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Champagne Lace has been restocked at Dark Delicacies! CHAMPAGNE LACE A glittering celebration: folds of opium-stained, vanilla-smoked lace with white cognac and a splash of champagne. http://www.darkdel.com/apps/search?q=phoenix

A glittering celebration: folds of opium-stained, vanilla-smoked lace with white cognac and a splash of champagne. $24 Champagne Lace is available beginning Friday, January 8 at Dark Delicacies: 3512 W Magnolia Blvd, Burbank, CA 91505. (More BPAL/DD collaborations can be found here.)

Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab and Black Phoenix Trading Post will be going dark this afternoon and reopening on Monday, January 4th, in celebration of the new year.

A gentle reminder! As of tomorrow, Dark Delicacies will only be carrying their Dark Delicacies / Black Phoenix co-branded scents, and as of the January Lunacy, we will be moving our LA events back to the Lab! It has been a wonderful five years with Dark Delicacies! In the new year, keep an eye out for a bubbly Lace scent coming to Dark Deliacacies!

In the hopes that 2016 will be a more auspicious year, we look towards the Great Benefic and do honor to His moons. O Jove much-honor'd, Jove supremely great, to thee our holy rites we consecrate, Our pray'rs and expiations, king divine, for all things round thy head exalted shine. MOONS OF JUPITER: METIS One of the Inner Moons, Metis is tidally locked to Jupiter. A scent of prudence, skill, and wise counsel, she is the perfect Moon to kick off a new year with a grounded, steady, firm foundation. Clary sage, oakmoss, white pine, and terebinth. - - - The Blue Carbuncle is the first of our limited edition story sets for 221B Baker Street. All of our story scents in this line are built to be layered with the general catalogue character fragrances in this line. The Blue Carbuncle will be live until 24 February 2016. Illustrations by Julie Dillon! ++ 221B BAKER STREET: THE BLUE CARBUNCLE THE SECOND MORNING AFTER CHRISTMAS I had called upon my friend Sherlock Holmes upon the second morning after Christmas, with the intention of wishing him the compliments of the season. He was lounging upon the sofa in a purple dressing-gown, a pipe-rack within his reach upon the right, and a pile of crumpled morning papers, evidently newly studied, near at hand. Beside the couch was a wooden chair, and on the angle of the back hung a very seedy and disreputable hard-felt hat, much the worse for wear, and cracked in several places. A lens and a forceps lying upon the seat of the chair suggested that the hat had been suspended in this manner for the purpose of examination. A crackling fireplace, pipe smoke, fir needles, and a flutter of snow. THIS BATTERED OLD FELT “Did he not advertise?” “No.” “Then, what clue could you have as to his identity?” “Only as much as we can deduce.” “From his hat?” “Precisely.” “But you are joking. What can you gather from this old battered felt?” “Here is my lens. You know my methods. What can you gather yourself as to the individuality of the man who has worn this article?” I took the tattered object in my hands and turned it over rather ruefully. It was a very ordinary black hat of the usual round shape, hard and much the worse for wear. The lining had been of red silk, but was a good deal discoloured. There was no maker’s name; but, as Holmes had remarked, the initials “H. B.” were scrawled upon one side. It was pierced in the brim for a hat-securer, but the elastic was missing. For the rest, it was cracked, exceedingly dusty, and spotted in several places, although there seemed to have been some attempt to hide the discoloured patches by smearing them with ink. “I can see nothing,” said I, handing it back to my friend. “On the contrary, Watson, you can see everything. You fail, however, to reason from what you see. You are too timid in drawing your inferences.” “Then, pray tell me what it is that you can infer from this hat?” He picked it up and gazed at it in the peculiar introspective fashion which was characteristic of him. “It is perhaps less suggestive than it might have been,” he remarked, “and yet there are a few inferences which are very distinct, and a few others which represent at least a strong balance of probability. That the man was highly intellectual is of course obvious upon the face of it, and also that he was fairly well-to-do within the last three years, although he has now fallen upon evil days. He had foresight, but has less now than formerly, pointing to a moral retrogression, which, when taken with the decline of his fortunes, seems to indicate some evil influence, probably drink, at work upon him. This may account also for the obvious fact that his wife has ceased to love him.” “My dear Holmes!” “He has, however, retained some degree of self-respect,” he continued, disregarding my remonstrance. “He is a man who leads a sedentary life, goes out little, is out of training entirely, is middle-aged, has grizzled hair which he has had cut within the last few days, and which he anoints with lime-cream. These are the more patent facts which are to be deduced from his hat. Also, by the way, that it is extremely improbable that he has gas laid on in his house.” “You are certainly joking, Holmes.” “Not in the least. Is it possible that even now, when I give you these results, you are unable to see how they are attained?” “I have no doubt that I am very stupid, but I must confess that I am unable to follow you. For example, how did you deduce that this man was intellectual?” For answer Holmes clapped the hat upon his head. It came right over the forehead and settled upon the bridge of his nose. “It is a question of cubic capacity,” said he; “a man with so large a brain must have something in it.” “The decline of his fortunes, then?” “This hat is three years old. These flat brims curled at the edge came in then. It is a hat of the very best quality. Look at the band of ribbed silk and the excellent lining. If this man could afford to buy so expensive a hat three years ago, and has had no hat since, then he has assuredly gone down in the world.” The shadow of declining fortunes: lime cream and bourbon vetiver with a dribble of candle wax. THE COUNTESS OF MORCAR’S BLUE CARBUNCLE “The goose, Mr. Holmes! The goose, sir!” he gasped. “Eh? What of it, then? Has it returned to life and flapped off through the kitchen window?” Holmes twisted himself round upon the sofa to get a fairer view of the man’s excited face. “See here, sir! See what my wife found in its crop!” He held out his hand and displayed upon the centre of the palm a brilliantly scintillating blue stone, rather smaller than a bean in size, but of such purity and radiance that it twinkled like an electric point in the dark hollow of his hand. Sherlock Holmes sat up with a whistle. “By Jove, Peterson!” said he, “this is treasure trove indeed. I suppose you know what you have got?” “A diamond, sir? A precious stone. It cuts into glass as though it were putty.” “It’s more than a precious stone. It is the precious stone.” “Not the Countess of Morcar’s blue carbuncle!” I ejaculated. Dazzling blue musk, white juniper, iris pallida, white oudh, and sugar crystals. A RIFLED JEWELRY CASE “Hotel Cosmopolitan Jewel Robbery. John Horner, 26, plumber, was brought up upon the charge of having upon the 22nd inst., abstracted from the jewel-case of the Countess of Morcar the valuable gem known as the blue carbuncle. James Ryder, upper-attendant at the hotel, gave his evidence to the effect that he had shown Horner up to the dressing-room of the Countess of Morcar upon the day of the robbery in order that he might solder the second bar of the grate, which was loose. He had remained with Horner some little time, but had finally been called away. On returning, he found that Horner had disappeared, that the bureau had been forced open, and that the small morocco casket in which, as it afterwards transpired, the Countess was accustomed to keep her jewel, was lying empty upon the dressing-table. Ryder instantly gave the alarm, and Horner was arrested the same evening; but the stone could not be found either upon his person or in his rooms. Catherine Cusack, maid to the Countess, deposed to having heard Ryder’s cry of dismay on discovering the robbery, and to having rushed into the room, where she found matters as described by the last witness. Inspector Bradstreet, B division, gave evidence as to the arrest of Horner, who struggled frantically, and protested his innocence in the strongest terms. Evidence of a previous conviction for robbery having been given against the prisoner, the magistrate refused to deal summarily with the offence, but referred it to the Assizes. Horner, who had shown signs of intense emotion during the proceedings, fainted away at the conclusion and was carried out of court.” Gilded cypress wood, padded silk, and a hint of perfume. THE DEVIL’S PET BAITS “It’s a bonny thing,” said he. “Just see how it glints and sparkles. Of course it is a nucleus and focus of crime. Every good stone is. They are the devil’s pet baits. In the larger and older jewels every facet may stand for a bloody deed. This stone is not yet twenty years old. It was found in the banks of the Amoy River in southern China and is remarkable in having every characteristic of the carbuncle, save that it is blue in shade instead of ruby red. In spite of its youth, it has already a sinister history. There have been two murders, a vitriol-throwing, a suicide, and several robberies brought about for the sake of this forty-grain weight of crystallised charcoal. Who would think that so pretty a toy would be a purveyor to the gallows and the prison? I’ll lock it up in my strong box now and drop a line to the Countess to say that we have it.” The madness of avarice: rich patchouli-infused golden amber, leather, black oudh, and almond. ALIAS The man hesitated for an instant. “My name is John Robinson,” he answered with a sidelong glance. “No, no; the real name,” said Holmes sweetly. “It is always awkward doing business with an alias.” A masquerade, a scent to camouflage: tonka bean and vanilla with red patchouli, Spanish king mandarin, white sandalwood, black pepper, and rose geranium. THE SEASON OF FORGIVENESS “I suppose that I am commuting a felony, but it is just possible that I am saving a soul. This fellow will not go wrong again; he is too terribly frightened. Send him to gaol now, and you make him a gaol-bird for life. Besides, it is the season of forgiveness. Chance has put in our way a most singular and whimsical problem, and its solution is its own reward.” White clove, bright carnation, labdanum, sweet patchouli, Terebinth pine, warm sandalwood, and a drop of Ceylon cinnamon.

Exclusively made for the Mütter Museum, the Umlaut Perfume is a custom scent designed by Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab. An old fan favorite is once again brought to life within the Mütter Store and is the perfect scent to inspire memories of scanning the exhibits. http://www.muttermuseumstore.org/products/umlaut-perfume

Help give the gift of safety and succor this holiday season. Proceeds from every single bottle of Palmyra goes to the UNHCR's relief efforts, and I will personally match the donations generated from this fundraiser.

Make a purchase on the Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab site on Black Friday, Small Business Saturday, or CyberMonday and receive a complimentary imp of Ploutos! PLOUTOS Open of yourselves, you doors, for mightly Ploutos will enter in: golden amber and smoky oudh with honey, patchouli, and leather. ☠ ☠ ☠ Make a purchase on the Black Phoenix Trading Post site on Black Friday, Small Business Saturday, or CyberMonday and receive a complimentary squirt of Thrice-Ploughed Field! THRICE-PLOUGHED FIELD ATMOSPHERE SPRAY Demeter, bright goddess, was joined in sweet love with the hero Iasion in a thrice-ploughed fallow in the rich land of Krete, and bare Ploutos, a kindly god who goes everywhere over land and the sea’s wide back, and him who finds him and into whose hands he comes he makes rich, bestowing great wealth upon him. Hay absolute, honey, oats, and patchouli.

Mare Vaporum is live at Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab! http://blackphoenixalchemylab.com/shop/a-little-lunacy-limited-edition/mare-vaporum/ MARE VAPORUM The Sea of Vapors: white sandalwood, smoky oudh, golden amber, bourbon vanilla, and black jasmine. Also? -- ++ IT’S BPAL’S LUCKY 13! The Phoenixes will be live until January 6, 2015. ZUT ALORS! BPAL IS A TEENAGER. Thirteen years. Thirteen years of bliss and strangeness, thirteen merrily macabre years of creeps, cupcakes, and smut. Thirteen years of family and light and love… thank you all for helping us fill the past thirteen years with poetry, tales, friendship and cheer. Thank you for being with us through births, deaths, unions and rites of passage. Thank you for sharing our joys and our burdens, and for allowing us to be a part of your lives. In the past thirteen years, you have been with us through so much. Thank you for your kindness, your support, and for your friendship. With all of my love, and in no particular order… Thank you, BRIAN, for being the best of friends. Thank you for putting up with my bullshit, thank you for being the Brain to my Pinky, thank you for being my partner in ridiculousness, thank you for everything you do. Here’s to another thirteen (thirty? three-hundred?) years of doing the crazy shit we do. I love you. I love you, TED. Thank you for being my one true, perfect, eternal love. Thank you for being my Prince Charming, thank you for always being there for me, thank you for your patience, your sober counsel, your laughter, your filthy mind, your sense of humor. Thank you for being you, thank you for being mine. Thank you, my LILITH, my wee little werewolf. Your laugh makes my heart sparkle, your smile brightens even the most sorrowful day. You are my tiny muse, my joy and my light, and I am very, very grateful to be your mother. Thank you, CHRISSY, for being an extraordinary assistant and a true friend. Thank you for your patience and diligence, your creativity, and your kindness. Your passion and drive is an inspiration, and I love you! Thank you, JACQUELYNN, for being a phenomenal general manager and a great friend. Thank you for all your tireless hard work, your dedication, your inventiveness, your sense of humor, and everything you do to keep our rickety wheels turning! You are amazing, and you are such a vital, important part of BPAL. I love you! Thank you, PIOLET, for your hard work and your friendship, for your optimism, patience, and good humor, and for always being a good friend. You are wonderful, and I’m grateful for all you do! Thank you, LILY, for your sweetness and your positivity! Your sunny, kind heart is an inspiration, and your cool head and equanimity is truly something to be admired. You roll with life’s hiccups in the road with so much compassion. Thank you for all that you do! SABINA, CERINA, STACY, and BEN, thank you for the tremendous hard work you put into helping us get through both calm work weeks and batshit crazy seasons. Your work forms the foundation of this company, and we couldn’t do this without you. Thank you to SUE and DEL at Dark Delicacies for giving us a home away from home for five wonderful years, and for hosting our crazy events! Thank you for sharing your wisdom with us, thank you for being such wonderful, wonderful friends, and thank you for being the greatest grandparents a little werewolf pup could dream of! I love you! Thank you, ASHLEY and KAT, for helping so much at Trading Post! You are both amazing, sanity-saving goddesses, and I love you! Thank you, SARA, for all the dedication, joy, and passion that you pour into every Black Phoenix event. I am grateful for all you do. You are a wonderful person, and a wonderful friend. Thank you! KAITLIN, there are no words for how grateful I am for all that you do. Thank you for putting up with my demented requests, last-minute groveling, and extraordinarily disorganization! Thank you for your huge heart, your sharp wit, and your boundless compassion. Thank you for putting up with my Pisces’ness. You are the Most Radiant, and I love you. TOM! Thank you for being my Other Voice! Thank you so much for helping us so much while we’re on the road, and thank you for all that you do to include BPAL in your projects and events! Thank you for your wit and inventiveness. Thank you for your sharing your talent and your time, thank you for always listening when I’m a screeching loon, thank you for being one of my dearest friends. My love, my gratitude, and my eternal friendship goes out to my sisters, the mods and admins at bpal.org. You have been with me through so much, you are not just a part of my family, you are a part of my heart. Thank you for always being there for me in every possible way. Thank you for being with me through my wedding and my child’s birth, through so many joys and sorrows, through every hill and valley that BPAL has been through… you mean the world to me, and I love you so very much. Thank you, SHANA, for your kind heart, your buoyant cheer, and effervescent enthusiasm! You are truly a force of nature, and I treasure our friendship! Thank you, FOREST, for being you. Your compassion and nobility of spirit is an inspiration, and I’m truly thankful for our friendship. I love you, fartface. Thank you, EM, for always having my back, for always, always being there for me, and for being one of my bestest friends. I value your wisdom and counsel so very much. Thank you for helping me navigate oft-stormy seas. I love you! You know, ALI… I think I really said it best last year. You are my living, breathing Manual of Style! Thank you for cleaning up my babble, thank you for being a fountain of wit and inspiration, thank you for always being there for me. You are amazing, and I love you. Thank you, DONNA, for being the bestest BPAL babysitter! You have no idea how much I love you. Thank you for always being there for me, thank you Thank you, ANDRA, you are a true friend, a wonderful woman, and I love you so much! Thank you to LISA, TOM, SARA, CHRISSY, MICHAEL, DONNA, ANDRA, EVA, and BERNADETTE for making this year’s travelling Snake Oil show possible. Thank you so much for all the hard work you put into the events, and for being there for us. We couldn’t do it without you. Thank you, LISA T., for being the heart and soul of Dirty South Will Call. You truly are one of the most amazing, strongest women I know, and I love you. Thank you, SEAN, for helping us with bpal.org. Without your efforts, the forum would have died a horrible, much-lamented death. You have no idea how grateful I am. Thank you, COURTNEY, for being my New England Sister! Thank you for all of your generosity and kindness! Your love makes Black Phoenix stronger, brighter, and more suffused with joy. I love you! Thank you, CAT, for being such an amazing friend. Thank you for being my co-conspirator and confidante. Our brunches are too few! I love you! Huge amounts of love and HUGE amounts of gratitude to LAURA HALL and all the wonderful people at Laika studios. Your generosity and kindness is beyond measure. Thank you to THOMAS, CHANDRA, MELISSA, KAT (and THOMAS JR!) at Century Guild. I love you guys! Thank you, MAGGIE, for giving BPAL a home at Pretty Indulgent! Thank you for being such an amazing friend and such a gentle inspiration. Thank you, AUDRA, for giving BPAL a home at Loved to Death! It is a delight working with you, and I am overjoyed by our partnership! Thank you! Thank you, JILLIAN, Our Lady of Manners, and SARAH ELIZABETH, for all that you’ve done to help promote Black Phoenix. You are both amazing, radiant women, and I am blessed by our friendship. I love you both! JESS, thank you! Your artistry, ethics, and joyful darkness is a constant source of inspiration. I love you! Many thanks and much love to JAMIE and LISA at Legendary Pictures for their patience, indulgence, and kindness! Thank you for putting up with my millions of questions, thank you for all of your help, and thank you for making this year’s Crimson Peak project possible! Thank you to NEIL GAIMAN, GUILLERMO DEL TORO, LEGENDARY PICTURES, JIM JARMUSCH, PETER S. BEAGLE, KELLY SUE DECONNICK, TERRY PRATCHETT, CAROLYN HENNESY, TERRY MOORE, MIKE AND CHRISTINE MIGNOLA, GEORGE PEREZ, PETER DAVID, MOLLY CRABAPPLE, MARK WAID, THOMAS NEGOVAN, STORM CONSTANTINE, MATT WAGNER, JIM HENSON PRODUCTIONS, BRIAN PULIDO, JOSEPH MICHAEL LINSNER, GRIS GRIMLY, GEORGE RR MARTIN, CLIVE BARKER, MARK MILLER, DAVID MACK, GAIL POTOCKI, ERIN MORGENSTERN, and YSANNE SPEVAK for giving Black Phoenix the opportunity to interpret your work. Thank you to the noble souls at the COMIC BOOK LEGAL DEFENSE FUND. The work you do helps so many, and it is an honor to work with you. Thank you, CHARLES, for being an inspiration, a true friend, and a partner in occasional French Quarter debauchery! Thank you, CP, for being an incredible friend. Your kind soul and radiant spirit illuminates everything and everyone you touch. Love and thanks to the artists that have lent us their talent: ADAM HUGHES, ALICIA DABNEY, JULIE DILLON, EMMA RIOS, MADAME TALBOT, QUIQUE ALCATENA, JENNIFER RODGERS, MANDA LANDER, KERI NEWTON, NICK PAVIK, ROBERT KRAIZA, ARISTOTLE PRAMAGIOULIS, TANYA BJORK, ANDREW FOGEL, BRIAN KESSINGER, ABIGAIL LARSON, AIDAN CASSERLY, and SARAH COLEMAN! Love and thanks to THINK GEEK, CENTURY GUILD, LOVED TO DEATH, the MÜTTER MUSEUM, HAUTE MACABRE, HERETIC SALON, WHOLE FOODS, PRETTY INDULGENT, HEALTHY LIVING, and DARK DELICACIES for giving our products a home in your stores! Love and thanks to the bloggers, journalists, magazines, and other media outlets that taken the time to write about Black Phoenix. Honestly, I cannot thank you enough. And last but certainly not least, I’d like to thank my ANCESTORS, all the GODS (both celestial and infernal), the HOUSE GHOST, and anyone else that might be looking out for me. I wrote this many years ago, and it’s just as true today as it was then: ‘Thank you for sharing our joy and for standing with us during difficult times. The family that has grown around BPAL is like no other in the world. Every time I wander into the forum, I see people supporting one another in times of need, showing selfless kindness and offering support to one another… to me, you all are models of emotional generosity and true friendship, and it is truly an honor to be a part of your lives. I cannot express my gratitude enough. Thank you for celebrating the beauty of living with us, and for holding our hands during times of stress and sorrow. This year has been turbulent for just about everyone we know. It’s been a hard year filled with challenges and hidden lessons, but none of it is insurmountable because we all have this tremendous, genuinely loving family. Thank you.’ - - - Doceat nos igitur hec avis vel exemplo sui resurrectionem credere que et sine exemplo et sine rationis perceptione ip sa sibi insignia resurrectionis instaurat, et utique aves propter hominem sunt non homo propter avem. Sit igitur exemplum nobis quia auctor et creator avium sanctos suos imperpe tuum peri re non pas sus, resur gentem eam sui semine voluit reparari. Quis igitur huic annunti at diem mortis ut faciat sibi thecam et impleat eam bo nis odoribus atqe ingrediatur in eam et moriatur illic, ubi odoribus gratis fetor funeris possit aboleri? ++ BPAL’S THIRTEENTH ANNIVERSARY http://blackphoenixalchemylab.com/product-category/limited-edition/phoenix-2015/ AELIAN’S PHOENIX The Phoinix knows how to reckon five hundred years without the aid of arithmetic, for it is a pupil of all-wise nature, so that it has no need of fingers or anything else to aid it in the understanding of numbers. The purpose of this knowledge and the need for it are matters of common report. But hardly a soul among the Aigyptoi knows when the five-hundred-year period is completed; only a very few know, and they belong to the priestly order. But in fact the priests have difficulty in agreeing on these points, and banter one another and maintain that it is not now but at some date later than when it was due that the divine bird will arrive. Meantime while they are vainly squabbling, the bird miraculously guesses the period by signs and appears. And the priests are obliged to give way and confess that thy devote their time ‘to putting the sun to rest with their talk’; but they do not know as much as birds. But, in God's name, is it not wise to know where Aigyptos is situated, where Heliopolis whither the bird is destined to come, and where it must bury its father and in what kind of coffin? Golden amber and patchouli with fiery peppercorn, cocoa, white cedar, neroli, vanilla pod, and frankincense. BARTHOLOMAEUS ANGLICUS’ PHOENIX Phoenix is a bird, and there is but one of that kind in all the wide world. Therefore lewd men wonder thereof, and among the Arabs, there this bird is bred, he is called singular--alone. The philosopher speaketh of this bird and saith that phoenix is a bird without make, and liveth three hundred or five hundred years: when the which years are past, and he feeleth his own default and feebleness, he maketh a nest of right sweet-smelling sticks, that are full dry, and in summer when the western wind blows, the sticks and the nest are set on fire with burning heat of the sun, and burn strongly. Then this bird phoenix cometh willfully into the burning nest, and is there burnt to ashes among these burning sticks, and within three days a little worm is gendered of the ashes, and waxeth little and little, and taketh feathers and is shapen and turned to a bird. Ambrose saith the same in the Hexameron: Of the humours or ashes of phoenix ariseth a new bird and waxeth, and in space of time he is clothed with feathers and wings and restored into the kind of a bird, and is the most fairest bird that is, most like to the peacock in feathers, and loveth the wilderness, and gathereth his meat of clean grains and fruits. Alan speaketh of this bird and saith, that when the highest bishop Onyas builded a temple in the city of Heliopolis in Egypt, to the likeness of the temple in Jerusalem, on the first day of Easter, when he had gathered much sweet-smelling wood, and set it on fire upon the altar to offer sacrifice, to all men's sight such a bird came suddenly, and fell into the middle of the fire, and was burnt anon to ashes in the fire of the sacrifice, and the ashes abode there, and were busily kept and saved by the commandments of the priests, and within three days, of these ashes was bred a little worm, that took the shape of a bird at the last, and flew into the wilderness. The fire of the sacrifice: scorched, honeyed cedar and carob wood aflame with amber, cinnamon, and red sandalwood. CLAUDIAN’S PHOENIX There is a leafy wood fringed by Oceanus' farthest marge beyond the Indes and the East where Dawn's panting coursers first seek entrance; it hears the lash close by, what time the watery threshold echoes to the dewy car; and hence comes forth the rosy morn while night, illumined by those far-shining wheels of fire, casts off her sable cloak and broods less darkly. This is the kingdom of the blessèd bird of the sun where it dwells in solitude defended b the inhospitable nature of the land and immune from the ills that befall other living creatures; nor does it suffer infection from the world of men. Equal to the gods is that bird whose life rivals the stars and whose renascent limbs weary the passing centuries. It needs no food to satisfy hunger nor any drink to quench thirst; the sun's clear beam is its food, the sea's rare spray its drink--exhalations such as these form its simple nourishment. A mysterious fire flashes from its eyes, and a flaming aureole enriches its head. Its crest shines with the sun's own light and shatters the darkness with its calm brilliance. Its legs are of Tyrian purple; swifter than those of the Zephyrs are its wings of flower-like blue dappled with rich gold. Never was this bird conceived nor springs it from any mortal seed, itself is alike its own father and son, and with none to recreate it, it renews its outworn limbs with a rejuvenation of death, and at each decease wins a fresh lease of life. For when a thousand summers have passed far away, a thousand winters gone by, a thousand springs in their course given to the husbandmen that shade of which autumn robbed them, then at last, fordone by the number of its years, it falls a victim to the burden of age; as a tall pine on the summit of Caucasus, wearied with storms, heels over with its weight and threatens at last to crash in ruin; one portion falls by reason of the unceasing winds, another breaks away rotted by the rain, another consumed by the decay of years. Now the Phoenix's bright eye grows dim and the pupil becomes palsied by the frost of years, like the moon when she is shrouded in clouds and her horn beings to vanish in the mist. Now his wings, wont to cleave the clouds of heaven, can scarce raise them from the earth. Then, realizing that his span of life is at an end and in preparation for a renewal of his splendour, he gathers dry herbs from the sun-warmed hills, and making an interwoven heap of the branches of the precious tree of Saba he builds that pyre which shall be at once his tomb and his cradle. On this he takes his seat and as he grows weaker greets the Sun with his sweet voice; offering up prayers and supplications he begs that those fires will give him renewal of strength. Phoebus, on seeing him afar, checks his reins and staying his course consoles his loving child with these words: ‘Thou who art about to leave thy years behind upon yon pyre, who, by this pretence of death, art destined to rediscover life; thou whose decease means but the renewal of existence and who by self-destruction regainest thy lost youth, receive back thy life, quit the body that must die, and by a change of form come forth more beauteous than ever.’ So speaks he, and shaking his head casts one of his golden hairs and smites willing Phoenix with its life-giving effulgence. Now, to ensure his rebirth, he suffers himself to be burned and in his eagerness to be born again meets death with joy. Stricken with the heavenly flame the fragrant pile catches fire and burns the aged body. The moon in amaze checks her milk-white heifers and heaven halts his revolving spheres, while the pyre conceives the new life; Nature takes care that the deathless bird perish not, and calls upon the sun, mindful of his promise, to restore its immortal glory to the world. Straightway the life spirit surges through his scattered limbs; the renovated blood floods his veins. The ashes show signs of life; they begin to move though there is none to move them, and feathers clothe the mass of cinders. He who was but now the sire comes forth from the pyre the son and successor; between life and life lay but that brief space wherein the pyre burned. His first delight is to consecrate his father's spirit by the banks of the Nile and to carry to the land of Aegyptus the burned mass from which he was born. With all speed he wings his way to that foreign strand, carrying the remains in a covering of grass. Birds innumerable accompany him, and whole flocks thereof throng in airy flight. Their mighty host shuts out the sky where'er it passes. But from among so vast an assemblage none dares outstrip the leader; all follow respectfully in the balmy wake of their king. Neither the fierce hawk nor the eagle, Jove's own armour-bearer, fall to fighting; in honour of their common master a truce is observed by all. Thus the Parthian monarch leads his barbarous hosts by yellow Tigris' banks, all glorious with jewels and rich ornament and decks his tiara with royal garlands; his horse's bridle is of gold, Assyrian embroidery embellishes his scarlet robes, and proud with sovereignty he lords it o'er his numberless slaves. There is in Aegyptus a well-known city celebrated for its pious sacrifices and dedicated to the worship of Ra. Its temples rest on a hundred columns hewn from the quarries of Thebes. Here, as the story tells, the Phoenix is wont to store his father's ashes and, adoring the image of the god, his master, to entrust his precious burden to the flames. He places on the altar that from which he is sprung and that which remains of himself. Bright shines the wondrous threshold; the fragrant shrine is filled with the holy smoke of the altar and the odour of Indian incense, penetrating even as far as the Pelusiac marshes, fills the nostrils of men, flooding them with its kindly influence and with a scent sweeter than that of nectar perfumes the seven mouths of the dark Nile. Happy bird, heir to thine own self! Death which proves our undoing restores thy strength. Thine ashes give thee life and though thou perish not thine old age dies. Thou hast beheld all that has been, hast witnessed the passing of the ages. Thou knowest when it was that the waves of the sea rose and o'erflowed the rocks, what year it was that Phaëthon's error devoted to the flames. Yet did no destruction overwhelm thee; sole survivor thou livest to see the earth subdued; against thee the Fates gather not up their threads, powerless to do thee harm. Sole survivor thou livest to see the earth subdued; against thee the Fates gather not up their threads, powerless to do thee harm: red patchouli, sweet frankincense, and the figs and pomegranates of the seven mouths of the dark Nile. CLEMENT I’S PHOENIX Let us consider the strange sign which takes place in the East, that is in the districts near Arabia. There is a bird which is called the Phoenix. This is the only one of its kind, and lives 500 years; and when the time of its dissolution in death is at hand, it makes itself a sepulchre of frankincense and myrrh and other spices, and when the time is fulfilled it enters into it and dies. Now, from the corruption of its flesh there springs a worm, which is nourished by the juices of the dead bird, and puts forth wings. Then, when it has become strong, it takes up that sepulchre, in which are the bones of its predecessor, and carries them from the country of Arabia as far as Egypt until it reaches the city called Heliopolis, and in the daylight in the sight of all it flies to the altar of the Sun, places them there, and then starts back to its former home. Then the priests inspect the registers of dates, and they find that it has come at the fulfilment of the 500th year. A sepulchre of frankincense and caramelized myrrh. ISIDORE’S PHOENIX The phoenix is a bird of Arabia, which gets its name from its purple color; or because it is singular and unique in the world and the Arabs call singular and unique phoenix. It lives for 500 years or more. When it sees that it has grown old it builds a pyre for itself from spices and twigs, and facing the rays of the rising sun ignites a fire and fans it with its wings, and rises again from its own ashes. Feathers of deep plum and wild violet darkly gleaming with myrrh, black amber, and benzoin. LE CLERC’S PHOENIX There is a bird named the phoenix, which dwells in India and is never found elsewhere. This bird is always alone and without companion, for its like cannot be found, and there is no other bird which resembles it in habits or appearance. At the end of five hundred years it feels that it has grown old, and loads itself with many rare and precious spices, and flies from the desert away to the city of Leopolis. There, by some sign or other, the coming of the bird is announced to a priest of that city, who causes fagots to be gathered and placed upon a beautiful altar, erected for the bird. And so, as I have said, the bird, laden with spices, comes to the altar, and smiting upon the hard stone with its beak, it causes the flame to leap forth and set fire to the wood and the spices. When the fire is burning brightly, the phoenix lays itself upon the altar and is burned to dust and ashes. Then comes the priest and finds the ashes piled up, and separating them softly he finds within a little worm, which gives forth an odor sweeter than that of roses or of any other flower. The next day and the next the priest comes again, and on the third day he finds that the worm has become a full-grown and full-fledged bird, which bows low before him and flies away, glad and joyous, nor returns again before five hundred years. Assyrian cypress and cedar with cinnamon, black cardamom, cassia, Egyptian balsam, acanthus leaves, and frankincense. LUCAN’S PHOENIX Then copious poisons from the moon distils Mixed with all monstrous things which Nature's pangs Bring to untimely birth; the froth from dogs Stricken with madness foaming at the stream; A lynx's entrails and the knot that grows Upon the fell hyaena; flesh of stags Fed upon serpents and the sucking fish Which holds the vessel back though eastern winds Make bend the canvas; dragon's eyes; and stones That sound beneath the brooding eagle's wings. Nor Araby's viper, nor the ocean snake Who in the Red Sea waters guards the shell, Are wanting; nor the slough on Libyan sands By horned reptile cast nor ashes fail Snatched from an altar where the Phoenix died Copious poisons from the moon distils: frankincense, mugwort, toxic moonseed, lemon balm, pale yellow musk seed, and elemi. MANDEVILLE’S PHOENIX In Egypt is the city of Heliopolis, that is to say, the city of the Sun. In that city there is a temple, made round after the shape of the Temple of Jerusalem. The priests of that temple have all their writings, under the date of the fowl that is clept phoenix; and there is none but one in all the world. And he cometh to burn himself upon the altar of that temple at the end of five hundred year; for so long he liveth. And at the five hundred years' end, the priests array their altar honestly, and put thereupon spices and sulphur vif and other things that will burn lightly; and then the bird phoenix cometh and burneth himself to ashes. And the first day next after, men find in the ashes a worm; and the second day next after, men find a bird quick and perfect; and the third day next after, he flieth his way. And so there is no more birds of that kind in all the world, but it alone, and truly that is a great miracle of God. And men may well liken that bird unto God, because that there ne is no God but one; and also, that our Lord arose from death to life the third day. This bird men see often-time fly in those countries; and he is not mickle more than an eagle. And he hath a crest of feathers upon his head more great than the peacock hath; and is neck his yellow after colour of an oriel that is a stone well shining, and his beak is coloured blue as ind; and his wings be of purple colour, and his tail is barred overthwart with green and yellow and red. And he is a full fair bird to look upon, against the sun, for he shineth full gloriously and nobly. Sulphur and myrrh crackling with clove, Himalayan cedar, and red sandalwood. PHILOSTRATUS’ PHOENIX ‘And the Phoinix,’ Iarkhas said, ‘is the bird which visits Aigyptos every five hundred years, but the rest of that time it flies about in India; and it is unique in that it gives out rays of sunlight and shines with gold, in size and appearance like an eagle; and it sits upon the nest; which is made by it at the springs of the Nile out of spices. The story of the Aigyptoi about it, that it comes to Aigyptos, is testified to by the Indians also, but the latter add this touch to the story, that the Phoinix which is being consumed in its nest sings funeral strains for itself. And this is also done by the swans according to the account of those who have the wit to hear them.’ Rays of sunlight, shining with gold: amber glittering with orange blossom, Calabrian lemon, warm saffron, golden vegetal musk, and honeyed incense. STATIUS’ PHOENIX Isis, once stalled in Phoroneus’ caves, now queen of Pharos and a deity of the breathless East, welcome with sound of many a sistrum the Mareotic bark, and gently with thine own hand lead the peerless youth, on whom the Latian prince hath bestowed the standards of the East and the bridling of the cohorts of Palestine, through festal gate and sacred haven and the cities of thy land. Under thy protection may he learn whence comes the fruitful license of marshy Nile, why the waters abate and are hemmed within the banks that the Cecropian bird has coated with clay, why Memphis is jealous, why the shore of Therapnean Canopus makes wanton revel, why the warden of Lethe guards the Pharian shrines, why vile beasts are held equal to mighty gods; what altars the long-lived Phoenix prepares for his own death, what fields Apis, adored by trembling shepherds, deigns to graze, and in what waters of Nile he bathes. Pomegranate root, honey, white cedar, and frankincense.

On Halloween, Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab will be introducing our line of fragrances, jewelry, and mementos inspired by Guillermo Del Toro's gothic masterpiece, Crimson Peak.

On Halloween, Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab will be introducing our line of fragrances, jewelry, and mementos inspired by Guillermo Del Toro's gothic masterpiece, Crimson Peak.

We're raffling off a few tickets! A contest for the LA screening will be up in a few days, too!

The Lunacy is live! We invite you to trek through the Marsh of Corruption and seethe with the Blood Moon. PALUS PUTRIDINIS The Marsh of Corruption: murky patchouli and dank oakmoss drowning in a mire of leathery bourbon vanilla, bitter clove, bog cypress, cumin, and vetiver. http://blackphoenixalchemylab.com/shop/a-little-lunacy-limited-edition/palus-putridinis/ BLOOD MOON FULL LUNAR ECLIPSE Blood Moon Full Lunar Eclipse September 27th brings us a Supermoon Blood Moon Full Lunar Eclipse in Aries. This is the scent of domination and belligerence, passivity and compliance – revenge clashing against reconciliation – and the internal struggle to balance it all. Soul-rending hatred gnawing at the impulse of compassion, the struggle for safety at all costs, and the blood and tears that cleanse it all in the end. May the Gods show mercy to any who stand in the way. Impenetrable, blood-spattered, Martial red musk, fiery pomegranate and black pepper, the splintered woods of uncountable wooden arrow shafts and shields, sharp frankincense and morose myrrh, all smothering the gentler impulses of the moon. Only 300 bottles of this Blood Moon were crafted. $27 per little bottle of rage. http://blackphoenixalchemylab.com/shop/a-little-lunacy-limited-edition/blood-moon-full-lunar-eclipse/

Lilith, I love you. I love you more than words can convey. I love you more than my heart or mind can comprehend. I love all of you: the light and the dark, the cheerful and the complex. I love your luminous spirit, I love your generous, kind soul. Truly, to me you are the Gladdener of All Hearts. Happy birthday, kiddo. http://blackphoenixalchemylab.com/product-category/limited-edition/lilith-2015/ ++ LILITH VICTORIA, 2015 @ BPAL A VAST SIMILITUDE INTERLOCKS ALL On the beach at night alone, As the old mother sways her to and fro, singing her husky song, As I watch the bright stars shining, I think a thought of the clef of the universes, and of the future. A vast similitude interlocks all, All spheres, grown, ungrown, small, large, suns, moons, planets All distances of place however wide, All distances of time, all inanimate forms, All souls, all living bodies, though they be ever so different, or in different worlds, All gaseous, watery, vegetable, mineral processes, the fishes, the brutes, All nations, colors, barbarisms, civilizations, languages, All identities that have existed, or may exist, on this globe, or any globe, All lives and deaths, all of the past, present, future, This vast similitude spans them, and always has spann’d, And shall forever span them and compactly hold and enclose them. Eternally lapping ocean waves at sunset, touched by the pale pinkish amber of the setting sun. BATTLE FAIRY IN TRAINING Lilith loves her kung fu classes. She loves her sifu, she loves the exercises, she loves practicing her forms. (She’s alright with the meditation aspect, but let’s be real: she’s a kid, and would rather be doing somersaults.) This year, she attained her blue belt, and this scent was created to commemorate her achievement. Baby, I am so proud of you. You worked so hard, and it paid off. I am always, always proud of you. This Battle Fairy smells like blue cotton candy, strawberries, a plop of vanilla icing and a bit of crushed peppermint candy. BLOOD AND JUDGMENT SO WELL COMMEDLED This year, Lilith started cultivating a love of Shakespeare, especially Hamlet. Man, this kid loves that play. I assumed, when we started talking about Shakespeare’s works, that she’d love the comedies, particularly Midsummer Night’s Dream and all its attendant fairies. Nope; it’s all about the mopey Prince of Denmark and his teen angst. When she started at her Shakespeare summer camp this year, one of her teachers asked which characters she liked best. She replied, “Horatio.” “Horatio? But he doesn’t have many lines, does he? Why do you like him so much?” “He’s Hamlet’s best friend, he’s always there for Hamlet, and he’s the only one that doesn’t die.” Wise words, kiddo! This is a photo that I took of her watching Kenneth Branagh’s Hamlet with her trusty sidekick, Wednesday. The dog, for her part, is a huge fan of the Two Gentlemen of Verona. A little kid’s interpretation of Hamlet’s BFF. A scent of kindness and devotion, friendship and loyalty: soft brown leather and brushed suede with bourbon vanilla, toasted almond, tonka bean, and amber. GHOST REVELRY While we were at Kensal Green in March, Lilith began knocking on all the crypts to wake the ghosts. In her estimation, they were likely bored and lonely, and a party would do them some good. Lil is always very concerned about everyone’s happiness, both the living and the dead. A spectral shindig: damp mosses, fallen leaves, and soft woods swirled with an ethereal mist of white sandalwood, lilac, orris root, and moonflower. GIVE ME THY BREATH, MY SISTER “Give me thy breath, my sister,” exclaimed Beatrice; “for I am faint with common air! And give me this flower of thine, which I separate with gentlest fingers from the stem, and place it close beside my heart.” Lilith absolutely adores her carnivorous plants. She is doting and gentle… decidedly loving… and tends them with all of her precise, attentive Virgo care. She has a small pot of scarlet pink pitcher plants that are all her own, and two bogs that she shares with mom and dad. Rosy snap-traps, syrupy mucilage, and pink, ballooning bladders: a scent like honey cotton candy, with hints of mint, sugar crystals, and a hint of crisp, bog-moist greenery. LITTLE LADY MACBETH “Lady Macbeth should have Macbeth and the king just play rock paper scissors to see who gets to be king. And then whoever wins has to play against her and if she wins, she gets to be king.” – Lilith coming up with solutions as we begin reading the Scottish Play. A Lilith’ized take on our Lady Macbeth scent, wherein ambition, covetousness, and manipulation are transformed into fairmindedness, equity, and a willingness to sometimes leave things to chance: sugared red currant and honey cake. MEUS AMOR AETERNUS When our tarantula, Pinky, died, Lilith buried her. She cradled Pinky’s little body and placed her in a special box. She dug the grave with her own hands. She composed a memorial for Pinky, and spoke at her funeral. She laid a heart-shaped stone that she had found at the beach on her grave, and many months later, she still does what she can to tend Pinky’s grave. She has a reverence and respect for both life and death that is as beautiful to me as it is uncanny. Just recently, Lilith asked Ted and I to compose eulogies for our Soccer Mom Car, which was recently totaled, so we could share our memories of the car and let the car know how much she meant to us, thanking our poor, unfortunate SUV for keeping us safe for so many years. I love and treasure many things about my daughter, but to me, her big heart is her most beautiful aspect. She seems to love everyone and everything, she forgives all, and she truly values other people’s feelings. Lilith, you are a good person. You are a better person than I, I suspect, and it is an honor to be your mother. A cotton candy-suffused blend of Snake Oil and Dorian, touched by earthy green moss and raiz de moras, hope-filled vanilla bean, sweet honey, and joyous carnation. The scent has roots in her bloodline and has been touched by the world, but is entirely her own. She is entirely her own. MUSE OF FIRE O for a Muse of fire, that would ascend The brightest heaven of invention, A kingdom for a stage, princes to act And monarchs to behold the swelling scene! Then should the warlike Harry, like himself, Assume the port of Mars; and at his heels, Leash’d in like hounds, should famine, sword and fire Crouch for employment. But pardon, and gentles all, The flat unraised spirits that have dared On this unworthy scaffold to bring forth So great an object: can this cockpit hold The vasty fields of France? or may we cram Within this wooden O the very casques That did affright the air at Agincourt? O, pardon! since a crooked figure may Attest in little place a million; And let us, ciphers to this great accompt, On your imaginary forces work. Suppose within the girdle of these walls Are now confined two mighty monarchies, Whose high upreared and abutting fronts The perilous narrow ocean parts asunder: Piece out our imperfections with your thoughts; Into a thousand parts divide on man, And make imaginary puissance; Think when we talk of horses, that you see them Printing their proud hoofs i’ the receiving earth; For ’tis your thoughts that now must deck our kings, Carry them here and there; jumping o’er times, Turning the accomplishment of many years Into an hour-glass: for the which supply, Admit me Chorus to this history; Who prologue-like your humble patience pray, Gently to hear, kindly to judge, our play. Lilith performed this prologue with her Shakespeare camp this summer. It gave me chills every time I heard her practice her lines, and forevermore she will be my Muse of Fire. The image accompanying this scent is from the morning of her performance. Lilith, you inspire me every day. Your love of Shakespeare has reinvigorated my own, and it means the world to me that we have this to share with one another. My little Muse of Fire: an explosion of rainbow-hued flower petals dusted in sugar. [seriously… you have no idea how it made me feel to hear Lilith recite lines from Henry V. I still choke up every time I think on it too long, and when this prologue comes to mind, I hear it in her voice.] MY BABY AND A BABY GOAT Look, I just wanted to make a scent for Lilith and this baby goat. Because it makes me happy and BECAUSE LOOK AT IT. LOOK AT THAT BABY GOAT. Fuzzy baby goat musk, goat’s milk accord, wild rice flower, and a little bit of farmer’s market honey. POP! While in London this year, Lilith learned how to blow bubbles with her bubblegum. It may not sound like a big deal, but I really do think that blowing bubbles is one of childhood’s great milestones. It’s a momentous occasion to a 6-year old, and is certainly deserving of commemoration! This is the scent of the bubbles that she popped all over the city: strawberry bubblegum against a backdrop of chilly wind. STICKY EYEBALLS AND FLOPPY ENTRAILS Last year, Lilith helped us set up one of the maze rooms for her school’s Halloween party. Not only did she help prep prop guts, but during the event, she spent some time assisting us by hiding in front of a glass window and throwing eyeballs, dismembered rubber fingers, and entrails at passers-by. I love my kid. Sticky white glops of marshmallow and clotted cream with ropes of sinewy strawberry licorice whips and oozing pink jelly. WALKING THE PRIME MERIDIAN This is the scent of the Royal Observatory at Greenwich on a cold, stormy day in March: ancient oaks and deep green mosses dampened by rain and sea salt. - - - Over at Black Phoenix Trading Post, Teddy has some stories to share about his life as Lilith’s daddy: Lilith, I love you. Those three words are said every day by millions of people with varying degrees of meaning, but those three words cannot convey the depth of feelings I have for you. Beth is my soulmate and I would be lost without her, but you make me want to live forever just so I can see all the amazing things you are capable of. Up until you were born, I felt that my life was great. I had traveled the world, seen and did many wonderful things, but nothing compares to having you hug me and say, “Daddy, I love you.” Just the other day, you said that you are going to learn how to make robots so that when we are old we can put our brains in robot bodies and live forever. I hope that you can do that so I can spend my eternity with you and Beth. I love you. Daddy https://blackphoenixtradingpost.com/category/limited-edition/lilith-2015/ ++ LILITH VICTORIA @ BPTP CATCH ME, DAD “Catch me dad!” she cries, and takes off. How can I ever say no to my best friend? I hope she never loses the joy of running because I will always be ready to run and play with her. Sun-warmed dirt and wildflowers, a whiff of the lavender Lilith loves to use in her hair, and the green leaves of summer just turning to autumn’s russet and brown. EN GARDE Captain Lilith, the scourge of the seven seas has returned. Lilith and her crew were playing a spirited game of Liar’s dice, when the first mate was caught cheating. The captain does not tolerate cheaters on board her vessel and she took the first mate to task. The battle was fierce but quick. Captain Lilith takes no prisoners! “WALK THE PLANK, DAD.” Rum-flavored candies, caramel, pirate tobacco, sugar cane, and vanilla beans. MOVIE NIGHT When I was younger, my life was one huge, fast merry-go-round of bars and dance clubs but I have found that there is nothing better that a lazy evening of a movie and popcorn with my best friend and her Dog Mom Wednesday. My life is full of love and my belly is full of popcorn. What could be better? Popcorn and jelly beans. MUDDY PUDDLES Lilith is never going to let me grow old, and why would I want to? Especially when there are muddy puddles just waiting to be splashed in and mom is waiting with a warm mug of chocolate. I love the rain and my family. The scent of hot chocolate with marshmallows after a long day of puddle-hopping. ONCE UPON A TIME Once upon a time there once was a King and a Princess that both adored books. Every night they would retire to the royal chambers and read together. Sometimes they read about castles. Sometimes they read about superheroes. They would about read about pigs that could fly, exploding cows, purple crayons, and imaginary friends. The stories changed, but always they would lie side by side and enjoy each other’s company. I love my little Princess. I hope we always read stories and make stories together, forever. Our bedtime scent: French lavender, hops, yarrow, Roman chamomile, and a drop of vanilla. TRANQUILITY Sunday mornings are made for the tranquility of a quiet family breakfast. Totally-not-healthy breakfast cereals, spilled milk, a smushed bit of banana, and the last gloopy bits of latte foam. THE WORST PILLOW Lilith and I have a game where I lie down on her like I’m going to sleep and say, “My pillow is lumpy. What a lumpy pillow.” Then I try to fluff up my pillow. She tries to get away while I yell, “COME BACK PILLOW!” This photo was taken while we were in Seattle; laughing and giggling is what we do best. Coffee and junk food room service: a fluffy coffee scent, all pillowy vanilla, caramel, and roasted beans.

Please join Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab every Friday for a roundup of the week's most vitally important news and the occasional paleolithic dirty painting. [ Clickie! ]

Good morning, all! I want to thank everyone for their patience with the Carnaval release. It really does seem to be a series plagued with hiccups! At BPAL, timing plays a huge role. We’re a very small company, and if something goes amiss in the machinery it slams everything up. We time updates in a very specific way: we have to take many things into consideration, including inventory, component availability, production’s capabilities, art and graphic design deadlines, my capacity to write and create formulas... and Carnaval even moreso because there are SO MANY facets to it. If we fuck up in our timing, and a problem in any one of these areas can throw off the timing, a scent or an entire series can go wonky. We’ve had trouble getting Carnaval live for some time, and we were trying to make all the people who had been asking for it for so many years happy. In order to get it live and out the door, the only space available for its release was the time right before DragonCon, so it wouldn’t drown in the subsequent Halloween and Yule updates. It was either go live, or wait until after Lupercalia 2016. If you’ve spent time on the forums, it’s not hard to see that me waiting until next spring would have been a terrible idea, especially since we had everything in-hand except for the cards. So, I made a decision – for good or ill – and we went live with CD. The cards were scheduled to arrive within days of release. The cards arrived, and the printer had made an error. Because we try to go through other small companies as much as possible, we elected to print the pitch cards through the same person that does our tarot cards, as opposed to going through a large-scale printing service. It costs tons more, but the quality is exceptional. Alas, it’s a one-man operation, and when an error occurs, it takes a significant amount of time to rectify. And that brings us to where we are now. The reprints are scheduled to arrive on Monday, and assuming that there are no problems with this batch of cards, the bottlenecked Carnaval orders will begin to ship immediately. Thank you all so much for your patience and kindness. I cannot tell you how much it means to me. - - - - - 8/26 update! All the pitch cards have arrived, except for Mme. Moriarty. We're shipping out all the orders in the queue, including Moriarty, but the cards for Moriarty will ship separately once they arrive.

Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab has created a pair of scents for Dark Delicacies, inspired by Sue and Del’s home states: Elmwood Cemetery for Michigan, and Grove Street Cemetery for Connecticut. ELMWOOD CEMETERY Red baneberry, purple prairie clover, wild bergamot, bloodroot, purple dead-nettle, hemlock, and bog rosemary twined into a waft of frankincense and myrrh. GROVE STREET CEMETERY Lyre-leaved sage, moth mullein, dandelions, and sweet white violet creeping through ancient brownstone walls and crumbling shale. Available exclusively at - www.darkdel.com

Back in 2009, we bottled a hooch-jug of Snake Oil and put it aside in a cool, dark nook. We’ll be selling the fruits of our labor and patience in 100 bottle increments, starting this Friday. Each bottle is $50. We will be making announcements prior to each hundred-bottle release.

Are you in San Diego for Comic Con? Please join us on Thursday, July 9, at the Westgate Hotel for the Comic Book Legal Defense Fund’s SDCC Welcome Party! The festivities start at 8pm. Our exclusives for the CBLDF SDCC Welcome Party – BLACK BAR An obfuscating scent, blocking a sharp, startling burst of fragrance: smoky patchouli, opoponax, ebony musk, and clove layered over King mandarin, pink grapefruit, Damascan plum, and cardamom. BLEEP CENSOR Startlingly loud: Himalayan citron, white musk, and pink peppercorn with peppermint, yuzu fruit, lemon verbena, and green tea absolute. Black Bar and Bleep Censor are $25 each, and the proceeds benefit the Comic Book Legal Defense Fund. We will also have a selection of our catalogue scents that benefit the CBLDF, including our entire Neil Gaiman line. For more information: http://cbldf.org/2015/06/start-your-sdcc-experience-at-the-cbldf-welcome-party-presented-by-image-comics-comixology/

BLUE MOON: JULY 2015 The spirit of the full moon is capricious, intense and passionate, yet still distant, aloof and cold. Luna herself governs glamours, bewitchments and dream-work, innocent wonder, transient pleasure and delight, the Moment, impulse, mystery and veils. The Blue Moon is one of her rarest manifestations, and this scent is formulated to encapsulate her most complex and profound nature: Mugwort and bay, for psychic sensitivity... Myrrh for protection and purity of spirit… Lotus root for true dreaming…Clary sage for euphoria… ... within a crystalline prism of white vegetal musk shimmering with damp violet leaf, tranquil styrax, green tea absolute, and palmarosa. TERRA CALORIS The Land of Heat: red musk flickering with hot red amber, red pepper, scorched thyme, frankincense, green cardamom, and Ceylon cinnamon. Caution: this oil contains cinnamon, and is not suitable for those with sensitive skin. These blends will be available until 6 June 2015. The Blue Moon will be reappearing when the moon itself reappears at the end of the month!

We are THRILLED to announce a scent and memento collaboration inspired by Guillermo Del Toro's Crimson Peak. A million thanks to Guillermo and the wonderful people at Legendary Pictures!

Please join our Georgia crew for Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab’s Dirty South Full Moon event! Sunday, June 28, 4-7pm at Microtel Inn and Suites by Wyndham at Perimeter Center, 6280 Peachtree Dunwoody Road, Atlanta, GA 30328!

If you make a purchase through Dark Delicacies of any of the oils that we have created for Dark Delicacies, you will receive a mysterious bit of horror swag with your order! Available while supplies last! http://www.darkdel.com/index.htm?bpal.htm&1

Bay Area fiends! Please join Audra at Loved To Death and LTD's first Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab Full Moon event! Debuting tonight, a scent that we created exclusively for LTD: LOVED TO DEATH A scent of dark corners and forgotten mysteries, secrets unearthed in dark attics, and cobwebbed, timeworn artifacts: vanilla bean, blackened and smoked, with husky clove, cinnamon bark, and a touch of beeswax. Loved to Death's Black Phoenix Full Moon Event Tonight, June 2nd 6-8pm! 1681 Haight Street San Francisco, CA

Our latest collaboration with Haute Macabre is available for preorder! HauteMacabre.com/Shop ESBAT The silent rays of the full moon piercing the shadows of an ancient grove: a ragged canopy of moonflower and morning glory, dew-touched mosses creeping over gnarled oak roots, and shimmering beams of mugwort, cuckoo flower, and rose mallow.