11/10/2020
Floyd
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Floyd
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The demon of hypnagogic illusion
Then it's dark. You sink deeper into the straw of your sleeping place, the resinous sheet in the barren bower. You breathe the scent of black chocolate, still warm and poured over fermenting fruit that someone put on your bedside table. It smelled of the smoke of the kitchen flames as you tiredly devoured it for sleep, then all the tangled cotton wool, your eyes turned to stone as the room was still spinning.
Now the smoke smoulders as if from tobacco leaves, the edges sharp green, as if from damp grasses, you feel the presence of animal beings and hallucinate flowers, fleshy and waxy, growing on green spices. Above all there is mist that bewitches the senses, the resins, the wood smoke, the chocolate liqueur. Is all this just a strange dream, or is an incubus present, a demon?
Now the damp meadows are on fire, the fruits, the blossoms, the spices are scorching, smoke swells through the room in ethereal spiciness, rain hissingly extinguishes the smouldering ashes and washes the thoughts, the vivid dreams into damp, green, burnt earth.
**
With "Incubus" Nikolay Eremin created a moving scent image that does astonishing justice to its subject matter. The demon of hypnagogic illusion, who mates with a sleeping woman at night without her noticing, initially bewitches with a strong but enormously balanced mixture of resins, bitter chocolate liqueur, tobacco and wood smoke, which is soon subordinated to slightly animal musk, a waxy fleshy tuberose and tart spices. Vetiver provides sharp contours and at the same time appears smoky and moist. After about an hour one really believes in the presence of the incubus, so ethereal do smoke and ashes, almost sulphur-like in a positive sense. The visitation fades away after about six hours in earthy tones.
(With thanks to Chizza)
Now the smoke smoulders as if from tobacco leaves, the edges sharp green, as if from damp grasses, you feel the presence of animal beings and hallucinate flowers, fleshy and waxy, growing on green spices. Above all there is mist that bewitches the senses, the resins, the wood smoke, the chocolate liqueur. Is all this just a strange dream, or is an incubus present, a demon?
Now the damp meadows are on fire, the fruits, the blossoms, the spices are scorching, smoke swells through the room in ethereal spiciness, rain hissingly extinguishes the smouldering ashes and washes the thoughts, the vivid dreams into damp, green, burnt earth.
**
With "Incubus" Nikolay Eremin created a moving scent image that does astonishing justice to its subject matter. The demon of hypnagogic illusion, who mates with a sleeping woman at night without her noticing, initially bewitches with a strong but enormously balanced mixture of resins, bitter chocolate liqueur, tobacco and wood smoke, which is soon subordinated to slightly animal musk, a waxy fleshy tuberose and tart spices. Vetiver provides sharp contours and at the same time appears smoky and moist. After about an hour one really believes in the presence of the incubus, so ethereal do smoke and ashes, almost sulphur-like in a positive sense. The visitation fades away after about six hours in earthy tones.
(With thanks to Chizza)
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