[²He] Helium One of those 2012

"Oh dear!" I thought, oh dear.
Gray, crumbly "tear-me-apart" packaging, at first glance not unlike some soil sample that the man beside me spends his day analyzing.
Beneath it, clear, slender, unembellished flacons, marked with abbreviations and symbols that beam me thirty years back into the always strangely oppressive, sharply smelling chemistry lab, where a dusty gray little man busied himself and soon forgot us students.
Somewhere in the background hung the periodic table of elements, nicely red, blue, and yellow, which always remained a mystery to me.
And whose existence faded with my school graduation - at least almost.
Now it catches up with me again, the so un-sensual, strict construct of natural science - of all things, me, the science refugee, at a symbol of sensuality that is unparalleled.
Perfume according to Mendeleev.
Oh dear.
Could this go well?

Helium has the atomic number 2 in the periodic table and is considered the second lightest element after hydrogen.
A noble gas, fragile and fleeting.
So it would be, the scent that bore this name, I thought - delicate and fine and gone with a single breath.
I thought, willfully ignoring contradictory pyramids and ingredients.
A lightweight - quickly grasped, quickly described.
That was a week ago.
Since then I have worn "Helium," day after day, in sun and rain, in cold and warmth, silently so far and in awe of the potency and richness of facets of a scent that deserves many accolades, but certainly not that of triviality.

After a bright, slightly anise-like opening, "Helium" begins a transformation that takes a different path each day, heading in another direction, yet without causing confusion and unrest, for wherever it may go, the common thread is always there.
Ozone, metal, and mineral accords, ethereally woven with warm skin, late summer sun on dusty grain, amber-golden light.
Wild honey, restrained and fine, not sticky, dark, thick.
Guerlain's vanilla, tropical, velvety, dense, yet not sweet, not sultry, not heavy.
Light, airy warmth, tightly woven, dark golden fine fabric.
Dry cinnamon, smoky, almost bitter, bark-brown, hardly related to rice pudding and "Big Red."
Memories of "Tabac," the scent of my childhood, of uncles, grandpas, and officials, which I liked yet also did not.
Sun on my skin, "Tabac" in my aura, cinnamon and tobacco, subtle sweetness.
The next day brings cold, brings rain, brings smoky gray-green and soft musk, delicate and fine and close to the skin.
Always quiet yet perceptible, calm serenity and friendly style.

Floating veils, shifting from cream and gold to amber and terracotta to deepest brown and foggy gray-green.
Masculine, feminine, human, sensual.
Not cold at all, not hard, no rejection, no denial.
Perfume according to Mendeleev.
Can this go well?
Oh yes.
Oh yes!

PS: Inspired by Ergoproxy: Thank you, dear universe!