Afternoon Slant

No one wants to be left out of Fragrance Mastermind Monica Miller's events, not even a reclusive perfumer like me. So when she asked if i would like to join her Primordial Scents Salon 2012, I felt that tingling sensation one feels at the tap of a magic wand. She even gave us p l e n t y of  lead time which made my head nod in large approval; aging being one of the finest ingredients a perfumer has.

So! I gathered around 6 chairs and invited Air, Water, Fire, Metal, Earth to sit with me & we proceeded to give each other....blank stares. For a whole month. And then another. And another....nervous tension seeped into my belly.

I decided to shelve the gang and moved on to other activities; such as piddling. Piddling has come to my rescue many times over, especially if i forget what i'm piddling about. One day as i opened the lid to my Pawpaw tincture, which is straight up Butterscotch, thick as molten syrup, i felt a gentle touch on my shoulder from an illuminating ray of sun. Ah. Yes. Liquid Sunshine.  Bingo.

A word on notes; I cannot give you the hard and the fast. A perfume is so much more than a list. How do you measure the hope, excitement, abandon and care that surround each drop as it falls from the dropper? Not to mention the distinct 'fingerprint' each perfumer has. And that allure thing; it's made up mostly of mystery. I create and set to flight. I leave it to others to pin down

"Afternoon Slant" 

by dabney rose

limited edition perfume blended w/ organic grape alcohol 

photo credits

1. jocelynkw

2. 0 dear & not mine

3. Spiritweb

a rose is a Rose is a rose

There are varying percentages of me that subscribe to the belief that before we incarnate into this present physical life, we choose some of the pertinent  particulars of our lives. ( like shopping? : ) ) (no no no,  more like life's lessons and expressions) Our names, close family members, handicaps, etc.
 All through my life people have been impressed by my name; " 0 what a great/beautiful name you have; blah blah blah" whereas to me it has felt quite oversized; as if i weren't enough of something for it. Only now, poised halfway between 50 & 60 do i feel like we are starting to fit each other... i have risen to my Rose.

I have had help. In the form of a rose. This is a rose i found growing in a tangled patch close to our house in Woodfin NC, which brushes up against the back side of Asheville. As i had recently given birth to my daughter Rose ( yes i know this thickens the plot) i was, into roses.. and this one even smelled nice! And see, at this point i was already a budding student of Aromatherapy. So i waded in, got scratched & dug up a clump to take home.
 That was 25 years ago and pieces of  'this rose' have followed me to 2 other houses locally, a move to Arkansas, back to NC, back to Ark, back to NC. One day on a curiosity drive i wanted to see if this original patch still existed as this is my rose of choice for distillation and having more plants would enable me to meet demand. I have distilled many variations on the rose theme; from doing different species to co-distilling it with raspberries and Agarwood but this one continually rises to 'most fav.' And of course the patch had been paved over.

But the story does continue. A couple of years ago a dear friend of mine said she had a rose that looked like the rose pictured on my website. She too had dug this rose in Woodfin, albeit along a different road. Would i like some of it? We waited some months for an optimal time of year to visit and dig. Got scratched and literally filled the van with a dozen more rose plants.

I don't know her name and have never been able to get her IDed and i'm only guessing when i call her a Centifolia, but our story isn't finished yet.

Michael Woods for Dabney Rose

permeating the heavens

Each spring brings a series of  'waves of fragrance' sweeping over the land. A 'wave' is what i call the experience of standing on my doorstep (or driving down the road) and smelling a mass bloom, sight unseen. To think of the number of zillions & sillions & nillions of blossoms it takes to saturate the atmosphere for miles upon miles, truly humbles me to the power of the flower.  If a satellite could be fitted with a special type of lens that could see scent, i bet the images would be sensational.

I have been aware of the major waves since childhood and i hope everyone has lived where Honeysuckle has rolled over them. Different parts of the country/world are going to have their own bio-regional waves; i keep hearing reports of the Jasmine in the deep south. Indeed, it has been just this phenomenon that has lodged Olde Charleston forever into the romantic sector of my heart, from summer trips during collage.

Here in NC the season starts with Winter Honeysuckle's classical 'floral', sometimes as early as January. (with a minor wave of Mahonia, in a good year.)  There is a pause, an in-breath as it were, and then the exhaling of musky vanilla through the Russian Olive shrubs. (Keep in mind all these are "invasive" plant species..which sounds like someone unwanted!) There are several waves of Wisteria, the bloom time depending on the species; here on this farm we have 2 kinds! : ) Straight up musk. Matters become serious with the heavy-weights of Multiflora Rose leading into Honeysuckle that lands us at the front door of summer. In the fall a second Russian Olive, more civilized (actually also sold in garden centers) echos spring's delight.

What can take things over the top is when 2 waves overlap each other; right now the Black Locust trees are dangling its dazzling white blossoms and the Wild Hedge Roses are starting to explode over hill & dale. Up the eastern seaboard like a tide.

Yeh, Spring makes me quite heady as just about every day, seemingly for weeks without end, i step outside and check the 'ambient scent'.

how romantic of me

to grow a tree of living lace outside my bedroom window!

no i didn't make it up; it's the Chionanthus virginicus,  but Fringe Tree is easier to remember & pronounce!

it's actually a native tree of our eastern woodlands & i have been lucky enough to find a few growing in their favorite haunts. 

it shimmers in the sunlight & glows in the moonlight.  i have this fantasy about being woken up one night by the fragrance sliding in my window on a moonbeam.  hearing laughter, i'll look out & see lightning bugs frolicking among its flowers & elves sitting on the slim branches; dangling their feet & clapping their hands.  except, it blooms in april & lightning bugs don't come out until, what, the heat of june? 

 remind me next march to look for the christmas lights!