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Showing results for tags 'Yule 2018'.
Found 110 results
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Blackened patchouli, sweet vetiver, labdanum, and honey. I forgot what the notes of this were when I grabbed it to wear this morning, but I've been in love with it all day and now I see why. It's like a slightly sharper cousin to this year's Zoe and the Goat weenie. When first applied it's a blast of smoky patchouli with a hint of vetiver peeking out. As it dries down, the vetiver becomes a bit stronger and the honey appears, as does a scent that I assume is the labdanum. These mix with the patchouli and create a really complex and lovely scent. I love it both freshly applied and hours later. I'm probably gonna need a backup bottle.
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Red musk, black amber, red leather, teakwood, smoked lavender, and plum. This is one sexy blend. For fans of red musk, this one is different enough to include in the collection. The warm leather and teak gives it almost a unisex quality - in fact, I'll be trying this one on a boy soon - along the lines of Hellfire or Dee, with the faint whiffs of smoky lavender and red musk swirling into the mix, and that beautiful plum note from the lab giving it all a rich purply note. But it's the leather that is really warming this one up for me and sinking into my skin. It's incredibly sexy as it settles, losing throw but gaining that really nice second-skin quality. For fun, I put it up against Mme. Moriarty, with whom it shares the red musk and plum. They are quite different, but absolutely deserve to share shelf space in the same collection. Fans of A Savage Veil or Shadow in the Elevator (kissing cousins, minus the leather note) should definitely check this one out. I hadn't tried a red musk/leather scent before and Fifth Lash works SO well. I wish its throw lasted longer but really that is my only complaint. It's gorgeous.
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A chilly, bright perfume: flurries of virgin snow, crisp winter wind and the faintest breath of night-blooming flowers. Yay! This is my first BPTP hair gloss, and I'm so glad it's Snow White, my one true BPAL love. Opening up the bottle I am hit with the Snow White I know and I love. I stopped and smiled for a moment- Snow White just kind of evokes happiness for me. This is a mist spray, not a pump or a squirt, which is good- I prefer mists. As a hair gloss, I will definitely want to spray it on my hands first and smooth it over my hair for better, more even distribution. Spraying it directly onto my hair can cause some strands to be way oilier than others. I am really quite pleasantly surprised- this really does make my hair soft and shiny. My hair's quite long (little below tailbone length), wavy, and prone to being frizzy with stubbornly coarse ends. I don't remember the last time they felt this soft. As far as smell goes, this is wet-out-of-the-bottle Snow White, all beautiful cold snow and a hint of florals. There also seems to be some other faint scent in there that I'm not familiar with- I don't know if it's this year's Snow White as I haven't gotten a bottle of the perfume from the Lab yet, or if it's just the hair gloss itself. I can't put my finger on it- it's a little sharp, maybe a little...earthy? Kind of...vegetable-y? My husband described it as "chemical-y." It's fading though, as the gloss settles onto my hair, leaving behind just pure Snow White. I bought two bottles of this on blind faith and love for Snow White alone. If I can't extract a promise from Puddin' that Snow White will reappear next Yule in hair gloss form, I may have to buy more. I don't ever want to be without this.
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The perfected winter rose, dew covered and freshly cut. So. I never could wear Rose Red as a perfume oil. There is something in it that mixes with my skin chemistry and turns bad. I lose that sweet rose top note, and am left with despair. I ordered Rose Red HG hoping that the top note would stay, and was not disappointed. I now have the perfect HG for all my rosy needs. Rose Red is beautiful, and very strong. Rose lovers, buy this, hoard it. It is lovely.
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‘To make frumente. Tak clene whete & braye yt wel in a morter tyl the holes gon of; seethe it til it breste in water. Nym it up & lat it cole. Tak good broth & swete mylk of kyn or of almand & tempere it therwith. Nym yelkes of eyren rawe & saffroun & cast therto; salt it: lat it naught boyle after the etren ben cast therinne. Messe it forth.’ In parts of rural England, the last sheaf of grain from autumn’s harvest were added to a sweet porridge that was eaten on Christmas morning to ensure good health and strength during the dark of the year. Cracked wheat cooked in cream and ale with currants, cinnamon, nutmeg, and ginger. Frumenty to me smells like cinnamon, nutmeg and popcorn. I think its the effect of the cracked wheat cooked which smells like a cooked grain, which means to me... popcorn. Spiced porridge if you like. Medium throw and wear length.
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Almond Blossom Even iron can put forth, Even iron. This is the iron age, But let us take heart Seeing iron break and bud, Seeing rusty iron puff with clouds of blossom. The almond-tree, December's bare iron hooks sticking out of earth. The almond-tree, That knows the deadliest poison, like a snake In supreme bitterness. Upon the iron, and upon the steel, Odd flakes as if of snow, odd bits of snow, Odd crumbs of melting snow. But you mistake, it is not from the sky; From out the iron, and from out the steel, Flying not down from heaven, but storming up, Strange storming up from the dense under-earth Along the iron, to the living steel In rose-hot tips, and flakes of rose-pale snow Setting supreme annunciation to the world. Nay, what a heart of delicate super-faith, Iron-breaking, The rusty swords of almond-trees. Trees suffer, like races, down the long ages. They wander and are exiled, they live in exile through long ages Like drawn blades never sheathed, hacked and gone black, The alien trees in alien lands: and yet The heart of blossom, The unquenchable heart of blossom! Look at the many-cicatrised frail vine, none more scarred and frail, Yet see him fling himself abroad in fresh abandon From the small wound-stump. Even the wilful, obstinate, gummy fig-tree Can be kept down, but he'll burst like a polyp into prolixity. And the almond-tree, in exile, in the iron age! This is the ancient southern earth whence the vases were baked, amphoras, craters, cantharus, oenochoe, and open-hearted cylix, Bristling now with the iron of almond-trees Iron, but unforgotten, Iron, dawn-hearted, Ever-beating dawn-heart, enveloped in iron against the exile, against the ages. See it come forth in blossom From the snow-remembering heart In long-nighted January, In the long dark nights of the evening star, and Sirius, and the Etna snow-wind through the long night. Sweating his drops of blood through the long-nighted Gethsemane Into blossom, into pride, into honey-triumph, into most exquisite splendour. Oh, give me the tree of life in blossom And the Cross sprouting its superb and fearless flowers! Something must be reassuring to the almond, in the evening star, and the snow-wind, and the long, long, nights, Some memory of far, sun-gentler lands, So that the faith in his heart smiles again And his blood ripples with that untenable delight of once-more-vindicated faith, And the Gethsemane blood at the iron pores unfolds, unfolds, Pearls itself into tenderness of bud And in a great and sacred forthcoming steps forth, steps out in one stride A naked tree of blossom, like a bridegroom bathing in dew, divested of cover, Frail-naked, utterly uncovered To the green night-baying of the dog-star, Etna's snow-edged wind And January's loud-seeming sun. Think of it, from the iron fastness Suddenly to dare to come out naked, in perfection of blossom, beyond the sword-rust. Think, to stand there in full-unfolded nudity, smiling, With all the snow-wind, and the sun-glare, and the dog-star baying epithalamion. Oh, honey-bodied beautiful one, Come forth from iron, Red your heart is. Fragile-tender, fragile-tender life-body, More fearless than iron all the time, And so much prouder, so disdainful of reluctances. In the distance like hoar-frost, like silvery ghosts communing on a green hill, Hoar-frost-like and mysterious. In the garden raying out With a body like spray, dawn-tender, and looking about With such insuperable, subtly-smiling assurance, Sword-blade-born. Unpromised, No bounds being set. Flaked out and come unpromised, The tree being life-divine, Fearing nothing, life-blissful at the core Within iron and earth. Knots of pink, fish-silvery In heaven, in blue, blue heaven, Soundless, bliss-full, wide-rayed, honey-bodied, Red at the core, Red at the core, Knotted in heaven upon the fine light. Open, Open, Five times wide open, Six times wide open, And given, and perfect; And red at the core with the last sore-heartedness, Sore-hearted-looking. - DH Lawrence Something must be reassuring to the almond, in the evening star, and the snow-wind, and the long, long, nights: almond blossom, hoar-frost, and snow-wind. When I first read the description for this scent I thought it would be full on almond, as in the nut, not the blossom! So when I first caught the scent when I opened the bottle I was taken aback! It had a very light flower scent, with no hint of the nutty goodness I was expecting. However the floral scent from the almond blossom was very light and pleasant so I applied a dab to my skin. The floral amped up immediately and I became a little nervous, floral and I do not get along much. But once my skin had a chance to work with the oils it blossomed into a floral I could actually wear! It is very light, and slightly warmed with the briefest touch of almond, and I think I could actually smell the cold snow-wind! The scent is almost alive, as if you would catch it on a breeze while walking through a forest in March, when some buds opened in anticipation of longer days and warm sun, only to be pushed back into winter with a surprise dusting of snow.... I don't know how she does it, but Bravo, Beth!!
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[No additional description provided.] In The Bottle: Mostly gingerbread, with a little of that extra-lemony aspect that fresh ginger frequently has. Wet On Skin: The gingerbread is, like, REAL gingerbread. I'm getting the lemon, the cake, the spice, the sharpness. It's really different than my previous experiences of the gingerbread single note (like, say, in Gingerbread Snake Oil). I'm liking it- but I also hope that the coffee and vanilla come out to play soon! Dry Down: Astoundingly, I am getting ZERO coffee from this. Which is odd, because coffee notes usually sit well on my skin -they don't amp, but they are *very* present. The vanilla has finally made an appearance, but I'm not getting the smoked aspect, either- this is more like gingerbread with a little dollop of vanilla cream plooped right on top. It's delicious, and I'm betting will get better with age, but it's not the scent that I thought it was going to be. If you're hoping for a coffee-heavy scent, check out some of the other 2018 Yule offerings, cause you might be sad about that with this one.
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I can only consider departed spirits and ministering angels, as one innumerable company continually surrounding us. And are they not as nearly united to their fellow soldiers now, as when in the body ! What should hinder ? Gratitude and affection are natives of heaven, and live for ever. Forgetfulness is a property of mortality, and drops off with the body. Therefore, they that loved us in the Lord, will surely love us for ever. Can anything material interrupt the sight or presence of a spirit ? Nay,— ‘Walk within walls no more the passage bar, Than unopposing space of liquid air.’ – the British Spiritual Telegraph, Vol. 3 No. 6, April 1859 Blackened opoponax and frankincense smoke shrouded in wilted roses, black taffeta, and tear-stained lace. A deliciate, somber, soft rose...this scent reminds me of Antique Lace and the Best Lies with some incense wafting through. The rose is pink and faded but still slightly juicy, with a bit of muskiness, but darkened to a lovely sepia around the edges. Wistful and unassuming, but still well estabilished.... I can see this scent fitting in nicely anywhere.
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Bitter almond, cacao, black cherry, patchouli, and labdanum. Oddly enough, this smells like Cherry coke and a whiff of dusty patchouli. I think the labdanum, combined with the bitter almond and black cherry end up as a sort of cherry cola type smell, and then you get that over a bit of dusty patchouli. Medium throw and wear length.
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A smoldering bundle of pine needles, bark, and resin with myrrh, frankincense, and burgundy pitch. Pine Smoke hair gloss is like a Christmas tree + church incense for my hair. I was hoping it might have the same vibe as my beloved Frankincense and Pine Pitch atmo, and yes, it does. The ‘smoke’ element is not too strong, more of a suggestion than outright smoke. I’m glad for that, as I’m not sure I’d want my hair to smell overly smoky. Delightful!
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Snickerdoodle Coffee with Hazelnut Cream Atmosphere Spray
ellocentipede posted a topic in Atmosphere
All sweetness and warmth. Yep—this one does what it says on the tin. Creamy, rich coffee with a hint of hazelnut (not too hazelnutty, but just enough to give a hint of rich nuttiness), cinnamon sugar, and a bit of burnt cookie. Snag this one if you love foodie coffee blends. -
Now, suppose this is to be accepted as the rational and scientific explanation of all the phenomena of this order which have been observed since the human race began to conserve records of its own experience. To what conclusion should we be logically forced? The believe in the objective reality of apparitions under such conditions would have to make way for a new conception, but the point which is really at issue between the materialist and the spiritualist would remain untouched. That issue relates to the permanence of the human personality after death. The spiritualist will point you to his own experiences as affording evidence of the permanence of personality. The materialist is certain that all the experiences of which the spiritualist is conscious result from the operation of natural law. But the eternal question of the soul – “Am I an immortal thing?” – is not to be decided either by the proof of the existence of whole armies of ghosts, or by the rational explanation of all apparitional phenomena whatsoever. The spiritualist falls into an easy error in the supposition that a continuance of personality on a new plane implies a permanence of continuity. What guarantee has a ghost of being immortal? Me not he also perish out of his appointed sphere? And why might we not fancy a whole procession of lives in phantom state – each more ghostly, more attenuated than its forerunner – the ghost of a man, the ghost of a man’s ghost, the ghost of a “ghost’s” ghost, until the thin thing fades into nonentity and slips back into the universal element? The materialist falls into an error parallel with that of the spiritualist when he conceives that a rational explanation of all ghostly phenomena has disposed of a belief in immortality. The concept is as independent of evidence, and as unsupportable by evidence as it is indestructible by evidence. We can neither prove nor disprove, but the balance of reason is still upon the side of the believer and it favours strongly the hope of a continued existence and a continued growth. We can but argue from things known. In all nature we find the clearest evidence of law of progress. – the Occult Review, January 1905 Falling into nonentity and slipping back into the universal element: pallid oakmoss and earthy patchouli tumbling into a void of misty lavender, cistus, and white agarwood. Misty lavender, oakmoss, and a whiff of patchouli. Misty is right! This is wispy, ghostly lavender. Medium throw and wear length.
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A melancholy, deep scent, poignant and brimming with nostalgia. The perfume of sugared plums over a breeze of winter flowers. I haven't tried this on my skin yet, but it smells delicious out of the bottle. It smells like a candy or sweet that I of course can't think of the name right now.
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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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Unearthly howls reverberate in the shadows of a darkened wood: black cedar, yew berries, juniper and frost-crusted moss, crushed beneath a shaggy spectral black musk. Frostbitten Malediction and Skadi had a baby in a pine forest. Love it! Goes on sweet, slowly turns dark.
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Black rose, Baltic amber, leather, white sandalwood, black pepper, and vetiver. Rose, sandalwood, amber and a whiff of peppery leather. I am really getting a ton of black rose from this. It's the most prominent note here. So yeah, rose with hints of everything else. Great throw and wear length. Because, yanno, rose.
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[No additional description provided.] This has only been off the mail truck for about two hours, because I couldn't wait any longer. In the bottle it's pure, luscious gingerbread. When it's freshly applied, I smell like my favorite kind of gingersnap: thin and a little crispy, like a pepparkakor from Sweden. There's even a little bit of a lemony note, but that subsides as it dries. It ends up as a perfect gingerbread that I want to eat.
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During the year 1896 considerable stir was created by the investigation of Dr. Hippolyte Baraduc, of Paris, in the line of “Thought Photography,” which is of interest to psychic investigators generally. Dr. Baraduc claimed to have gotten photographic impressions of his thoughts, “made without sunlight or electricity or contact of any material kind.” These impressions he declared to be subjective, being his own personal vibrations, the result of a force emanating from the human personality, supra-mechanical, or spiritual. The experiments were carried on in a dark room, and according to his statement were highly successful. In a communication to an American correspondent, printed in the New York Herald, January 3, 1897, he writes: “I have discovered a human, invisible light, differing altogether from the cathode rays discovered by Prof. Roentgen.” Dr. Baraduc advanced the theory that our souls must be considered as centers of luminous forces, owing their existence partly to the attraction and partly to the repulsion of special and potent forces bred of the invisible cosmos. A number of French scientific journals took up the matter, and discussed “Thought Photography” at length, publishing numerous reproductions of the physician’s photographs; but the more conservative journals of England, Germany and America remained silent on the subject, as it seemed to be on the borderland [Pg 199]between science and charlatanry. On January 11, 1897, the American newspapers contained an item to the effect that Drs. S. Millington Miller and Carleton Simon, of New York City, the former a specialist in brain physiology, and the latter an expert hypnotist, had succeeded in obtaining successful thought photographs on dry plates from two hypnotized subjects. When the subjects were not hypnotized, the physicians reported no results. As “Thought Photography” is without the pale of known physical laws, stronger evidence is needed to support the claims made for it than that which has been adduced by the French and American investigators. “Thought Photography” once established as a scientific fact, we shall have, perhaps, an explanation of genuine spirit photographs, if such there be. – Hours With the Ghosts; Or XIX Century Witchcraft by Henry R. Evans Mercury-limned lavender, palo santo, and ambrette seed. First impressions from a bottle that landed this morning: I know some people associate lavender with sleep scents, old lady smells and/or medicine, and kudos for all of those things, but thought photography is a blend that shows her potential as a sophisticated note in an elegant perfume. Beautiful strong musky lavender, reminding me of bpal's 18 June 1860. Not getting much Palo Santo at this time. Big throw and great longevity.
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Red leather, chocolate, and black pepper. I get mainly red leather with whiffs of chocolate and black pepper. If you're into leather blends, give this a whirl. Medium throw and wear length.
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The second series commenced at 15, Southhampton Row, on Wednesday evening. Into the present course, the medium, Mr. Shepherd will introduce some of the more marked peculiarities of his singular performance. He sings at each concert in the soprano voice. A marked peculiarity: tonka bean and red sandalwood with orris, lemon peel, and leather. In the imp: A very light, almost powdery scent. I'm getting mainly the orris, with just a touch of leather and vague sweetness - maybe the tonka? There's a hint of a zing at the tail end, which I'm guessing is the lemon peel, although it's not identifiable as so at this stage. Wet: The orris is still dominant, although now the leather runs a close second. No zing, lemon-y or otherwise, though. No tonka or sandalwood that I can detect, alas. Dry: Tonka and sandalwood arrive to save the day! Now the orris/leather (mainly orris at this point, tbh) combo is elegant and subtle, not overwhelmingly powdery. This now smells like the dusting powder an elegant Victorian or Edwardian lady would use. Still no lemon peel that I can pick up, but perhaps that will improve with age.
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This is the scent of an awkward encounter with a Yule-evoked doppelgänger mate: spectral cologne, blurry herbs, fireplace ash, and a dusting of crumbs. Dorian Dopplegänger! Dumb Cake smells like Dorian on the other side of the looking glass. The spectral cologne note is pretty great—like a luminous Dorian. The blurry herbs and dusting of crumbs are very faint...there's just an edge of something foody here, like white cake and the barest hint of perhaps rosemary? The ash is also spectral—pure grey-white, rather than gritty, sooty black. It's fantastic, and I will enjoy every drop (and endeavor to get some on my husband, because I think this would be amazing on him).
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Blueberry-filled sufganiyot, blooping blue with jelly. GUYS. Guys. Not to sound (too) dramatic, but I've been DYING for a blueberry sufganiyot scent. I am beyond excited to get my hands on this and try it out. Wet: Very rich blueberries! Like a rich blueberry jelly or jam. There's a slight hint of a pastry note, but the blueberry jelly is pretty strong. Dry: I'm trying to think of a word that's better than "delicious" but I'm coming up short. This is an incredible, rich, blueberry jelly donut scent. While the blueberry jelly scent is still stronger than the pastry note, it's much more prevalent when the scent dries down. I had stupidly high expectations for this scent, and I'm not disappointed at all. I may need a backup bottle, which is rare for me. I've just been JAMMED. (... at Jamm Orthodontics.)
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A holiday creation of Lilith’s! Squished strawberries and gingerbread with a touch of French vanilla and mint. Sweet strawberry candy, whiff of vanilla and gingerbread. It's a ton ton ton of strawberry candy on me. For those of you that like candy blends, give this a whirl. Good throw and wear length.
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[No additional description provided.] In The Bottle: This one is sweet, rich, slightly creamy and just a hair spicy upon first sniff. The lavender is definitely present, but not at the forefront. Wet On Skin: Lavender sugar is most of what's happening here, I can't say I'm really getting the gingerbread much, but this isn't the same as the lavender sugar I experience with TKO, let's say. I think the gingerbread is softening the lavender somehow, though it's not exactly foodie, though it IS slightly sugary. Dry Down: That has, in fact, become a daytime-wearable version of TKO. I get no gingerbread (the inverse of Gingerbread, Coffebean and Smoked Vanilla- so perplexing!) just a lovely, soft sugary lavender. Very comforting, this is a scent easily work during the day and I anticipate reaching for it to mix with some similarly comforting scents, like the 2017 re-release of Antique Lace. Lovely! ❤️
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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.
