Karíkia Angelos Créations Olfactives 2023

the dawn lay like a warming veil over nature,
as I awoke in an open field
and even before I opened my eyes, fragrant essences
draped over my face and body like a silk cloth
ripe blood oranges hang golden in the late summer sun
warming saffron dusts and envelops the fruit,
on whose skin honey-sweet drops glisten like morning dew
but the early freshness of the blood orange fades with the rise
of the sun
hazelnuts fall from the tree
bees buzz among the dry hay
ungluey natural honey sweetness drips from the tree
onto bitter dry tobacco
here no moist-dark-fermented tobacco leaves are steaming
these leaves were dried in the sun, whose warmth they still carry within
in the wooden hut at the other end of the meadow, a mother bakes sweet desserts,
in her kitchen a little incense burns
in front of the hut stands a basket with dried spices and precious woods,
whose scent the wind carries over
I daydreamed that I sprinkled a handful of dried hay and shavings of fine woods
with spices and wrapped it in a tobacco leaf,
which I sealed with honey and wax,
but I did not ignite this bundle, I only held it in the light veil
of the pastry and incense scent wafting from the hut,
to give it just a hint of smoke
like a potpourri of everything that means nature and embodies rural summer,
I carried this bundle before me and likewise its scent carried me through the day,
from morning to evening glow
indulging, daydreaming, wandering in pleasure

everything is bright and warm, the sun of this late summer casts no shadows
but the light is never too glaring, nothing is exaggerated to the point of blinding
where one might expect shadows, one would have to search for them, for it never gets cold,
everything is permeated with warm golden red
it is the pleasant sun of the afternoon late summer,
into which one, with eyes closed to enjoyment, gladly holds their face, smiling contentedly
the immediate moment between nature and spirit,
in which one lets everything be thought
and one is only sensual perception, enjoying without wanting

everything is warm, yet nothing sweats
it is dry and yet it flows, like a sweet resinous-bitter liqueur,
that drips from the sun and falls over the woods and oranges,
where it settles on tobacco leaves and hay
the drops sparkle in the sunset, yet it seems as if the sun stands there forever,
it does not want to sink until the end
the air shimmers between the tones of nature,
the chirping of birds, the buzzing of bees,
the swaying of the wind in the dry hay,
the crackling of the warmed woods,
the tobacco leaves drying in the sun

everything is in agreement, nothing envies each other

I remember the inspiration of Angelo
and yes, there is a coherent image
I see his ancestors working their daily tasks in the tobacco fields,
nestled in untouched nature, leading a simple life,
sometimes hard but content, far from urban hustle,
more devoted than self-sacrificing
I see a rural idyll that carries a sense of security,
which the scent also evokes in me
this is a summer that I like and that may live within me

an ode to the lived pure moment of past times
and in the attempt to preserve this, also a nostalgic reminder
of its transience
and only the remembering is what allows us to conjure it up again and again,
and if the conjuring formula is sometimes an elixir in a glass bottle
precious because of its exquisite ingredients,
but even more precious because of its almost alchemical abilities

fabulously realized concept, I am happy to have discovered this craft-and-soul art, it will surely not be the only scent of the house
the included sample of Tabac Libre is already on my list of next acquisitions