Louka
Reviews
Filter & Sort
Detailed
Translated · Show original
casual floral theater delight
I’m sitting on one of those uncomfortable café chairs at the table you reserved for us, right in the middle of the marketplace, and just as I’m being handed the menu, I see you rushing towards me.
*it’s about time, sweetheart!*
In soft goat leather black pants (which I’ll later confirm are indeed soft), paired with a cream-colored linen shirt, barefoot, and wearing a colorful pork pie hat.
*Nice, I just love his style, I think I can forgive him for making me wait.*
Then you’re in front of me, standing tall, taking my hand and making me rise.
*Whoa? What’s happening now?*
A first scent impression from you wafts towards me with the breeze you bring along.
*Seriously? He shows up to the date with a sweet fruit-rum chewing gum? Quite bold!*
Then you perform a theatrical bow in front of me, still holding my hand. “My dear, what a pleasure to see you! I’m intoxicated with joy for the afternoon with you! Will you forgive my little tardiness?”
*Sweet, he can be old school too. And gallant. Like.*
My inner self waves at you with a delighted grin, and the psychodramatist in me immediately engages with your scene: I nod and hope it comes across as something between gracious, self-assured, and amused.
You reach with your free hand - you still haven’t let go of mine! - to your hat and take the small bouquet you had tucked into the hatband. You take a step closer to me and now you’re standing pretty close. And you offer me the flowers: “May I present you with this little floral greeting as a sign of my affection?” A fine, creamy jasmine scent reaches me, and behind it, I think I can smell the scent of your slightly sweaty skin.
My neurodivergent brain is firing on all cylinders:
*Whoa, how can this beautiful little jasmine bouquet on his hat hold so well? So lovely! Hey, I’m not even bothered that he’s holding my hand for so long, wow! Mhm, what else is that wafting towards my nose? Rough somehow, maybe the leather of his pants? Hey, they’re not even black but a super beautiful espresso dark brown. I wonder how they feel? Oh yes, I’m craving that delicious espresso they have here, decolonized thankfully. I mustn’t forget to ask him about the chewing gum brand, it smells really nice too! He’s really putting in the effort, bless him. But how does he know I’m into a bit of old school? Did I tell him that before, or what? Oh, I definitely need to tell him not to give me cut flowers anymore, I hate watching them slowly die in the vase. But whatever, I’m happy anyway, and just the gesture is nice.*
I accept the bouquet with a smiling “thank you” and a hint of a curtsy.
*Help, what are you doing??! A curtsy??! And tilting your head while doing it!! My goodness, behavioral biology sends its regards.*
“Shall we sit?” I nod, sit down, and look forward to a fun and casual afternoon with you.
**
Well, if a scent pours into a scene while I’m standing still, then I just have to write it down.
Lawrence actually opens with a delicious note of sweet, fruity, rum-soaked chewing gum. Soon, it is accompanied by lovely jasmine blossoms, creamy-soft, slightly sweet, and yet fresh. At some point, it also becomes pleasantly spicy, and oud makes an appearance as well. Until then, I find the scent really quite nice, amusing in a way, despite its synthetic quality, which in my nose mashes all the notes together rather than connecting them. But then that type of musk comes in that makes a scent uninteresting by making everything somehow creamy (up to being greasy on my skin) and arbitrary.
Anyway.
Thank you for these truly delightful, exploratory, and refreshing hours with you, dear Lawrence!
*it’s about time, sweetheart!*
In soft goat leather black pants (which I’ll later confirm are indeed soft), paired with a cream-colored linen shirt, barefoot, and wearing a colorful pork pie hat.
*Nice, I just love his style, I think I can forgive him for making me wait.*
Then you’re in front of me, standing tall, taking my hand and making me rise.
*Whoa? What’s happening now?*
A first scent impression from you wafts towards me with the breeze you bring along.
*Seriously? He shows up to the date with a sweet fruit-rum chewing gum? Quite bold!*
Then you perform a theatrical bow in front of me, still holding my hand. “My dear, what a pleasure to see you! I’m intoxicated with joy for the afternoon with you! Will you forgive my little tardiness?”
*Sweet, he can be old school too. And gallant. Like.*
My inner self waves at you with a delighted grin, and the psychodramatist in me immediately engages with your scene: I nod and hope it comes across as something between gracious, self-assured, and amused.
You reach with your free hand - you still haven’t let go of mine! - to your hat and take the small bouquet you had tucked into the hatband. You take a step closer to me and now you’re standing pretty close. And you offer me the flowers: “May I present you with this little floral greeting as a sign of my affection?” A fine, creamy jasmine scent reaches me, and behind it, I think I can smell the scent of your slightly sweaty skin.
My neurodivergent brain is firing on all cylinders:
*Whoa, how can this beautiful little jasmine bouquet on his hat hold so well? So lovely! Hey, I’m not even bothered that he’s holding my hand for so long, wow! Mhm, what else is that wafting towards my nose? Rough somehow, maybe the leather of his pants? Hey, they’re not even black but a super beautiful espresso dark brown. I wonder how they feel? Oh yes, I’m craving that delicious espresso they have here, decolonized thankfully. I mustn’t forget to ask him about the chewing gum brand, it smells really nice too! He’s really putting in the effort, bless him. But how does he know I’m into a bit of old school? Did I tell him that before, or what? Oh, I definitely need to tell him not to give me cut flowers anymore, I hate watching them slowly die in the vase. But whatever, I’m happy anyway, and just the gesture is nice.*
I accept the bouquet with a smiling “thank you” and a hint of a curtsy.
*Help, what are you doing??! A curtsy??! And tilting your head while doing it!! My goodness, behavioral biology sends its regards.*
“Shall we sit?” I nod, sit down, and look forward to a fun and casual afternoon with you.
**
Well, if a scent pours into a scene while I’m standing still, then I just have to write it down.
Lawrence actually opens with a delicious note of sweet, fruity, rum-soaked chewing gum. Soon, it is accompanied by lovely jasmine blossoms, creamy-soft, slightly sweet, and yet fresh. At some point, it also becomes pleasantly spicy, and oud makes an appearance as well. Until then, I find the scent really quite nice, amusing in a way, despite its synthetic quality, which in my nose mashes all the notes together rather than connecting them. But then that type of musk comes in that makes a scent uninteresting by making everything somehow creamy (up to being greasy on my skin) and arbitrary.
Anyway.
Thank you for these truly delightful, exploratory, and refreshing hours with you, dear Lawrence!
8 Comments
Translated · Show original
heart home
she steps out of her car, 5 hours of driving behind her, and takes a deep breath of the air on this sunny, still warm October day. she has arrived. her heart breathes free and light and wide, a joyful smile rests on her lips and tears of deeply felt joy and gratitude shimmer in her eyes. how she has longed for this! for her heart home, the Palatinate along the southern wine route, between Edenkoben and the French border.
here she has lived well and loved intoxicatingly for one and a half decades - life, the women, the people here and their open-mindedness, and the enchanting scent of the land.
she breathes in and out deeply and enjoys.
here at one of her favorite spots, she absorbs the view into the vastness of the land, she can see all the way to the Rhine plain, which spills like a sea over the gently fading hills before her, interrupted by nut trees, orchards, blackberry hedges, and long tree-lined vineyards, and at her back, she feels the bright, friendly forest of the Palatinate uplands, which stretches far to the west and north and houses a multitude of rock formations made of sandstone as well as castle ruins from times gone by.
like a lover, she inhales this typical scent of early autumn after the still summer-dry red earth, the omnipresent aroma of must, pressed grapes, and good wine, the chestnut forests marked by dryness that are already giving away their first delicious fruits.
the light wind plays with the smoothly flowing, abstractly floral fabric of her dress, a cozy hoodie and her heavy leather boots provide her body with the warmth that prevents it from shivering.
she will spend the evening with a wine tasting in the cozy, dark walls of a bio-winery nearby, with lovingly prepared food and warm-hearted, attentive people.
and for the night, she will return here. breathe, love, be.
**
burgundy oud lets me revel in exactly this happiness.
what a scent! if it were a wine, it would be a deep dark red Pinot Noir from the Palatinate, aged in a barrique barrel. powerful, rough, spicy, tannin-rich, with a dry-woody texture yet with a light-footed elegance and wonderfully berry-sparkling youthfulness.
burgundy oud is urban and equally at home in the countryside. it is stylish yet elegant and at the same time pragmatic-robust. as sophisticated as it is deeply rooted in the earth. juicy berries, spicy dark wood, and dried sandstone earth.
on my skin, an incredibly beautiful combination unfolds of black currant - so authentic that I can feel the dry, astringent sensation on my tongue - fresh, lightly spicy cardamom, and a bitter-citrusy bergamot, which contributes its prickly texture and acidity, reminding me of the aromas of pressed grapes.
I do not highlight the flowers as separate notes; they complement this sensual fruit fireworks with a velvety, quiet friendliness, neither sweet nor creamy, but dry and soft.
and then unfolds what was already hinted at in the opening: a rough, dark-leathery oud. like wooden beams in a cellar vault or the planks of an ancient ship, which have become darker, heavier, and nobler over decades. the oud shows all its strength on me and yet is never too much, which is truly a feat. and thanks to the ever-present, changing balance with the softened fruit note and a bright-aromatic lightness.
like several other fragrances from this house - whether I like to wear them or not - burgundy oud simply blows me away with its authentic, naturally appearing, and incredibly finely tuned composition. breathe, love, be.
here she has lived well and loved intoxicatingly for one and a half decades - life, the women, the people here and their open-mindedness, and the enchanting scent of the land.
she breathes in and out deeply and enjoys.
here at one of her favorite spots, she absorbs the view into the vastness of the land, she can see all the way to the Rhine plain, which spills like a sea over the gently fading hills before her, interrupted by nut trees, orchards, blackberry hedges, and long tree-lined vineyards, and at her back, she feels the bright, friendly forest of the Palatinate uplands, which stretches far to the west and north and houses a multitude of rock formations made of sandstone as well as castle ruins from times gone by.
like a lover, she inhales this typical scent of early autumn after the still summer-dry red earth, the omnipresent aroma of must, pressed grapes, and good wine, the chestnut forests marked by dryness that are already giving away their first delicious fruits.
the light wind plays with the smoothly flowing, abstractly floral fabric of her dress, a cozy hoodie and her heavy leather boots provide her body with the warmth that prevents it from shivering.
she will spend the evening with a wine tasting in the cozy, dark walls of a bio-winery nearby, with lovingly prepared food and warm-hearted, attentive people.
and for the night, she will return here. breathe, love, be.
**
burgundy oud lets me revel in exactly this happiness.
what a scent! if it were a wine, it would be a deep dark red Pinot Noir from the Palatinate, aged in a barrique barrel. powerful, rough, spicy, tannin-rich, with a dry-woody texture yet with a light-footed elegance and wonderfully berry-sparkling youthfulness.
burgundy oud is urban and equally at home in the countryside. it is stylish yet elegant and at the same time pragmatic-robust. as sophisticated as it is deeply rooted in the earth. juicy berries, spicy dark wood, and dried sandstone earth.
on my skin, an incredibly beautiful combination unfolds of black currant - so authentic that I can feel the dry, astringent sensation on my tongue - fresh, lightly spicy cardamom, and a bitter-citrusy bergamot, which contributes its prickly texture and acidity, reminding me of the aromas of pressed grapes.
I do not highlight the flowers as separate notes; they complement this sensual fruit fireworks with a velvety, quiet friendliness, neither sweet nor creamy, but dry and soft.
and then unfolds what was already hinted at in the opening: a rough, dark-leathery oud. like wooden beams in a cellar vault or the planks of an ancient ship, which have become darker, heavier, and nobler over decades. the oud shows all its strength on me and yet is never too much, which is truly a feat. and thanks to the ever-present, changing balance with the softened fruit note and a bright-aromatic lightness.
like several other fragrances from this house - whether I like to wear them or not - burgundy oud simply blows me away with its authentic, naturally appearing, and incredibly finely tuned composition. breathe, love, be.
4 Comments
Translated · Show original
Life is not a pony farm. Or: No healing without poison.
Her watchful eyes observe you, perceiving every movement of your body and soul. She waits. Gives you the time you need to decide.
Her words swirl - like the clouds of dark resins she has burned to greet you - in a wild dance through your brain, nothing makes sense anymore.
"Journey to the other world… connection with your ancestors… the earth… this will not be a walk in the park… they are already waiting for you… no one knows what you will encounter… I will accompany you and hold the space…"
Your well-trained mind in our supposedly civilized world steps out. There is nothing left for someone like him to do here.
On a completely different level, you feel a deep understanding. No longer are her words important, no logic. Instead, an intuitive, atmospheric grasp spreads within you, a cautiously probing, diffuse yet irreversible recognition, a fearful yet comforting sinking into the deep truth of her words, her wisdom, her presence.
Everything is exactly right. True. Here and now.
You look up, surface from your little decision-making trance, and turn towards her. Her face smiles lovingly at you, her dark eyes, her cheeks, each of her deep wrinkles welcomes you.
"Do you have any questions before we begin?"
You think: yes, hundreds.
You hear yourself say: "No. I am ready."
**
Where our journeys lead us in life… sometimes to a previously unnoticed little perfumery in the small town you trust, which turns out to be a gem of selected niche fragrances. The owner has loved her work for 40 years and holds an Andreoli under my nose.
The shaman's poison, what a beautiful and demanding scent!
It opens for me with the most beautiful saffron-warm, dark-sweet dried fruits, which - fortunately or unfortunately? Who knows… - are soon permeated by equally dark tobacco and slightly sweetened. Just a little.
And then the individual notes elude my perception. Smoke, leather, spices, resins, no idea what all this is. Warm, sweet, rough, and smoky is the scent on my skin.
A cozy, secure feeling arises within me. And yes, gradually I begin to understand why Andreoli locates his creation in the shamanic field. It is this feeling of "I am right here, I am safe and held. Home." However, entirely without a superficial façade of a healing world. Here it gets to the heart of the matter, down to the marrow of your bones. Carried in love and unyielding. This is the gift that is offered to you. Here you can meet yourself, without filters, no avoiding possible. Without the journey through the depths of your darkness, you cannot know who you truly are. And yes: no one said it would be easy or fun. Certainly not. But at the beginning and at the end (and in between) everything is love in the shamanic.
These two facets are also present in Venom:
It is demanding, requiring attention with its smoky, dark-spicy heavy leather on my skin. There is no casual, light flow possible. Not even when the scent becomes quieter. Again and again, it takes up space, pushing into my consciousness.
And then there are the sweet, warm dried fruits at the beginning, which are lightly dusted with vanilla warmth as the scent develops and accompany the skin as a tender, cozy memory in the dry down.
Everything just to my taste :)
Her words swirl - like the clouds of dark resins she has burned to greet you - in a wild dance through your brain, nothing makes sense anymore.
"Journey to the other world… connection with your ancestors… the earth… this will not be a walk in the park… they are already waiting for you… no one knows what you will encounter… I will accompany you and hold the space…"
Your well-trained mind in our supposedly civilized world steps out. There is nothing left for someone like him to do here.
On a completely different level, you feel a deep understanding. No longer are her words important, no logic. Instead, an intuitive, atmospheric grasp spreads within you, a cautiously probing, diffuse yet irreversible recognition, a fearful yet comforting sinking into the deep truth of her words, her wisdom, her presence.
Everything is exactly right. True. Here and now.
You look up, surface from your little decision-making trance, and turn towards her. Her face smiles lovingly at you, her dark eyes, her cheeks, each of her deep wrinkles welcomes you.
"Do you have any questions before we begin?"
You think: yes, hundreds.
You hear yourself say: "No. I am ready."
**
Where our journeys lead us in life… sometimes to a previously unnoticed little perfumery in the small town you trust, which turns out to be a gem of selected niche fragrances. The owner has loved her work for 40 years and holds an Andreoli under my nose.
The shaman's poison, what a beautiful and demanding scent!
It opens for me with the most beautiful saffron-warm, dark-sweet dried fruits, which - fortunately or unfortunately? Who knows… - are soon permeated by equally dark tobacco and slightly sweetened. Just a little.
And then the individual notes elude my perception. Smoke, leather, spices, resins, no idea what all this is. Warm, sweet, rough, and smoky is the scent on my skin.
A cozy, secure feeling arises within me. And yes, gradually I begin to understand why Andreoli locates his creation in the shamanic field. It is this feeling of "I am right here, I am safe and held. Home." However, entirely without a superficial façade of a healing world. Here it gets to the heart of the matter, down to the marrow of your bones. Carried in love and unyielding. This is the gift that is offered to you. Here you can meet yourself, without filters, no avoiding possible. Without the journey through the depths of your darkness, you cannot know who you truly are. And yes: no one said it would be easy or fun. Certainly not. But at the beginning and at the end (and in between) everything is love in the shamanic.
These two facets are also present in Venom:
It is demanding, requiring attention with its smoky, dark-spicy heavy leather on my skin. There is no casual, light flow possible. Not even when the scent becomes quieter. Again and again, it takes up space, pushing into my consciousness.
And then there are the sweet, warm dried fruits at the beginning, which are lightly dusted with vanilla warmth as the scent develops and accompany the skin as a tender, cozy memory in the dry down.
Everything just to my taste :)
10 Comments
Translated · Show original
good morning starshine!
scene 1:
early morning, it’s gradually getting light. woman, 53, is lounging - with a cat snuggled on her belly - in her favorite armchair, which, like her, has seen better days, and is drinking her morning four-seasons oolong tea.
her perimenopausal battered body-soul-spirit unit is struggling.
her hips hurt, her back is a bit sore, her whole body feels infinitely heavy and the strength of her 40s seems to have melted away. the 5th heat wave of the day is rolling in with full force.
(she throws off the cozy blanket, opens the zipper of her hoodie as far as the still-sleeping cat body allows, grabs her "dia de los muertos" fan and waves it as much as her wrist allows)
her brain is working in slow motion, her mind is dizzy and correspondingly her vision is always a bit blurry. emotionally, she has been fluctuating for years between desperate-overwhelmed-tear-soaked towel throwing, fits of rage with a f*cking raging f*cking fury at everything that sounds like f*cking patriarchal bs (which is a lot. very, very much!), and an unprecedented self-love, accompanied by deep inner peace and a wondrous joy in this deep transformation process that we here massively underestimate as "menopause." this morning, she is leaning towards the towel solution.
scene 2:
the cat leaves her human woman's lap for a second breakfast. she gets up and rummages through her perfume sample box for follow, which has come to her from a gloomy sky. she sprays 2x on her hand.
scene 3:
good morning starshine
the earth says hello
you twinkle above us
we twinkle below
good morning starshine
you lead us along
my love and me as we sing
our early mornin’ singin’ song
gliddy-glub-gloopy, nibby-nabby-noopy,
la-la-la, lo-lo,
sabba-sibby-sabba, nooby-aba-naba,
lee-lee, lo-lo,
tooby-ooby-wala, nooby-aba-naba
early mornin’ singin’ song
(text: galt macdermot et al., album: hair, soundtrack to the film, 1979
here to listen: https://youtu.be/nmZqb2VVc48?si=LAM-BHieZDRLy3nP)
the song from the musical film hair - the film that saved her through her youth - makes the sun of Nevada audibly illuminate the entire hall for the audience. she sings along joyfully at the top of her lungs.
**
another scent that hasn’t let me go since our first date. the time seems ripe now :)
i like john pegg's story and attitude and i have liked several of his creations, but none in a way that I wanted to wear (r'oud elements: i love incense sticks, but I am not one. broken theories: delicious campfire. santalum slivers: beautifully stunning - better on a man. summer of 84: love the melon and the sea salt. tbc.).
so now follow. the scent starts for me like this: bam! freshly opened espresso can. powerful-dark-heavy espresso, dry-dry-dry, darkest black-brown, deep, dark, heavy.
a bit of vanilla-tonka-benzoin-amber fluff quietly and pleasantly flanks this dark weight, eventually a little smoky hint emerges. that’s it.
if deep-dark-black espresso brown makes you happy, then that’s follow. #mademyday
glibby-glubby-glooby!
early morning, it’s gradually getting light. woman, 53, is lounging - with a cat snuggled on her belly - in her favorite armchair, which, like her, has seen better days, and is drinking her morning four-seasons oolong tea.
her perimenopausal battered body-soul-spirit unit is struggling.
her hips hurt, her back is a bit sore, her whole body feels infinitely heavy and the strength of her 40s seems to have melted away. the 5th heat wave of the day is rolling in with full force.
(she throws off the cozy blanket, opens the zipper of her hoodie as far as the still-sleeping cat body allows, grabs her "dia de los muertos" fan and waves it as much as her wrist allows)
her brain is working in slow motion, her mind is dizzy and correspondingly her vision is always a bit blurry. emotionally, she has been fluctuating for years between desperate-overwhelmed-tear-soaked towel throwing, fits of rage with a f*cking raging f*cking fury at everything that sounds like f*cking patriarchal bs (which is a lot. very, very much!), and an unprecedented self-love, accompanied by deep inner peace and a wondrous joy in this deep transformation process that we here massively underestimate as "menopause." this morning, she is leaning towards the towel solution.
scene 2:
the cat leaves her human woman's lap for a second breakfast. she gets up and rummages through her perfume sample box for follow, which has come to her from a gloomy sky. she sprays 2x on her hand.
scene 3:
good morning starshine
the earth says hello
you twinkle above us
we twinkle below
good morning starshine
you lead us along
my love and me as we sing
our early mornin’ singin’ song
gliddy-glub-gloopy, nibby-nabby-noopy,
la-la-la, lo-lo,
sabba-sibby-sabba, nooby-aba-naba,
lee-lee, lo-lo,
tooby-ooby-wala, nooby-aba-naba
early mornin’ singin’ song
(text: galt macdermot et al., album: hair, soundtrack to the film, 1979
here to listen: https://youtu.be/nmZqb2VVc48?si=LAM-BHieZDRLy3nP)
the song from the musical film hair - the film that saved her through her youth - makes the sun of Nevada audibly illuminate the entire hall for the audience. she sings along joyfully at the top of her lungs.
**
another scent that hasn’t let me go since our first date. the time seems ripe now :)
i like john pegg's story and attitude and i have liked several of his creations, but none in a way that I wanted to wear (r'oud elements: i love incense sticks, but I am not one. broken theories: delicious campfire. santalum slivers: beautifully stunning - better on a man. summer of 84: love the melon and the sea salt. tbc.).
so now follow. the scent starts for me like this: bam! freshly opened espresso can. powerful-dark-heavy espresso, dry-dry-dry, darkest black-brown, deep, dark, heavy.
a bit of vanilla-tonka-benzoin-amber fluff quietly and pleasantly flanks this dark weight, eventually a little smoky hint emerges. that’s it.
if deep-dark-black espresso brown makes you happy, then that’s follow. #mademyday
glibby-glubby-glooby!
10 Comments
Translated · Show original
celebrating the beauty of all life.
you sit on the ground, dry, stony earth beneath you, surrounded by gnarled cedars and ancient argan trees. a small orange grove nestles together with a breezy palm garden into the hills where the castle-like estate has rested since ancient times.
you are dressed only in a loose tunic, its light, well-worn linen fabric tenderly caressing your still-sleep-warm skin in the cool air of the early morning.
the delicious taste of the dry, spicy desert and a fine, indefinable sweetness fill the clear air. insects bustle about, bees perform their life-giving work, tirelessly collecting pollen. the morning is wonderfully fresh and still.
a lizard crouches half-hidden under a stone. it is still too cold for it to move.
you wrap your hands around your cup and enjoy the warmth and the cozy enveloping aromas of the tea. rough tobacco with a hint of vanilla - the result of traditional craftsmanship - merges with the comforting, deep sweetness of the acacia honey you have added.
the power of the sun and the bustle that awakening human life will bring can already be sensed. it won’t be long before you retreat into the cool clay walls of the castle, into the half-darkness. protected from glaring bright light and the noise of people, you will spend the day in this cozy oasis of calm.
in the evening, you will be outside again, sitting by the fire, with music and the finest, lovingly prepared food and that very special feeling of smoothly flowing lightness and grounding fullness that you only experience so intensely in this place. you will celebrate the beauty. the beauty of the land that surrounds you. your own inner and outer beauty. and that of all life.
**
what a beautiful surprise!
a few years ago, kasbah was unbearably loud and sweet to me. and now I want to wrap myself in the scent, perfuming every inch of my skin with it.
this 19-69 refuge begins its journey with a bang: it hits me with the full energy of zesty-spicy, honey-sweet life, sometimes capturing marzipan, sometimes vanilla or cinnamon, sometimes a little citrusy booziness. very soon, the scent becomes calmer. the wood comes into play, providing a saving, spicy dryness. additionally, a feeling of bright tobacco together with patchouli underpins the sweet power of the honey with a pleasantly rough and slightly smoky sensation.
this mix remains with me until the dry down, in variable proportions.
yes, the honey is the centerpiece of this castle. however, it never becomes sticky sweet, which is very remarkable. otherwise, I would be out. for me, it is a bright, light acacia honey that flows so thin and weightlessly that it leaves no traces on the surface, only a delicate brightness. (my funny brain is just inventing silicone honey… well, we get along just fine, thanks for asking)
the geranium is pleasantly quiet for me. four years ago, I only noted about the scent: “help, the geranium!” I love the surprises that life has to offer. most of them, anyway.
besides the honey, tonka is always present along with the smoky, dry-earthy patch-guaiac-sandalwood trio.
this makes the scent what it is for me: super wearable, non-gourmand, unisex, neither complicated nor complex (which can be nice too). moreover, wonderfully encompassing, warming, protective, yet permeable and cheerfully light. a kind of good-mood oriental.
a feast for beauty.
you are dressed only in a loose tunic, its light, well-worn linen fabric tenderly caressing your still-sleep-warm skin in the cool air of the early morning.
the delicious taste of the dry, spicy desert and a fine, indefinable sweetness fill the clear air. insects bustle about, bees perform their life-giving work, tirelessly collecting pollen. the morning is wonderfully fresh and still.
a lizard crouches half-hidden under a stone. it is still too cold for it to move.
you wrap your hands around your cup and enjoy the warmth and the cozy enveloping aromas of the tea. rough tobacco with a hint of vanilla - the result of traditional craftsmanship - merges with the comforting, deep sweetness of the acacia honey you have added.
the power of the sun and the bustle that awakening human life will bring can already be sensed. it won’t be long before you retreat into the cool clay walls of the castle, into the half-darkness. protected from glaring bright light and the noise of people, you will spend the day in this cozy oasis of calm.
in the evening, you will be outside again, sitting by the fire, with music and the finest, lovingly prepared food and that very special feeling of smoothly flowing lightness and grounding fullness that you only experience so intensely in this place. you will celebrate the beauty. the beauty of the land that surrounds you. your own inner and outer beauty. and that of all life.
**
what a beautiful surprise!
a few years ago, kasbah was unbearably loud and sweet to me. and now I want to wrap myself in the scent, perfuming every inch of my skin with it.
this 19-69 refuge begins its journey with a bang: it hits me with the full energy of zesty-spicy, honey-sweet life, sometimes capturing marzipan, sometimes vanilla or cinnamon, sometimes a little citrusy booziness. very soon, the scent becomes calmer. the wood comes into play, providing a saving, spicy dryness. additionally, a feeling of bright tobacco together with patchouli underpins the sweet power of the honey with a pleasantly rough and slightly smoky sensation.
this mix remains with me until the dry down, in variable proportions.
yes, the honey is the centerpiece of this castle. however, it never becomes sticky sweet, which is very remarkable. otherwise, I would be out. for me, it is a bright, light acacia honey that flows so thin and weightlessly that it leaves no traces on the surface, only a delicate brightness. (my funny brain is just inventing silicone honey… well, we get along just fine, thanks for asking)
the geranium is pleasantly quiet for me. four years ago, I only noted about the scent: “help, the geranium!” I love the surprises that life has to offer. most of them, anyway.
besides the honey, tonka is always present along with the smoky, dry-earthy patch-guaiac-sandalwood trio.
this makes the scent what it is for me: super wearable, non-gourmand, unisex, neither complicated nor complex (which can be nice too). moreover, wonderfully encompassing, warming, protective, yet permeable and cheerfully light. a kind of good-mood oriental.
a feast for beauty.
8 Comments
