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Bottled sunshine.
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No further description.
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You work that you may keep pace with the earth and the soul of the earth. For to be idle is to become a stranger unto the seasons, and to step out of life’s procession, that marches in majesty and proud submission towards the infinite. When you work you are a flute through whose heart the whispering of the hours turns to music. Which of you would be a reed, dumb and silent, when all else sings together in unison? Always you have been told that work is a curse and labour a misfortune. But I say to you that when you work you fulfil a part of earth’s furthest dream, assigned to you when that dream was born, And in keeping yourself with labour you are in truth loving life, And to love life through labour is to be intimate with life’s inmost secret. But if you in your pain call birth an affliction and the support of the flesh a curse written upon your brow, then I answer that naught but the sweat of your brow shall wash away that which is written. You have been told also that life is darkness, and in your weariness you echo what was said by the weary. And I say that life is indeed darkness ‘save when there is urge, And all urge is blind save when there is knowledge, And all knowledge is vain save when there is work, And all work is empty save when there is love; And when you work with love you bind yourself to yourself, and to one another, and to God. And what is it to work with love? It is to weave the cloth with threads drawn from your heart, even as if your beloved were to wear that cloth. It is to build a house with affection, even as if your beloved were to dwell in that house. It is to sow seeds with tenderness and reap the harvest with joy, even as if your beloved were to eat the fruit. It is to charge all things you fashion with a breath of your own spirit, And to know that all the blessed dead are standing about you and watching. Often have I heard you say, as if speaking in sleep, “He who works in marble, and finds the shape of his own soul in the stone, is nobler than he who ploughs the soil. And he who seizes the rainbow to lay it on a cloth in the likeness of man, is more than he who makes the sandals for our feet.” But I say, not in sleep but in the overwakefulness of noontide, that the wind speaks not more sweetly to the giant oaks than to the least of all the blades of grass; And he alone is great who turns the voice of the wind into a song made sweeter by his own loving. Work is love made visible. And if you cannot work with love but only with distaste, it is better that you should leave your work and sit at the gate of the temple and take alms of those who work with joy. For if you bake bread with indifference, you bake a bitter bread that feeds but half man’s hunger. And if you grudge the crushing of the grapes, your grudge distils a poison in the wine. And if you sing though as angels, and love not the singing, you muffle man’s ears to the voices of the day and the voices of the night. Work is love made visible, so let’s all chip in and do the work. White sandalwood, fig, bourbon vanilla, and angelica.
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Your joy is your sorrow unmasked. And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears. And how else can it be? The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain. Is not the cup that holds your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter’s oven? And is not the lute that soothes your spirit, the very wood that was hollowed with knives? When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy. When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight. Some of you say, “Joy is greater than sorrow,” and others say, “Nay, sorrow is the greater.” But I say unto you, they are inseparable. Together they come, and when one sits alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed. Verily you are suspended like scales between your sorrow and your joy. Only when you are empty are you at standstill and balanced. When the treasure-keeper lifts you to weigh his gold and his silver, needs must your joy or your sorrow rise or fall. Bittersweet pink grapefruit, golden peach, lime rind, and amber.
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You give but little when you give of your possessions. It is when you give of yourself that you truly give. For what are your possessions but things you keep and guard for fear you may need them tomorrow? And tomorrow, what shall tomorrow bring to the overprudent dog burying bones in the trackless sand as he follows the pilgrims to the holy city? And what is fear of need but need itself? Is not dread of thirst when your well is full, the thirst that is unquenchable? There are those who give little of the much which they have—and they give it for recognition and their hidden desire makes their gifts unwholesome. And there are those who have little and give it all. These are the believers in life and the bounty of life, and their coffer is never empty. There are those who give with joy, and that joy is their reward. And there are those who give with pain, and that pain is their baptism. And there are those who give and know not pain in giving, nor do they seek joy, nor give with mindfulness of virtue; They give as in yonder valley the myrtle breathes its fragrance into space. Through the hands of such as these God speaks, and from behind their eyes He smiles upon the earth. It is well to give when asked, but it is better to give unasked, through understanding; And to the open-handed the search for one who shall receive is joy greater than giving. And is there aught you would withhold? All you have shall some day be given; Therefore give now, that the season of giving may be yours and not your inheritors’. You often say, “I would give, but only to the deserving.” The trees in your orchard say not so, nor the flocks in your pasture. They give that they may live, for to withhold is to perish. Surely he who is worthy to receive his days and his nights, is worthy of all else from you. And he who has deserved to drink from the ocean of life deserves to fill his cup from your little stream. And what desert greater shall there be, than that which lies in the courage and the confidence, nay the charity, of receiving? And who are you that men should rend their bosom and unveil their pride, that you may see their worth naked and their pride unabashed? See first that you yourself deserve to be a giver, and an instrument of giving. For in truth it is life that gives unto life — while you, who deem yourself a giver, are but a witness. And you receivers — and you are all receivers — assume no weight of gratitude, lest you lay a yoke upon yourself and upon him who gives. Rather rise together with the giver on his gifts as on wings; For to be overmindful of your debt, is to doubt his generosity who has the freehearted earth for mother, and God for father. They give that they may live, for to withhold is to perish: pomegranate, rose, myrrh, frankincense, and neroli.
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Would that you could live on the fragrance of the earth, and like an air plant be sustained by the light. But since you must kill to eat, and rob the newly born of its mother’s milk to quench your thirst, let it then be an act of worship, And let your board stand an altar on which the pure and the innocent of forest and plain are sacrificed for that which is purer and still more innocent in man. When you kill a beast say to him in your heart, “By the same power that slays you, I too am slain; and I too shall be consumed. For the law that delivered you into my hand shall deliver me into a mightier hand. Your blood and my blood is naught but the sap that feeds the tree of heaven.” And when you crush an apple with your teeth, say to it in your heart, “Your seeds shall live in my body, And the buds of your tomorrow shall blossom in my heart, And your fragrance shall be my breath, And together we shall rejoice through all the seasons.” And in the autumn, when you gather the grapes of your vineyards for the winepress, say in your heart, “I too am a vineyard, and my fruit shall be gathered for the winepress, And like new wine I shall be kept in eternal vessels.” And in winter, when you draw the wine, let there be in your heart a song for each cup; And let there be in the song a remembrance for the autumn days, and for the vineyard, and for the winepress. Purple fig, honeyed dates, sweet red wine, and apples.
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When love beckons to you, follow him, Though his ways are hard and steep. And when his wings enfold you yield to him, Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you. And when he speaks to you believe in him, Though his voice may shatter your dreams as the north wind lays waste the garden. For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning. Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun, So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth. Tender branches, clinging roots: plum cognac, vetiver caramel, red labdanum, tobacco root, Turkish rose, and nutmeg.
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Everybody knows their state flower and state animal —but do you know what the official LICHEN of your state is? Ramalina menziesii—the lace or fishnet lichen—is an unusually sexy bundle of algae and fungi. Fashioned into elegant, delicate patterns up to a meter long, it is a nest-making material for birds, a vital food source for California’s deer, and is considered to have sorcerous properties that protect against the ravages of lightning. A pale green filigree: oakmoss, orris absolute, ylang ylang sap, green patchouli, ambergris accord, and sheer vanilla.
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You were born together, and together you shall be forevermore. You shall be together when the white wings of death scatter your days. Aye, you shall be together even in the silent memory of God. But let there be spaces in your togetherness, And let the winds of the heavens dance between you. Love one another, but make not a bond of love: Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls. Fill each other’s cup but drink not from one cup. Give one another of your bread but eat not from the same loaf. Sing and dance together and be joyous, but let each one of you be alone, Even as the strings of a lute are alone though they quiver with the same music. Give your hearts, but not into each other’s keeping. For only the hand of Life can contain your hearts. And stand together yet not too near together: For the pillars of the temple stand apart, And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other’s shadow. Red currant-laced vanilla bourbon and orris butter.
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How shall I go in peace and without sorrow? Nay, not without a wound in the spirit shall I leave this city. Long were the days of pain I have spent within its walls, and long were the nights of aloneness; and who can depart from his pain and his aloneness without regret? Too many fragments of the spirit have I scattered in these streets, and too many are the children of my longing that walk naked among these hills, and I cannot withdraw from them without a burden and an ache. It is not a garment I cast off this day, but a skin that I tear with my own hands. Nor is it a thought I leave behind me, but a heart made sweet with hunger and with thirst. A heart made sweet with hunger and thirst: honeyed red musk, red fig, sugared tuberose, and piercing neroli.
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This year we'll be donating to Athlete Ally, a wonderful org striving to help improve LGBTQI+ inclusivity in sports and athletics programs for all ages. They provide resources and curricula for students, teachers, coaches, and teams. https://www.athleteally.org/ "Fear not, for even judgments which seem written in stone will succumb to the passage of time, softened by persistent exposure to the tireless elements, gradually ceding ground to monuments of the new age." A memorial garland of white sandalwood streaked with lapsang souchong, chilled vanilla, and benzoin.
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Thick slices of coconut-frosted coconut cake dunked in a vat of Snake Oil.
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A Winter Solstice gourmand: a ground almond snowpack glistening under a chilly scattering of sugar-bright stars, standing out against a night sky of the darkest cacao.
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A stunningly lovely flower that only grows in California. It is integral to the health of recently burnt areas: its roots spread rapidly, anchoring the soil and preventing further erosion. Vanilla-soaked sweet pea, white sandalwood, and almond milk.
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Fuel and fire for speaking out against injustice: a heap of warm spiced funnel cakes with a scoop of coffee ice cream. Proceeds from this scent will be donated to the American Civil Liberties Union. To learn about how the ACLU will be challenging Trump’s agendas in court, visit them here. Note: If you are confused, the original scent description on the website said cinnamon ice cream. It was mentioned that this was an error and that it should actually be coffee ice cream in a live sniff on Thanksgiving.
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Chase away the sads with a sip from a cheery snowglobe filled with slushy grenadine and lemon-lime soda, topped with a maraschino cherry and illuminated from within by 40 watts of glowing amber.
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Memories of my lifetime in Los Angeles are entwined with California poppies and lupine. In late winter, the hills near my home would be covered with swaths of orange and lilac—of sunbeams and the shadowed colors of dusk. Then in spring it would all die away as quickly as it appeared. When I first moved to Philadelphia, I brought a ton of seeds with me so I could start a small California garden and bring a little of my state’s magic with me. King mandarin, orange, coconut, lilac blossoms, lavender tar, and amber musk.
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A rare wild herb that only grows in California, primarily where fires have recently erupted. A scent of renewal, a vibrant cascade of crimson, orange, and russet: tangerine, scarlet musk, honey absolute, red amber, pink peppercorn, and champaca. Please note: this oil is not vegan.
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Blood musk, red amber, honey, and threads of scarlet saffron.
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Snake Oil slithering into a pan of baked blueberries, blackberries, and raspberries in a warm pastry crust, topped with vanilla ice cream and molasses.
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Sugared vanilla amber with a pop of champagne grape.
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You can cut all the flowers but you cannot keep Spring from coming. ― Pablo Neruda Selections from our general catalog of perfumes may have succumbed to frostbite, but never fear! We haven’t lost our molten core of passion for seeing justice served. Consider this our holiday prayer for a reckoning long overdue: May human decency prevail over the corruption and wickedness that endangers so many of our neighbors, and may our government’s assorted agencies be held accountable for their ongoing assault against the civil liberties of those seeking refuge in our land of bountiful freedoms. Proceeds from sales of this perfume will benefit the Refugee and Immigrant Center for Education and Legal Services (RAICES). For more information about their services, please visit https://www.raicestexas.org Melt the hoarfrost of this administration’s cruelty with this scent of warmth, safety, and succor: smoked toffee and patchouli with coffee bean, caramelized oudh, clove, and bourbon vanilla. Disclosure: I purchased 2 bottles of this scent blind because even if this smelled like bottled poo, the meaning behind it is so important in this political climate that I wouldn't even care. That said, it happens to contain a number of notes I tend to love, and I'm hoping it's going to be a knockout In The Bottle: Toffee, chewy caramel and bourbon vanilla. It's warm, sweet and very cozy. I'm falling in love already! Wet On Skin: Oh, my. The above are cut through by the emergence of the clove and oudh, colluding to pull the scent out of merely being a sweet-n-sticky food treat and moving it into a higher plain- more depth, more spice, a rounding out. Dry Down: While I get no patch or coffee, all the other notes are at the party, clove taking a slight lead at this stage, making this a warm and inviting cold-weather scent. It doers exactly as it has set out to do: the fires of love, warmth and inclusion ring true and deep with this scent, reminding us that it is community that keeps the cold hard world at bay. Thank you Beth, for bringing such a visceral reminder into the universe, your love is so strong in the fa ce of oppression that it brings tears to my eyes presently. ❤️❤️❤️
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You may give them your love but not your thoughts, For they have their own thoughts. You may house their bodies but not their souls, For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams. You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you. For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday. You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth. The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far. Let your bending in the archer’s hand be for gladness; For even as He loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that is stable. A woody, deep patchouli with bourbon vanilla, rich amber, and soft golden skin musk.
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Spun sugar, skin musk, orris butter, pale amber, whipped vanilla, and rose petals.
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This year we'll be donating to Athlete Ally, a wonderful org striving to help improve LGBTQI+ inclusivity in sports and athletics programs for all ages. They provide resources and curricula for students, teachers, coaches, and teams. https://www.athleteally.org/ Crown of Apollo, instrument of Pythian divination, symbol of higher learning: bay laurel and calamus gilded with fossilized amber.
