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Notes04/30/2020
Floyd
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Floyd
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The tree, the buoy in the balsam lake
Sharp black veils of aniseed, softly very softly, crawl through the clammy blade into the hollow of the forest, lie down on cedar needles, softly very softly, disguise themselves ethereally bathing to dark green glowing resins.
As your mind gets used to the place, the colours, the lack of sunlight, you notice a two hundred year old fir tree on the ground in the middle of the hollow. The balsamic-scented resin bleeds into the conifer-like, liquorice blackness. Do you see a fleeting rose curling up on its bark, as if it were to suspect that a lake is swelling sluggishly in the hollow, filled with shining balsamic blood, in which forest soil needle mass swells, benzoin bubbles as in a moor with softly glowing amber? This is the balsam fir, the tree that marks the middle as a buoy and ligates the green glowing syrup with ethereal for two to three hours Then suddenly everything is almond resins and musk marzipan, tangerines mix into the mass, the forest disappears spontaneously. No needles, fog, resins, no moon in the sky, not even stars, for further hours close to the skin only tangerine marzipan squirrels remain.
**
Treebuoy is one of two perfume oils in the January Scent Project's range. Unfortunately, the furious prelude and the ethereal green-resinous episode lasting about two to three hours are followed by a rather uninspired fruity-sweet-resinous drydown of similar length. Overall Treeboy is very reserved and quiet, which is neither unusual nor undesirable for American oils of this kind. A quiet journey, a silent lake, a balsamic tree, a buoy.
(With thanks to Gschpusi)
As your mind gets used to the place, the colours, the lack of sunlight, you notice a two hundred year old fir tree on the ground in the middle of the hollow. The balsamic-scented resin bleeds into the conifer-like, liquorice blackness. Do you see a fleeting rose curling up on its bark, as if it were to suspect that a lake is swelling sluggishly in the hollow, filled with shining balsamic blood, in which forest soil needle mass swells, benzoin bubbles as in a moor with softly glowing amber? This is the balsam fir, the tree that marks the middle as a buoy and ligates the green glowing syrup with ethereal for two to three hours Then suddenly everything is almond resins and musk marzipan, tangerines mix into the mass, the forest disappears spontaneously. No needles, fog, resins, no moon in the sky, not even stars, for further hours close to the skin only tangerine marzipan squirrels remain.
**
Treebuoy is one of two perfume oils in the January Scent Project's range. Unfortunately, the furious prelude and the ethereal green-resinous episode lasting about two to three hours are followed by a rather uninspired fruity-sweet-resinous drydown of similar length. Overall Treeboy is very reserved and quiet, which is neither unusual nor undesirable for American oils of this kind. A quiet journey, a silent lake, a balsamic tree, a buoy.
(With thanks to Gschpusi)
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