso Pale lilacs, white tea, and candle wax. The Lab's candlewax always starts out with a burst of citrus (to my nose, at least), in this case a light clementine-juice scent that obscures the lilac completely while wet. 10 min: Spicy? Tingly-spicy? I'm not sure where that's coming from, but the white tea comes out too, with the lilacs. 20 min: Lilac gets a bad rap around here sometimes, and I was really rooting for it, but the beeswax is making the floral part smell a bit sour and sweaty. It's a very light and inoffensive scent, but when I get in close to the wrist to go "where my lilacs at" it smells like someone holding a lilac bloom crushed in a sweaty fist. 25 min: Sweaty part over. Soft, light, citrussy floral. Flowery but not distinctively lilac. Verdict: Not for me. [EDIT: I don't know when I'm going to learn that it really does make a difference to let scents settle after coming here in the post, but this one was pretty different on second test. Way more wax, no weird citrus, a warm and sweet beeswax scent with a distinct high-toned floral. Though it still doesn't really smell like lilacs to me? I have no idea.]
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But on what could an impression be left? An impression of such a nature becomes a material thing and implies a material nexus, however subtle. So far as we know there are only two things there, the air and the ether. The air is a mobile thing and could not carry a permanent impression. But is the ether a mobile thing? It is pictured as a most delicate medium with vibrating currents flowing in it, but it seems to me that a most tenuous jelly with quivers and thrills would be a closer analogy. We could conceive the whole material universe embedded in and interpenetrated by this subtle material, which would not necessarily change its position since it is too fine for wind or any coarser material to influence it. I feel that I am rushing in where even Lodges fear to tread, but if it should prove to be as I suggest then we should have that permanent screen on which shadows are thrown. The block of ether upon the stairs is the same that it always was, and so conveys the impression from the past. the Edge of the Unknown, Arthur Conan Doyle Gentle, almost imperceptible, permeating all things: pale amber vibrating with ambergris and a thread of lavender. This is one of the purest, most beautiful lavenders I've ever smelled. It's up there with Hidden Purpose bath oil! It's the perfect balance between floral and herbal lavender, with just a hint of salty, spicy ambergris enhancing it. The ambergris gets more prominent as it dries down, with more of a 50/50 balance between that soft ocean scent and the lavender. It's amazingly, and yes, a little ethereal. I'm probably going to need more bottles.
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My most remarkable experience has been with Dr. H. Slade of New York, for whom I have formed a high regard. I first met him at his residence last November, when, without announcing my name, in three consecutive sittings, at eleven o’clock in the morning, seated at a small, bare table in the centre of a light room, there written on the under side of a slate placed on the table, several communications addressed to me, purporting to come from my deceased friends. I pass over the other manifestations – such as the movement of heavy articles of furniture in plain view, without visible contact – and confine myself to the writing on the slate, which I regarded with most interest… – Thos. W. Waterman, Binghamton, NY, July 14, 1873 The result of a physical law which is not yet understood, and the existence of which has hitherto scarcely been suspected: beeswax candles, chalk, and dust. In the Bottle: Rich beewax and a little bit of a dusty background On the Skin: The beautiful lab beeswax note, rich and sweet. The dry chalky note and dust emerges quite quickly to dry out the blend and tone down the sweetness of the beeswax. I am loving the chalkiness. On the Drydown: Stays fairly consistent through the drydown as a dusty beeswax but the beeswax amps up every now and then. I love it.
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For the sake of continuity the subsequent history of the Fox sisters will now be given after the events at Hydesville. It is a remarkable, and to Spiritualists a painful, story, but it bears its own lesson and should be faithfully recorded. When men have an honest and whole-hearted aspiration for truth there is no development which can ever leave them abashed or find no place in their scheme. For some years the two younger sisters, Kate and Margaret, gave séances at New York and other places, successfully meeting every test which was applied to them. Horace Greeley, afterwards a candidate for the United States presidency, was, as already shown, deeply interested in them and convinced of their entire honesty. He is said to have furnished the funds by which the younger girl completed her very imperfect education. During these years of public mediumship, when the girls were all the rage among those who had no conception of the religious significance of this new revelation, and who concerned themselves with it purely in the hope of worldly advantage, the sisters exposed themselves to the enervating influences of promiscuous séances in a way which no earnest Spiritualist could justify. The dangers of such practices were not then so clearly realized as now, nor had it occurred to people that it is unlikely that high spirits would descend to earth in order to advise as to the state of railway stocks or the issue of love affairs. The ignorance was universal, and there was no wise mentor at the elbow of these poor pioneers to point the higher and the safer path. Worst of all, their jaded energies were renewed by the offer of wine at a time when one at least of them was hardly more than a child. It is said that there was some family predisposition towards alcoholism, but even without such a taint their whole procedure and mode of life were rash to the last degree. Against their moral character there has never been a breath of suspicion, but they had taken a road which leads to degeneration of mind and character, though it was many years before the more serious effects were manifest. Some idea of the pressure upon the Fox girls at this time may be gathered from Mrs. Hardinge Britten's* description from her own observation. She talks of “pausing on the first floor to hear poor patient Kate Fox, in the midst of a captious, grumbling crowd of investigators, repeating hour after hour the letters of the alphabet, while the no less poor, patient spirits rapped out names, ages and dates to suit all comers.” Can one wonder that the girls, with vitality sapped, the beautiful, watchful influence of the mother removed, and harassed by enemies, succumbed to a gradually increasing temptation in the direction of stimulants? —Arthur Conan Doyle Deception and despair: rose geranium and tea roses with mahogany wood, bourbon vanilla, and apple peel. I can definitely smell the apple peel, but it's not that meekly-fruity apple note that I disliked in many BPALs - this is red, blood-red, juicy-blood-red apple that's almost aggressive in its boldness. Man, finally an apple scent I like! It settles back after a while, letting the geranium and mahogany have a chance, and what a perfect combination of notes this is! I smell almost no rose and vanilla is hiding back there somewhere, apparent but subtle. The main notes remain red apple, mahogany and geranium, and it's a brilliant blend. Polished, red and mouth-wateringly juicy. Very glad I got a bottle!
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Dr. E. S. Packard, of Corunna, Me., in the Eastern Star, states that Mr. David Prescott, of South Sangerville, over ninety years of age, “wandered away into the woods, and not returning, a crowd of over a hundred men hunted for him nearly two days; the mill pond near his house was drained. Search was made in every direction but to no success. “A gentleman of that place decided to call in the aid of Mrs. Stevens; she told him somebody was lost, and not being able to visit the place she drew a map or chart of the locality, giving directions, by which, on his return he was immediately found alive, but died the next day. The day following I was at South Sangerville, and stopping at this gentleman’s house, examined the map, which was perfect in every respect. The house and shed were correctly drawn, the mill and pond near the house were marked, the field and woods, two fences over which Mr. Prescott must climb, even to the swinging of the road by the house was definitely given. “The spot where she said he was, was shown by a large black mark, and he was found exactly in that place. When we consider that Mrs. Stevens never saw this place in her normal condition, it is to me a wonderful test of spirit power.” Absolute and perfect clarity: rockrose, white amber, Corsican immortelle, Siamese benzoin, white sandalwood, and life everlasting. Sniffed, I get clouds of sweet sandalwood incense and white cotton -- not "clean laundry," but something white and cottony and opaque. I think this particular iteration of white amber is doing the powdery thing. It's not floral-forward, though the flowers advance as the blend wears down. Mostly, it's reading as benzoin/sandalwood dusting powder. There's a non-foody but vanilla-like sweetness (probably the benzoin, which contains vanillin). Also, somehow, the blend smells white. The vanilla-resin-powderyness makes me place it in the XYZ Lace family of Lab blends (e.g. Antique Lace, Black Lace, Red Lace). So this is... Psychic Lace.
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[No additional description provided. Scent description for Snake Oil is here.] In the bottle: Lightly chilled Snake Oil. Wet: The fresh Snake Oil is far stronger than the frostbite component at first, which I believe is the chilled sweet snow note from Snow White. After a few minutes, the sweet snow note ends up becoming stronger. It really feels as if it is draped over the top of the Snake Oil, like Snake Oil curled up in a Snow White blanket. Dry: Like Snake Oil and Snow White had a baby. It's a snowdrift of the chilly sweetness of Go to Sleep, Darlings and Snow White over fresh Snake Oil. Verdict: My bottle leaked in a little transit, but was still full, and as soon as I smelled the scent on the bubble wrap, I was like, SNAKE OIL SNOW WHITE. HYPE! I tried to calm myself down before applying it in case I was mistaken. But that's what I ended up getting on my skin. This is really lovely. I'm really surprised how much the sweet snow note comes through, and I can't wait to see how this ages!
