Lately labdanum has been calling to me, from the shelf. I have a smidgen of Mandy Aftels labdanum which I am saving as there is nigh only a drop or two left. I have a thick golden syrup colored labdanum which was bottled by A Little Ol' Factory and which I like well enough and a dark molasses like labdanum by Eden Botanicals. I also have a sticky tar like black raw labdanum which is mouth wateringly delicious to smell. So calling to me they were for over 2 weeks and tonight I answered. I went to my organ and I took down the dark labdanum from Eden Botanicals and it cried "the boronia, the boronia". I took a little vial and I let that voice tell me how many drops of each to put in the vial and what a wonderful beautiful accord they made together. Suddenly the labdanum isn't labdanum, and the boronia isn't boronia. It's something else, something new. Its light and dark, like day and night. It's rich and warm. It's smooth and sweet. Then the cedarwood shouted at me, I thought, no not cedarwood...well actually the cedarwood didn't shout at all. What really happened is this: I looked up at the top shelf of my organ to where I kept my top notes. I thought to myself, the right top note could turn this smooth sweet light darkness into a velvety sky, a sky that one looks at and is not sure if it is the evening or the morning light. A velvet twilight. So I took down the cedarwood, Mandy Aftels cedarwood, and with the addition of a couple of drops I found that I was correct. I have indeed created an accord of velvet twilight.
Lately labdanum has been calling to me, from the shelf. I have a smidgen of Mandy Aftels labdanum which I am saving as there is nigh only a drop or two left. I have a thick golden syrup colored labdanum which was bottled by A Little Ol' Factory and which I like well enough and a dark molasses like labdanum by Eden Botanicals. I also have a sticky tar like black raw labdanum which is mouth wateringly delicious to smell. So calling to me they were for over 2 weeks and tonight I answered. I went to my organ and I took down the dark labdanum from Eden Botanicals and it cried "the boronia, the boronia". I took a little vial and I let that voice tell me how many drops of each to put in the vial and what a wonderful beautiful accord they made together. Suddenly the labdanum isn't labdanum, and the boronia isn't boronia. It's something else, something new. Its light and dark, like day and night. It's rich and warm. It's smooth and sweet. Then the cedarwood shouted at me, I thought, no not cedarwood...well actually the cedarwood didn't shout at all. What really happened is this: I looked up at the top shelf of my organ to where I kept my top notes. I thought to myself, the right top note could turn this smooth sweet light darkness into a velvety sky, a sky that one looks at and is not sure if it is the evening or the morning light. A velvet twilight. So I took down the cedarwood, Mandy Aftels cedarwood, and with the addition of a couple of drops I found that I was correct. I have indeed created an accord of velvet twilight.
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