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But on what could an impression be left? An impression of such a nature becomes a material thing and implies a material nexus, however subtle. So far as we know there are only two things there, the air and the ether. The air is a mobile thing and could not carry a permanent impression. But is the ether a mobile thing? It is pictured as a most delicate medium with vibrating currents flowing in it, but it seems to me that a most tenuous jelly with quivers and thrills would be a closer analogy. We could conceive the whole material universe embedded in and interpenetrated by this subtle material, which would not necessarily change its position since it is too fine for wind or any coarser material to influence it. I feel that I am rushing in where even Lodges fear to tread, but if it should prove to be as I suggest then we should have that permanent screen on which shadows are thrown. The block of ether upon the stairs is the same that it always was, and so conveys the impression from the past. the Edge of the Unknown, Arthur Conan Doyle Gentle, almost imperceptible, permeating all things: pale amber vibrating with ambergris and a thread of lavender. This is one of the purest, most beautiful lavenders I've ever smelled. It's up there with Hidden Purpose bath oil! It's the perfect balance between floral and herbal lavender, with just a hint of salty, spicy ambergris enhancing it. The ambergris gets more prominent as it dries down, with more of a 50/50 balance between that soft ocean scent and the lavender. It's amazingly, and yes, a little ethereal. I'm probably going to need more bottles.
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Practical Occultism consists, first, of a perfect mastery of the individual’s own spirit. No advance whatever can be made in acquiring power over other spirits, such as controlling the lower or supplicating the higher, until the spirit within has acquired such perfect mastery of itself, that it can never be moved to anger or emotion—realizes no pleasure, cares for no pain; experiences no mortification at insult, loss, or disappointment—in a word, subdues every emotion that stirs common men’s minds. To arrive at this state, severe and painful as well as long continued discipline is necessary. Having acquired this perfect equilibrium, the next step is power. The individual must be able to wake when he pleases and sleep when he pleases; go in spirit during bodily sleep where he will, and visit—as well as remember when awake—distant scenes. He must be enabled by practice, to telegraph, mentally, with his fellow associates, and present himself, spiritually, in their midst. He must, by practice, acquire psychological control over the minds of any persons—not his associates—beneath his own calibre of mind. He must be able to still a crying infant, subdue fierce animals or angry men, and by will, transfer his thought without speech or outward sign to any person of a mental calibre below himself; he must be enabled to summon to his presence elementary spirits, and if he desires to do so (knowing the penalties attached), to make them serve him in the special departments of Nature to which they belong. He must, by virtue of complete subjugation of his earthly nature, be able to invoke Planetary and even Solar Spirits, and commune with them to a certain degree. To attain these degrees of power the processes are so difficult that a thorough practical occultist can scarcely become one and yet continue his relations with his fellow-men. He must continue, from the first to the last degree, a long series of exercises, each one of which must be perfected before another is undertaken. A practical occultist may be of either sex, but must observe as the first law inviolable chastity—and that with a view of conserving all the virile powers of the organism. No aged person, especially one who has not lived the life of strict chastity, can acquire the full sum of the powers above named. It is better to commence practice in early youth, for after the meridian of life, when the processes of waste prevail over repair, few of the powers above described can be attained; the full sum never. Strict abstinence from animal food and all stimulants is necessary. Frequent ablutions and long periods of silent contemplation are essential. Codes of exercises for the attainment of these powers can be prescribed, but few, if any, of the self-indulgent livers of modern times can perform their routine. The arts necessary for study to the practical occultist are, in addition to those prescribed in speculative occultism, a knowledge of the qualities of drugs, vapors, minerals, electricity, perfumes, fumigations, and all kinds of anæsthetics. And now, having given in brief as much as is consistent with my position—as the former associate of a secret society—I have simply to add, that, whilst there are, as in Masonry, certain preliminary degrees to pass through, there are numerous others to which a thoroughly well organized and faithful association might advance. In each degree there are some valuable elements of practical occultism demanded, whilst the teachings conveyed are essential preliminaries. In a word, speculative occultism must precede practical occultism; the former is love and wisdom, the latter, simply power. A Victorian occultist’s incense, invoking the Four Archangels: precious wildcrafted Indian frankincense with myrrh, cassia, sandarac, palmarosa, white sage, red sandalwood, elemi, and drops of star anise bound with grains of kyphi. In the bottle: kyphi! A fruity, wine-y kyphi scent with lots of cassia and a bit of anise. On skin: glorious spicy kyphi. This smells less like Cairo’s lemongrassy-rosy take on kyphi, not as wine-y or ashen as Philosopher in Meditation, it’s more like the kyphi note from the Oak and Kyphi atmosphere spray, or the Chthonic Kyphi incense from TAL. It’s spicy, resinous and complex. Cinnamon/cassia is the most obvious note, but it’s also full of myrrh, frankincense, red wine and honeyed raisins, there’s also a hint of fuzzy sage to it as well. The anise isn’t there any more. I absolutely love the resinous spicy scent this has. It reminds me a bit of Haloa but without the foody notes. It also reminds me of Egg Moon’s cinnamon frankincense. After a while: it doesn’t change too much but I think the honey and wine aspects of the kyphi become more obvious. The resins deepen further, the cassia becomes warmer. The myrrh is wonderful in here, it reminds me of the myrrh in Priala, especially with the cinnamon, but not as smoky. Something about it reminds me of a couple of last year’s phoenix scents. Verdict: probably the best kyphi scent by BPAL so far. If you are a kyphi lover, you must get this. It’s brimming with spice and resin and honeyed wine, all in balance. Yule is a perfect time for this scent to be on sale, there’s something almost festive to it because of the combination of red wine and cinnamon, frankincense and myrrh, at times it reminds me of mulled wine in a church during a Christmas service, but it’s got that undertone of mystery and darkness hinting at more ancient, occult origins for this particular incense blend. The great thing is that it’s cinnamony but doesn’t burn my skin. I’m glad I took a chance on this as it’s perfect, I think it will age amazingly. Is it a keeper? for sure. Maybe a backup? If you like this, try: Egg Moon, Pliny’s Phoenix, Tacitus’s Phoenix, Priala the Human Phoenix, Oak Leaves and Kyphi atmosphere spray, Saturnian Phoenix, Philosopher in Meditation, Haloa, Cairo, Saint Foutin de Varailles, Valentine of Rome
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"The case I allude to is that of an invalid woman who belongs to the humblest class of society. She is nearly thirty years old and very ignorant; her look is neither fascinating nor endowed with the power which modern criminologists call irresistible; but when she wishes, be it by day or by night, she can divert a curious group for an hour or so with the most surprising phenomena. Either bound to a seat or firmly held by the hands of the curious, she attracts to her the articles of furniture which surround her, lifts them up, holds them suspended in the air like Mahomet’s coffin, and makes them come down again with undulatory movements, as if they were obeying her will. She increases their weight or lessens it according to her pleasure. She raps or taps upon the walls, the ceiling, the floor, with fine rhythm and cadence. In response to the requests of the spectators, something like flashes of electricity shoot forth from her body, and envelop her or enwrap the spectators of these marvellous scenes. She draws upon cards that you hold out, everything that you want – figures, signatures, numbers, sentences – by just stretching out her hand toward the indicated place. “If you place in the corner of the room a vessel containing a layer of soft clay, you find after some moments the imprint in it of a small or a large hand, the image of a face (front view or profile) from which a plaster cast can be taken. In this way portraits of a face taken at different angles have been preserved, and those who desire so to do can thus make serious and important studies. “This woman rises in the air, no matter what bands tie her down. She seems to lie upon the empty air, as on a couch, contrary to all the laws of gravity; she plays on musical instruments – organs, bells, tambourines – as if they had been touched by her hands or moved by the breath of invisible gnomes… This woman at times can increase her stature by more than four inches. —Chiaia, in a letter to Lombroso Pale lilacs, white tea, and candle wax. The Lab's candlewax always starts out with a burst of citrus (to my nose, at least), in this case a light clementine-juice scent that obscures the lilac completely while wet. 10 min: Spicy? Tingly-spicy? I'm not sure where that's coming from, but the white tea comes out too, with the lilacs. 20 min: Lilac gets a bad rap around here sometimes, and I was really rooting for it, but the beeswax is making the floral part smell a bit sour and sweaty. It's a very light and inoffensive scent, but when I get in close to the wrist to go "where my lilacs at" it smells like someone holding a lilac bloom crushed in a sweaty fist. 25 min: Sweaty part over. Soft, light, citrussy floral. Flowery but not distinctively lilac. Verdict: Not for me. [EDIT: I don't know when I'm going to learn that it really does make a difference to let scents settle after coming here in the post, but this one was pretty different on second test. Way more wax, no weird citrus, a warm and sweet beeswax scent with a distinct high-toned floral. Though it still doesn't really smell like lilacs to me? I have no idea.]
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CRAZED THROUGH “OUIJA”Neglected by Her Lover She Seeks Comfort of a Fortune-Telling Device BRIDGEPORT, Conn., Nov. 20.— Mrs. Eugenia Carpenter, a young woman living at 221 Myrtle, av., has been receiving attention from a young man who very recently ceased to call upon her. Mrs. Carpenter bought a fortune-telling board called “ouija,” and from it received the prediction that her suitor would not return to her. Last night she was found wandering almost nude in the streets. Her reason was gone and at intervals she cried out “Ouija said so and I knew it was true.” November 21st 1891 Boston Daily Globe Redwood and bois de rose with white lilac, dried pink roses, and black tea. Oooh, this is a very nice blend indeed. The redwood mingles effortlessly with the bois de rose and dried pink roses. The lilac is present but in no way overpowering. All of the florals together make for a gorgeously elegant and refined perfume. Makes me want to recline on a chaise lounge and fan myself with a peacock feather fan. Honourable mention for the black tea - just what this blend needs. The tea deepens the florals and adds mystery. This is going to age beautifully. 10/10
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The desire to inflict a mortal wound on the monster, Superstition, which, from a similar origin, a few centuries ago, inflicted on European society so vast an amount of misery, and by whose influence not hundreds, but thousands, of innocent persons died in tortures, on the rack and at the stake; the desire made me wish to make the experiment, if possible, of bringing a highly sensitive person, by night, to a churchyard. I thought it possible that they might see, over graves where mouldering bodies lay, something like that which Billing had seen. Eucalyptus blossom, lime rind, and white mint coalescing into a green-tinged amber glow. In the bottle this is soft and green. Sweet lime, zingy but not sour and puckering with the softest most gentle eucalyptus I have ever smelled. I normally think of eucalyptus as purely utilitarian for use in aromatherapy bath products, but I never find it pleasant or wearable (in regards to perfume). Beth has completely transformed the possibilities of this note for me. It dries down into a truly eerie green scent. Light mint (not a chilly mint) with the lime, eucalyptus, and amber all softly mingling. I cannot stress enough how gentle this blend is, despite the potential of the notes for being bright or bracing. Very soothing and relaxing, perfect for hectic winter celebrations.
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Inquiries into the Philosophy and Phenomena of Spiritualism should procure admission to Mr. Morse’s Seances at 15, Southampton Road Holborn, London on Friday Evenings at Eight O’Clock. Don’t be late: polished teakwood, pipe smoke, sugar-clouded absinthe, vetiver, and rum musk. This smells like manly butterscotch at first! Or perhaps like Hot Buttered Whiskey and Tag Upon Avon had a love child. It's a very warm scent, and the tobacco and rum mix to create a sweet, chewy, butteriness. I don't really get much absinthe except maybe when I first put it on, but that's probably part of what's reminding me of Tag Upon Avon. The teakwood is subtle at first, but comes out more in the dry down and grounds the fragrance, keeping the sweetness from turning syrupy, like it is (IMHO) in Hot Buttered Whiskey. This is boozy, but gentler than HBW. I think it could be a cousin of Perversion actually. Very nice. I would totally want to nibble on a guy who smelled like this, but I think it would equally well for a woman.
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In Mr. Campbell Holms book, The Facts of Psychic Science, which is, and will be always, a most exact and valuable book of reference, there are a number of cases given where people have been transported through solid objects. Inexperienced and foolish people may jeer, but they will find it easier to do so than to refute the evidence. For example, upon June 3rd, 1871, Mrs. Guppy was floated from her own house in Highbury, and appeared upon the table of a room at 61 Lambs Conduit Street, where a séance was being held behind locked doors. A document was signed by the eleven sitters to testify to the fact and they had no possible object in perjuring themselves about the matter. Mrs. Guppy said that the last thing she could remember was sitting with her friend Miss Neyland. That lady deposed that Mrs. Guppy had suddenly vanished from her sight. Four of the sitters accompanied Mrs. Guppy home and heard what her friend had to say. It is difficult to find any flaw in such evidence and it would certainly have been conclusive in a court of law had it been a criminal case. But surely such a transposition is more remarkable than any of Houdinis, and had she done similar things in public her reputation would have been similar to his own. the Edge of the Unknown, Arthur Conan Doyle A séance in progress: polished oak and oxblood leather, rivulets of beeswax, a splash of rose water, and a pulsating throb of ectoplasm. This makes me happy. It's a rather masculine blend, and what comes across when I spray it ON something is mostly the oak with a hint of leather. It smells like a very nice "man office/study" with polished wood cabinets and svelte, leather furniture. In the AIR, the beeswax becomes the dominant feature to my nose, with a bit of spicy wood filling in the background. It's not a heavy scent, and there's something lovely and clean about it, along with something decidedly proper.
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A tribute to Lajos Pap, a spiritualist medium whose specialty was apporting snakes, lizards, rats, and frogs – live and dead – during séance. A pattering of night-creatures: indigo musk and patchouli croaking with oakmoss and a skittering of gleaming black olibanum. In the Bottle: Inky and dry in the bottle. Very intriguing. The oakmoss is apparent On the Skin: That indigo musk is stunning - slinky and velvety dark. Quite resinous, initially but the musk adds a gorgeous elegance. I like the use of the word "skittering" in the description because this is slick, dark and dry reminiscent of an insect carapace. On the Drydown: I almost get a dark purple (indigo?) floral from this. It is truly magnificent and dark as night.
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In certain cases, emotionally charged complexes of representation, which have become autonomous and dissociated, seem to automatically and compulsively press for discharge and realisation through haunting phenomena…. Hence, the so-called haunting occurs in place of a neurosis. —Albert von Schrenck-Notzing Repressed rage, terror, and subjugated sexuality erupting through fierce bursts of uncontrollable psychic phenomena: black leather and red musk with aged black patchouli, Chinese rose, black pepper, coconut meat, Haitian vetiver, and igneous red ginger. I bought this one because every single note appealed to me. I expected it to be dark and sexy and yeah - that's just what this is. Now, when I first opened it the leather note slapped me in the face and I was, for a brief moment, worried. The only other leather blend I can handle is Whip and I really have to be in the mood for it. I sniffed nervously and then skin-tested it on my wrist, hoping that the leather would calm down soon and let it's fellow notes have their say. I'm happy (and relieved) to report that as soon as the oil reached drydown, the leather was whispering instead of shouting and the red musk, patchouli and coconut were right where I needed them. I absolutely love red musk blends and this is no exception. Altogether, this blend is extremely dark and powerful but also sweet (the coconut) and very slightly spicy. This is the perfect unisex blend and so far, my favourite of the Spiritualism collection. I think that in a year's time, this is going to be one of the sexiest blends I own and will be reserved for extra special date nights and very private moments. Shadowy, hot and visceral. 10/10!
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As performed by Griffiths Quadrille Band in a Mysteriously Effective Manner and Dedicated to all Lovers of “the Mysterious”. It really was a thing. Rose musk with pink and black pepper, a splash of bay rum, tobacco absolute, and toffee. In the bottle: Dark toffee with something sharp in the background, perhaps the rum. Fresh out of the mailbox this did not smell good but now that it's rested a bit it's much better. Wet on skin: The rose musk and the pink and black pepper come out. The pepper is making this unexpectedly spicy, almost a bit savory until the rum and tobacco come more to the foreground. Dry: I'm getting a sweet musky, spicy tobacco. I tend to amp sweetness so this would probably smell great on a man as well. I would imagine this will get even better with age.
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I can only consider departed spirits and ministering angels, as one innumerable company continually surrounding us. And are they not as nearly united to their fellow soldiers now, as when in the body ! What should hinder ? Gratitude and affection are natives of heaven, and live for ever. Forgetfulness is a property of mortality, and drops off with the body. Therefore, they that loved us in the Lord, will surely love us for ever. Can anything material interrupt the sight or presence of a spirit ? Nay,— ‘Walk within walls no more the passage bar, Than unopposing space of liquid air.’ – the British Spiritual Telegraph, Vol. 3 No. 6, April 1859 Blackened opoponax and frankincense smoke shrouded in wilted roses, black taffeta, and tear-stained lace. A deliciate, somber, soft rose...this scent reminds me of Antique Lace and the Best Lies with some incense wafting through. The rose is pink and faded but still slightly juicy, with a bit of muskiness, but darkened to a lovely sepia around the edges. Wistful and unassuming, but still well estabilished.... I can see this scent fitting in nicely anywhere.
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The protoplasmic ooze results in man. It arrives at thoughts and emotions, it builds lofty ideals and great civilisations. The objector urges that this proof of progress is no proof of the permanence of any personality. No proof, but certainly no suggestion of disproof. Again, we find no trace of waste. Change and the revolution of one form of matter into another are evident to us, but no waste, no loss, is anywhere discoverable. The noblest product of the universe so far as we are certain of it is the rounded and accomplished personality of man. Why should nature everywhere display her absolute incapacity to cast away an atom of her lowest product, and yet be able to plunge into nothingness her very greatest? – the Occult Review, January 1905 A pretense of civility, the height of anthropocentric arrogance: a lime-washed gentleman’s fougere with a pinch of snuff, an insouciant whiff of gin, and the memory of an amorphous, sluggish, protoplasmic greenness. This is what Arthur Conan Doyle’s Tobias Gregson would smell like. A Victorian man, rough-edged but not uncivilized; not outstanding, but dogged; he gets the job done — no matter what. Lime and gin in the bottle. Goes on as a fresh lime cologne. A light tobacco note comes in — is that the snuff? Continues into a masculine cologne and finishes as a somewhat generic lime aftershave. A first cousin to John Watson (the scents, not the characters). This would probably be amazing on a gentleman, but I am a lady.
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Herewith we present the public with a most accurate, well executed likeness of Dr. Henry Slade, the celebrated medium and clairvoyar who has so confounded science, startled orthodoxy, given the lie to old beliefs, and lead minds into new channels, through his powerful mediumship. As the pubic are always anxious to see the faces of extraordinary men, they will scan carefully the likeness here given. – Pomeroy’s Democrat, September 20, 1873. Bay rum and lemongrass with black pepper, cardamom pod, pine resin, red sandalwood, and cedar. the bay rum and lemongrass give this a centerpiece of rich magical voodoo oils, surrounded by a very light hint of spices and an absolutely swoonworthy woods combo. the whole blend is fantastic, gorgeous, amazing, kinda classy. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VmSRcOUmLK8
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At a late period in the evening, after nearly three hours of experiment, Mrs Hayden having risen, and talking at another table while taking refreshment, a child suddenly called out, Will all the spirits who have been here this evening rap together? The words were no sooner uttered than a hailstorm of knitting-needles was heard, crowded into certainly less than two seconds; the big needle sounds of the men, and the little ones of the women and children, being clearly distinguishable, but perfectly disorderly in their arrival. Augustus de Morgan Polished mahogany and black tea with a clatter of vanilla husk and oak wood. In the bottle this is vanilla tea with a little bit of dark polished wood underneath and it stays true on my skin. A deep rich vanilla tea, with the woods coming in for support. Elegant and cozy.
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Dr. E. S. Packard, of Corunna, Me., in the Eastern Star, states that Mr. David Prescott, of South Sangerville, over ninety years of age, “wandered away into the woods, and not returning, a crowd of over a hundred men hunted for him nearly two days; the mill pond near his house was drained. Search was made in every direction but to no success. “A gentleman of that place decided to call in the aid of Mrs. Stevens; she told him somebody was lost, and not being able to visit the place she drew a map or chart of the locality, giving directions, by which, on his return he was immediately found alive, but died the next day. The day following I was at South Sangerville, and stopping at this gentleman’s house, examined the map, which was perfect in every respect. The house and shed were correctly drawn, the mill and pond near the house were marked, the field and woods, two fences over which Mr. Prescott must climb, even to the swinging of the road by the house was definitely given. “The spot where she said he was, was shown by a large black mark, and he was found exactly in that place. When we consider that Mrs. Stevens never saw this place in her normal condition, it is to me a wonderful test of spirit power.” Absolute and perfect clarity: rockrose, white amber, Corsican immortelle, Siamese benzoin, white sandalwood, and life everlasting. Sniffed, I get clouds of sweet sandalwood incense and white cotton -- not "clean laundry," but something white and cottony and opaque. I think this particular iteration of white amber is doing the powdery thing. It's not floral-forward, though the flowers advance as the blend wears down. Mostly, it's reading as benzoin/sandalwood dusting powder. There's a non-foody but vanilla-like sweetness (probably the benzoin, which contains vanillin). Also, somehow, the blend smells white. The vanilla-resin-powderyness makes me place it in the XYZ Lace family of Lab blends (e.g. Antique Lace, Black Lace, Red Lace). So this is... Psychic Lace.
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During the year 1896 considerable stir was created by the investigation of Dr. Hippolyte Baraduc, of Paris, in the line of “Thought Photography,” which is of interest to psychic investigators generally. Dr. Baraduc claimed to have gotten photographic impressions of his thoughts, “made without sunlight or electricity or contact of any material kind.” These impressions he declared to be subjective, being his own personal vibrations, the result of a force emanating from the human personality, supra-mechanical, or spiritual. The experiments were carried on in a dark room, and according to his statement were highly successful. In a communication to an American correspondent, printed in the New York Herald, January 3, 1897, he writes: “I have discovered a human, invisible light, differing altogether from the cathode rays discovered by Prof. Roentgen.” Dr. Baraduc advanced the theory that our souls must be considered as centers of luminous forces, owing their existence partly to the attraction and partly to the repulsion of special and potent forces bred of the invisible cosmos. A number of French scientific journals took up the matter, and discussed “Thought Photography” at length, publishing numerous reproductions of the physician’s photographs; but the more conservative journals of England, Germany and America remained silent on the subject, as it seemed to be on the borderland [Pg 199]between science and charlatanry. On January 11, 1897, the American newspapers contained an item to the effect that Drs. S. Millington Miller and Carleton Simon, of New York City, the former a specialist in brain physiology, and the latter an expert hypnotist, had succeeded in obtaining successful thought photographs on dry plates from two hypnotized subjects. When the subjects were not hypnotized, the physicians reported no results. As “Thought Photography” is without the pale of known physical laws, stronger evidence is needed to support the claims made for it than that which has been adduced by the French and American investigators. “Thought Photography” once established as a scientific fact, we shall have, perhaps, an explanation of genuine spirit photographs, if such there be. – Hours With the Ghosts; Or XIX Century Witchcraft by Henry R. Evans Mercury-limned lavender, palo santo, and ambrette seed. First impressions from a bottle that landed this morning: I know some people associate lavender with sleep scents, old lady smells and/or medicine, and kudos for all of those things, but thought photography is a blend that shows her potential as a sophisticated note in an elegant perfume. Beautiful strong musky lavender, reminding me of bpal's 18 June 1860. Not getting much Palo Santo at this time. Big throw and great longevity.
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They are imps of the kitchen, or drawing-room at most; and, if any spirit answers to their sphere, it must be those of unclaimed and disaffected ghosts, who, having no substance within themselves, out of which to compound a spiritual body, wander about church-yards, or haunt the localities where they enacted old crimes, or lived frivolous and disjointed lives. … It may be that the spirits called the Rappers… belong to this class. They are in, what Dante would call Limbo, driven to and fro, perturbed and lonely. These eagerly question the finer spirits, who pass through their realm on their way to higher spheres, of all the gossip that used to interest them on earth. But, inasmuch as the companionship of these people was in no way desirable while they lived in this world, they become less so when separated from the body. They are the gossips of ghost land, poor, frivolous, flimsy wretches, who receive the shred of thought here, and the shadows only of through in the spirit world, for all thought has a body and a substance as it were to itself, so that we say a thought may be grasped in anticipation of the fact hereafter; hence, thought finding no lodgment in these thin poor spirits, floats right through them. They have a restless desire for tangibility, and are perpetually trying to command material objects in a way to make themselves known. —d’Espérance, 1897 Idle poltergeists and truant phantoms loitering in darkened corners and shadowed hallways: black cedar, patchouli, and tea leaf spiked with a tittering cackle of pink peppercorn, mate, and lime rind. Gossips of Ghost Land is kind of a wild olfactory ride. First applied, it's definitely cedar and patchouli, with something that feels minty but might be the lime? The tea leaf, mate, and pink peppercorn add color and movement so it does smell restless, like different spirits moving around in the dark. Dry, this is primarily patchouli and tea leaf on me, with cedar lingering but not dominant. (I don't amp cedar, though, for the record.) The pink peppercorn and lime smooth into an interesting layer that adds subtle spice and freshness. The sillage smells a bit like chocolate, which is so weird and fun. The overall effect is really unusual and perfectly evocative—there's something a bit disturbing about this one, in the best way. I'm definitely hanging on to my bottle because the progression is so fascinating and the patch/tea leaf drydown is really nice.
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A peculiar manifestation of light produced by physical mediums during ectoplasmic séances: otherworldly snaps of ozone glowing with unearthly light. This is a tough one for me to describe. It's definitely heavy on the ozone, but unlike any of the lab's other ozone scents. It is unisex/masculine with a subtly sweet cologne-y note, aquatic, and something that smells kinda like basil without being bitter. It has a vague tinny quality that would make it suitable for the Steamworks line, but also something that reminds me of smooth, light-coloured wood.
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My most remarkable experience has been with Dr. H. Slade of New York, for whom I have formed a high regard. I first met him at his residence last November, when, without announcing my name, in three consecutive sittings, at eleven o’clock in the morning, seated at a small, bare table in the centre of a light room, there written on the under side of a slate placed on the table, several communications addressed to me, purporting to come from my deceased friends. I pass over the other manifestations – such as the movement of heavy articles of furniture in plain view, without visible contact – and confine myself to the writing on the slate, which I regarded with most interest… – Thos. W. Waterman, Binghamton, NY, July 14, 1873 The result of a physical law which is not yet understood, and the existence of which has hitherto scarcely been suspected: beeswax candles, chalk, and dust. In the Bottle: Rich beewax and a little bit of a dusty background On the Skin: The beautiful lab beeswax note, rich and sweet. The dry chalky note and dust emerges quite quickly to dry out the blend and tone down the sweetness of the beeswax. I am loving the chalkiness. On the Drydown: Stays fairly consistent through the drydown as a dusty beeswax but the beeswax amps up every now and then. I love it.
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Undoubtedly the greatest marvel of Spiritualism is the materialisation of the spirit form. It is highly interesting to study the gradual development of this phenomenon. It was not till some years after the advent of modern Spiritualism that materialisation was heard of. At first the spirits had power only to materialise a hand or foot, and that very imperfectly; then they were able to produce faces, several sometimes showing at one séance; but even at that time the spirits prophesied that the time would shortly come when they should be able to materialise a complete human form, and walk about in our midst. That time has now come. On two occasions I have witnessed the phenomenon of a spirit reincarnating itself — putting on a material body and dress — the body to all intents a human body, and the dress fabric of earthly produce. The spirit has not suddenly burst on my view in a perfected form, but slowly evolved out of nothingness before my eyes, and again melted away, repeating the process again and again! – Experiences in Spiritualism: A Record of Extraordinary Phenomena Witnessed Through the Most Powerful Mediums, With Some Historical Fragments Relating to Semiramide, Given by the Spirit of and Egyptian Who Lived Contemporary With Her by Catherine Berry A quiet perfume that emerges slowly out of nonbeing: white musk, ambergris accord, coconut, almond milk, and honeysuckle. Wispy, ethereal and enchanting. When first applied, the coconut leads the way, accompanied by the ambergris and almond milk, but it never strikes me as foody. Once it settles in, the musk and honeysuckle show up and I find I'm in love. Almost defies classification. It's not gourmand, not especially floral, but utterly lovely. Definitely back up bottle worthy.
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In examining and reporting these cases the witnesses averred that certain people, whom they called “materializing mediums,” had the strange physical gift that they could put forth from their bodies a viscous, gelatinous substance which appeared to differ from every known form of matter in that it could solidify and be used for material purposes, and yet could be reabsorbed, leaving absolutely no trace even upon the clothes which it had traversed in leaving the body. This substance was actually touched by some enterprising investigators, who reported that it was elastic and appeared to be sensitive, as though it was really an organic extrusion from the medium's body. —Arthur Conan Doyle, 1930 A luminous, viscid blend of white amber, lemongrass, white oakmoss, and davana. This is everything I hoped for. I'm not the world's biggest fan of lemongrass but I knew Beth would do something beautiful with it, something magical to take the harsh edge away, and that's exactly what she's done. This is a bright, juicy lemongrass that is tempered by the white amber. It has a sharpness when wet that completely disappears on the drydown. When dry and settled on my skin, it turns into an ethereal citrus that is uplifting and moreish. I adore this.
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If then, man, in every act, leaves the impression, or daguerreotype of his mental being upon the scenes of his life and the subjects of his action, we are by this law furnished with a new clue to the history of our race; and I think it highly probable, that, by the application of this principle, the chasms of history may be supplied, and a glimpse may be obtained of unrecorded ages and nations, whose early history is lost in darkness. The ancient manuscripts, paintings, and other works of art, which still exist – the crucifixes, garments, armor, and other ancient relics, still preserved – are doubtless still instinct with the spirit that produced them, and capable of revealing to psychometric exploration, the living realities with which they were once connected. At present, these relics are barren of significance. Their hidden meaning lies waiting the future explorer, as the hieroglyphics of Egypt awaited the arrival of Champillion to interpret their significance. And why should not the world be filled with the monuments and unwritten records of its past history? It would seem, to the superficial thinker, that man was entirely limited to tradition and written records for his knowledge of the past; but physical science proves, that the world possesses, embodied in enduring monuments, the story of its progressive existence. The geologist finds, in the different strata of the earth, in its curiously mingled and irregular structure, and in the fossil remains which it conceals in its bosom, the history of its various changes of surface, and of the antediluvian races of animals which have long been extinct. The huge Saurian monsters, which he portrays from their fossil relics, rise before the eye as incredible chimeras. And over this fertile region, now occupied by prosperous States, he revives, by the magic power of science, the antediluvian seas and their strange inhabitants, unknown to man. The Past is entombed in the Present! The world is its own enduring monument; and that which is true of its physical, is likewise true of its mental career. The discoveries of Psychometry will enable us to explore the history of man, as those of geology enable us to explore the history of the earth. There are mental fossils for psychologists as well as mineral fossils for the geologists; and I believe that hereafter the psychologist and the geologist will go hand in hand — the one portraying the earth, its animals and its vegetation, while the other portrays the human beings who have roamed over its surface in the shadows, and the darkness of primeval barbarism! Aye, the mental telescope is now discovered which may pierce the depths of the past and bring us in full view of the grand and tragic passages of ancient history! I know that, to many of my readers, unaccustomed to these investigations, and unacquainted with the first experimental facts of this great science, these anticipations must seem a visionary hope – too grand, too romantic, too transcendently beautiful to be true. But observe, that all is based upon familiar experiments, and these results are but legitimate deductions from familiar facts. As surely as the expansive power of steam gives premonition of the ocean steamship, does the power of Psychometry give promise of all the glorious performance to which I have alluded. —Buchanan, 1842 A tactile scent, groaning under the weight of aeons: wild fig, cedarwood, venerable ti leaf, and white sage. In vitro: Woody figgy. I love wood and I love figs. Let's do this. Wet on skin: The cedar and sage predominate, with the fig adding juicy sweetness. The sage contributes a very clean feeling that could strike people as smelling like really nice shampoo (Tabella did the same), but I am cool with that (I have three bottles of Tabella). Delicious, multi-dimensional cedar. Dry: Sillage is very close to the skin. This actually reminds me quite a bit of a more chilled-out Tabella, less bright and sharp, just fig and cedar and sage hanging out together. There's nothing flashy about this, in fact, but it's still compelling and substantial. It's a classy, calm, and wise scent, like meditating in a forest. Definitely unisex; I wouldn't call it masculine, but nevertheless this would probably be lovely on a guy. The sage gets stronger on drydown and reminds me of one of my favourite places in the world, the Mojave desert in southwestern Utah. Love it.
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The breath and tears and pulse of all life; the fluid that flows through all creation, permeating space and time and spirit: olibanum, red benzoin absolute, labdanum, betel leaf, galbanum, mastic, and angelica. Oh wow! Strong benzoin and labdanum, with a hint of angelica - this is stunning on application! Something slightly peppery comes out as it dries, I'm assuming this is the betel leaf (I have no clue what that smells like, so I'm guessing here), and it complements the sweet resins beautifully. Olibanum is very faint, I can barely tell it's there, but it gives this a smoky undertone. I don't smell any galbanum or mastic at this stage, but it's a great blend, especially for lovers of sweet incense resins, which I am. Near final dry-down I can detect a little more olibanum, a touch of mastic and now definitely some galbanum with its green-woody-rooty notes. Star players remain the benzoin and labdanum, making the blend sweet, dark-vanillic and rich, with the rooty, herbacious and deep green note of galbanum right alongside. I'm loving this already, and it's going to age spectacularly - very glad I got a bottle!
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In the month of December, another fair American medium arrived in England. This lady and her husband, Dr. Roberts, attended a course of lectures I was then delivering in Providence Chapel, upon Mesmerism and Animal Magnetism. They introduced themselves to me, and invited me to visit them. I did so, many times; and to them do I owe much; for, through the information I received from them, I have been enabled to inquire more fully into this soul-stirring, and very important subject, after several Seances at Mrs. Roberts's in Dyer's Buildings, Holborn [MD: original], where I witnessed the moving of the table in various directions. This is what is called “Table-turning,” and which has been attributed to Electricity or Animal Magnetism, by many intelligent and scientific persons… I have seen a loo-table suspended in the air, at least six inches from the ground, without anyone in the body touching it. —Hardinge, 1854 A heavy, tactile scent that thrums with voices from beyond: black polished teakwood, gullies of ectoplasm, and ghostly white musk. Wet: Starts out unpleasant. Strong camphor scent and sharp lemon. Dry down: This ones a real morpher. Camphor goes away almost immediately and the sharpness of the lemon starts to subside. Musk makes its appearance and I swear I smell vanilla. Dry: Okay, this is not what I was expecting but its actually very nice. Sweet lemony tea, vanilla, and musk with a wood smell underneath. I never would have said that it was specifically Teakwood.
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The new discovery of “Table Moving,” by means of an unseen power from the human hand, has only been introduced into England within the last few weeks; but it would be difficult to dingle out any scientific subject which has with such rapidity, taken so extensive a hold of the popular mind. If we travel by railway carriage, steamboat, or omnibus, this is the universal topic of conversation. From the aristocratic saloons of Belgravia to the “Parlours” of Whitechapel – the Green Park to the Cat and Mutton Fields, “table moving” is all the rage. From the Royal Institution, where the secretary pokes his head through a forest of electrical apparatus, to inform the audience that the facts are established, down to the humblest Mechanics’ Institute, all are full of it, and the tables, to quote the words of the old song – “are all a moving, move, move, moving,” – Every evening party must of course have its experiments; accordingly, gentlemen come provided with very elegant chapeaux for the occasion, and many an innocent flirtation occurs consequent on the proper arrangement of the little fingers of some of the fair operators. As “sweet eighteen,” with her blue eyes and golden locks, gracefully links her little finger with Charles’s, in a retired corner, what wonder if the hat should tremble? And Charles, being of course fond of poetry (his very name is a guarantee for that), cannot resist softly breathing into Lucy’s ear, that exquisite line from Waller, on his fair one’s harp – “Touched by that hand – who would not tremble too?” And after a little more conversation of a strictly scientific character, they feel quite satisfied with the success of the experiment. Mamma, who has been watching the progress of the magnetic influence at a distance, “has no patience with such nonsense, and wonders young men and young women cannot find something better to do.” She forgets that there was a magnetic influence at work about twenty years since, and what little trifles served as conductors then. – Table Moving, its causes and phenomena: with directions how to experiment A spirit-touched courtship: sweet orange blossom, white honey, jasmine tea, white sandalwood, green apple, and lily of the valley. In the bottle - Very buoyant, happy greenery. Wet - Warm. I get lots of honey. Sweet green springtime scent. Drydown - I'm smelling honey, but thinking nectar. It actually reminds me of the Nectar hair gloss, and I'm picturing a miniature butterfly garden. Tickles my nose a bit. I'd have to re-sniff my decant, but my mind is drawing parallels between this and Venus Verticordia, which I also liked. This has more going on, though. Less grass, more tea. It gets less heavy as it wears. By the end of the day, this was a spectral memory of spring. Verdict - Just lovely. I can't see anyone being offended by this. Might even be a good work scent, since it doesn't have much throw.
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