The Cold Phase
We are starting to get our first taste of Autumn here in the Littme Miami River valley. A welcome relief from last weeks final stand, as the heatwave had it’s moment and then loosened it’s mighty grip.
I have been having some very nice days health wise so taking advantage of it, working in my lab and batching out some of the formulas that had been sitting around collecting dust.
Included in that mad dash are the new eau de toilettes collection, as well as a new Rose LE, a couple of new things for the huile collection yet to come and some new things for the Signature Collection.
I have never really liked cold weather, getting in my car on a cold gray day, driving into the city to work in my studio. But those days are over. This will be my first winter without a studio in the city, or a studio away from home. I have had a lot of decisions to make this year, and many things have been in limbo.
I have decided that I will work for as long as my body will let me and then figure out what to do next.
I also have a renewed interest in some of the older perfume formulas that I never used. Some of them dating back well over twenty years. I look at them now and smile, remembering a different time, I was younger of course haha!!… but also knowing that I can bring them to life with little effort. I want to explore more of this work and perhaps bring more of it to life before I take my final bow.
We are at a time in our history where art is once again taking on an urgency, a sense of uncertainty that has not been expressed in many years. Maybe it is because of my age, or my circumstances, I find myself in a strange place with this, wanting to create perfumes that are less about the world view, but one that is more and more personal. Perhaps as well it is a balancing act, as I am painting more for the world view. Going back and forth with this human energy that weaves a web through air and light, sea and earth. Trying to be on solid ground and knowing that it really doesn’t exist.
It is cold today and I want to take a walk down to my back fence-line and center my body, feel my feet on the ground and breath in the scent of pine. Take note of the flattened out spaces under the trees where the deer have slept, and log mental notes of the withering mock orange that lines the fence, thinking that if they produce enough flower next year I will gather them and make scented things.