Martis Vala's Enchanted Perfumery 2019
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Heywood's Hyacinths
Heywood had somehow imagined his Mars mission differently. He had dreamed of being the hero in a breathtaking adventure, pushing the one button that would melt the ice at the poles and envelop the Red Planet in an atmosphere. Time-lapse terraforming. Created by aliens. Hollywood style. Instead, he'd been sitting in his little container for years, watching his extremities grow. Lack of gravity. No spectacular planetary panorama, just a ridiculous hatch, always the same view, sun or sandstorm. And then this pointless skyping, lost words in space, no conversation, ramshackle monologues.
Since then he talked to his plants in the greenhouse under the grow-lux lights. Little grew in this world. When he stuck his head inside, it was all bright, cool, citrusy mint. Heywood mewed its molecules over the heavy, sweetish blossoms that grew further back, somewhere among the ginger roots with which he exchanged either spicy-hot sibilants or warm words. This was always a veritable floral babel at first, green-herbaceous gibberish, but always fun.
Soon the hyacinths had usurped the conversation, breathed humid floral stores into Heywood's brain, spoke sweet stone tiles with earthy little lumps in puddles of ginger. Withered ramblings, sort of indolic. Heywood sprayed some sweet resin mist into the hyacinths now and then, listened to them, hour by hour the words grew myrrhier, mustier. Tomorrow I'll make you the mint again. Heywood had just this world.
ΒΆΒΆ Vala's Enchanted Perfumery, based in Prague, says it tries to create magic, to create images, from the plant ingredients and the creative genius of the people involved in the process. "My creations have all been born in my hands and warmed by my skin. And before that, they were a part of nature." says Moi Yggdottir. "Martis" starts furiously herbaceous-green-fresh, then develops an interesting ginger-warm floral heart note before the fragrance becomes increasingly musty-indolic. Mars projects something six to seven hours predominantly cockpit-filling.
(With thanks to Shaking)
Since then he talked to his plants in the greenhouse under the grow-lux lights. Little grew in this world. When he stuck his head inside, it was all bright, cool, citrusy mint. Heywood mewed its molecules over the heavy, sweetish blossoms that grew further back, somewhere among the ginger roots with which he exchanged either spicy-hot sibilants or warm words. This was always a veritable floral babel at first, green-herbaceous gibberish, but always fun.
Soon the hyacinths had usurped the conversation, breathed humid floral stores into Heywood's brain, spoke sweet stone tiles with earthy little lumps in puddles of ginger. Withered ramblings, sort of indolic. Heywood sprayed some sweet resin mist into the hyacinths now and then, listened to them, hour by hour the words grew myrrhier, mustier. Tomorrow I'll make you the mint again. Heywood had just this world.
ΒΆΒΆ Vala's Enchanted Perfumery, based in Prague, says it tries to create magic, to create images, from the plant ingredients and the creative genius of the people involved in the process. "My creations have all been born in my hands and warmed by my skin. And before that, they were a part of nature." says Moi Yggdottir. "Martis" starts furiously herbaceous-green-fresh, then develops an interesting ginger-warm floral heart note before the fragrance becomes increasingly musty-indolic. Mars projects something six to seven hours predominantly cockpit-filling.
(With thanks to Shaking)
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