Feuille Miskeo 2023

Moving on your knees through meadows, weeds, underbrush, and the earth saturated from the last rain... perhaps one does this sometimes. Not to search for something, but just like that. To look. To discover new worlds in the small, to trace a childhood memory. Observing is, after all, beautiful.
And here you get close to the essence, because it doesn’t smell nice here. It smells real. Of botany, of life.
The little excursion with Feuille begins as if you had rubbed your skin on green peppers and tomato bushes, as if plant sap were seeping through your pores. This is followed by a bitter flicker on the tongue, like freshly crushed stems between your fingers. Something sharp, green, alive. No flower, no fruit. More like leaf. Tendril. Chlorophyll. Herb dust and shadow.
The scent is like a bold leap into the thicket. Untamed, cool, bitter. Earthy. Dry. Naturalistic to the point of irritation. And yet there is a softness, an ethereal shimmer that weaves an almost corporeal veil from the botanical.
And so you are carried... deep into the dark green, to the wild foliage, which you can listen to.