BPAL Update
Aug. 27th, 2007 06:36 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mllelaurelHuge update. My wallet, it weeps.
Hunter Moon
As the winter encroaches, the time comes to embark on the last Great Hunts of the year. The deer are fattened, the fields have been reaped, and the light of the full moon illuminates the wild creatures that have come out to glean. This scent is redolent of night skies, falling leaves, and the high-pitched tension and release associated with the Hunt. Dry leaves, autumn bonfires, blood red wine, feral, animalistic notes and the chill of approaching winter.
Doesn't particularly strike my fancy.
---
Aeaea
A dark ocean breeze, electric with adrenaline, magic, and fear, clashing with the thick scent of poisoned berries and spiny aloe, against a backdrop of snowdrop, cedar, and cypress.
That sounds really good, actually. On my list it goes.
---
Libra 2007
Cardinal air: the essence of balance.
Rose, black cherry, carnation, fig, honey, plum, and black currant.
Holy shit! Lily want!
Lunacy verdict: It looks like I'll be getting bottles of Aeaea and Libra 2007. On one hand, bottles are expensive. On the other hand, if I'm not thrilled with what I've got, Lunacies are so very resellable.
All Souls 2007
A day of remembrance and intercession. Without the prayers and sacrifices of their families and loved ones, the faithful departed may not be cleansed of their venal sins, and thereby cannot attain beatific vision. On November 2nd, prayers are sung and offerings are made to aid lost souls in transcending purgatory. An incense blend that invokes the higher qualities of mercy and compassion, mingled with the soft, sugared currant scent of offertory soul cakes.
Sounds pleasant, but I'm not craving it.
---
Bonfire Night
Guy Fawkes, Guy;
Stick him up on high!
Hang him on a lamp post
And there let him die!
Guy, Guy, Guy!
Poke Him in the eye!
Put him on the fire,
And there let him die!
Burn his body from his head:
Then you'll say
Guy Fawkes is dead!
Hip, Hip, Hooray!
Beer, woodsmoke, tar, and treacle.
Nah.
---
The Death of Autumn
When reeds are dead and a straw to thatch the marshes,
And feathered pampas-grass rides into the wind
Like aged warriors westward, tragic, thinned
Of half their tribe, and over the flattened rushes,
Stripped of its secret, open, stark and bleak,
Blackens afar the half-forgotten creek, --
Then leans on me the weight of the year, and crushes
My heart. I know that Beauty must ail and die,
And will be born again, -- but ah, to see
Beauty stiffened, staring up at the sky!
Oh, Autumn! Autumn! -- What is the Spring to me?
Dark amber, dead leaves, khus, saffron, bitter clove, chrysanthemum, camellia, galangal, and a drop of oud.
Eh.
---
Dia de los Muertos 2007
A joyous celebration of La Catarina, La Flaca, La Muerte… Glorious, Beautiful Death. In Mexico, death is not something to be feared or hated; She is embraced, loved, and adored. La Muerte is fêted, as the celebrant "…chases after it, mocks it, courts it, hugs it, sleeps with it; it is his favorite plaything and his most lasting love." This is a Mexican paean to La Huesuda: dry, crackling leaves, the incense smoke of altars honoring Death and the Dead, funeral bouquets, the candies, chocolates, foods and tobacco of the ofrenda, amaranth, sweet cactus blossom and desert cereus.
This has the potential to be delicious. And the potential to be very limited edition and thus resellable, if it's not.
---
October
AY, thou art welcome, heaven's delicious breath!
When woods begin to wear the crimson leaf,
And suns grow meek, and the meek suns grow brief
And the year smiles as it draws near its death.
Wind of the sunny south! oh, still delay
In the gay woods and in the golden air,
Like to a good old age released from care,
Journeying, in long serenity, away.
In such a bright, late quiet, would that I
Might wear out life like thee, 'mid bowers and brooks
And dearer yet, the sunshine of kind looks,
And music of kind voices ever nigh;
And when my last sand twinkled in the glass,
Pass silently from men, as thou dost pass.
Dry, cold autumn wind. A rustle of red leaves, a touch of smoke and sap in the air.
Tempting, but no.
---
Samhain 2007
Truly the scent of autumn itself -- damp woods, fir needle, and black patchouli with the gentlest touches of warm pumpkin, clove, nutmeg, allspice, sweet red apple and mullein.
If only I had some guarantee of the apple showing up...
---
Samhainphobia 2007
The fear of Halloween. Menacing Haitian vetiver, patchouli, and clove with a shock of bourbon geranium, grim oakmoss, and dread-inspiring balsams pierce the innocuous scent of autumn leaves.
Way, way too bitter for me.
Halloween verdict: I'll probably be getting Dia de los Muertos and Samhain. Neither is an absolute sure thing, though.
The Atrocious Attic
A shadowy shrine filled with forgotten toys, broken dolls. The altar: a collapsing trunk distended by a rotted wedding gown. The air of the room is dusty, laced with the scent of a child's perfume and the remnants of a dried, crumbling bridal bouquet: tea rose, violet, white sandalwood, French lavender, and Calla lily.
Not for me!
---
The Chilling Cellar
Wine just turning to vinegar, crumbling mortar, red clay, and the coppery tang of old blood.
Somehow, that just doesn't sound delicious to me.
---
The Forbidding Foyer
Thick shadows hang heavy across fungus-smeared, dilapidated wainscoting, cobwebs hang like fine lace across sagging mouldings, rats scuttle past gaping doorways. The faint scent of brimstone, ghostly breath laced with cognac, neglected mahogany panels, and rot.
Hmm...no.
---
The Ghastly Garden
Overgrown oleander, marshy water hemlock, the sugared nectar of carnivorous blooms, putrefying wet greenery, oozing sap, crushed rosary peas, withered climbing roses, and nightshade berries.
I might want a sniff at some point, but I don't think I'm shelling out for the bottle.
---
The Lurid Library
The incense-tinged scent of forbidden tomes and the musk-laden remnants of infernal servants.
So it smells like dust?
---
The Perilous Parlor
A memory of pleasure passed. A ghostly rendezvous, delight beyond death. Faint echoes of laughter and the distorted music of a harp drift by, along with the scent of soft white pear and sweet vanilla.
Now that's more like it! Yum!
---
The Twisted Oak Tree
Blackened, rotted oak wood blanketed in moss and choked by a cloak of grasping ivy.
Nope.
Haunted House verdict: The Perilous Parlor is the only one I'm interested in at all.
I'm not that fond of pumpkin smell, so I'll be skipping the Pumpkin Patch selection.
Now, on to the General Catalogue. I probably won't be getting an imp set this time, but next time...
Event Horizon
A disconcerting scent, heavy and oppressive, through which no light, no matter, and no spirit can escape. Black opium, labdanum, opoponax, black orchid, and benzoin.
Nah.
---
Mary Read
Salt air, ocean mist, aged patchouli, sarsaparilla, watered-down rum, leather-tinged musk, and a spray of gunpowder.
Nah.
---
Schroedinger's Cat
One can even set up quite ridiculous cases. A cat is penned up in a steel chamber, along with the following diabolical device (which must be secured against direct interference by the cat): in a Geiger counter there is a tiny bit of radioactive substance, so small that perhaps in the course of one hour one of the atoms decays, but also, with equal probability, perhaps none; if it happens, the counter tube discharges and through a relay releases a hammer which shatters a small flask of hydrocyanic acid. If one has left this entire system to itself for an hour, one would say that the cat still lives if meanwhile no atom has decayed. The first atomic decay would have poisoned it. The Psi function for the entire system would express this by having in it the living and the dead cat (pardon the expression) mixed or smeared out in equal parts. It is typical of these cases that an indeterminacy originally restricted to the atomic domain becomes transformed into macroscopic indeterminacy, which can then be resolved by direct observation. That prevents us from so naively accepting as valid a "blurred model" for representing reality. In itself it would not embody anything unclear or contradictory. There is a difference between a shaky or out-of-focus photograph and a snapshot of clouds and fog banks.
A paradoxical scent experiment - tangerine, sugared lime, pink grapefruit, oakmoss, lavender, zdravetz, and chocolate peppermint.
No cats were mistreated during the formulation of this paradox, or in the process of creating this perfume.
Here, kitty, kitty! Good kitty. My kitty!
---
Kubla Khan
Through sunlit caves of ice, roses unfurl amidst dancing waves of serpentine opium smoke and amber tobacco, golden sandalwood, champaca, tea leaf, sugared lily, ginger, rich hay absolute, leather, dark vanilla, mandarin, peru balsam, and Moroccan jasmine.
Could be interesting if the jasmine doesn't kill it dead.
Epitaph
Heap not on this mound
Roses that she loved so well:
Why bewilder her with roses,
That she cannot see or smell?
She is happy where she lies
With the dust upon her eyes.
Roses and funeral lilies perceived, faintly, through an indistinct, ghostly mist.
Is it just me, or do all scents in this section seem more or less the same?
---
The Phantom Wooer
A lifeless love song: stargazer lily, bone dust, tomb mosses, buttonweed, moonflower, and honey myrtle.
If I get a sniff of someone else's, I probably won't object, but I'm not seeking it out on my own.
A Countenance Forboding Evil
Thy gloomy features, like a midnight dial,
Scowl the dark index of a fearful hour.
Patchouli, ylang ylang, blood orange, and vetiver.
Eh.
---
Goblin
Dab a bit behind each ear, and you'll be instantly inspired to alter street signs, shake fruit from your neighbor's trees, and hide your roommate's car keys. Black coconut, gnarly patchouli, and sweet benzoin.
What's benzoin?
---
Incubus
Spectral white musk and the heart-stopping chill of sheared mint, fanned by caramel-touched body heat, and the diabolical sensuality of black musk, nicotiana, and sage.
Most interesting... This goes on my list.
---
Troll
They call me Troll;
Gnawer of the Moon,
Giant of the Gale-blasts,
Curse of the rain-hall,
Companion of the Sibyl,
Nightroaming hag,
Swallower of the loaf of heaven.
What is a Troll but that?
A lurching, hateful, bitter scent. This is a gruesome blend of ghastly greens and blacks: vetiver, pine pitch, troll musk, black basil, clove smoke, and scorched cumin.
Nah.
Hairy Toad Lily
Spotty, hairy, purple, sweet!
...Has no notes.
Havana
Date palm, dried tobacco, snakeroot, and leather.
Not really me.
Hi'iaka
Sister to Pele, Patroness of Hula Dancers, she is a Lady of Hawa'ii, and is caretaker, mother, and beloved of the land itself. The heart of the forest beats along with Her dance, and the air is suffused with Her scent: mai'a, hibiscus, white ginger, akala, na'u, Hawaiian moon flower, yellow ilima, pink lokelani, jewel orchid, and fringed orchid.
Most interesting. Maybe I'll get her in tandem with Pele.
Apparently there's a new category coming soon. Maarchen. Looks German to me, and I have no idea what it means. Help a girl out, here?
Also, could someone please tell me how the whole Trick or Treat Inquisition thing works?
Hunter Moon
As the winter encroaches, the time comes to embark on the last Great Hunts of the year. The deer are fattened, the fields have been reaped, and the light of the full moon illuminates the wild creatures that have come out to glean. This scent is redolent of night skies, falling leaves, and the high-pitched tension and release associated with the Hunt. Dry leaves, autumn bonfires, blood red wine, feral, animalistic notes and the chill of approaching winter.
Doesn't particularly strike my fancy.
---
Aeaea
A dark ocean breeze, electric with adrenaline, magic, and fear, clashing with the thick scent of poisoned berries and spiny aloe, against a backdrop of snowdrop, cedar, and cypress.
That sounds really good, actually. On my list it goes.
---
Libra 2007
Cardinal air: the essence of balance.
Rose, black cherry, carnation, fig, honey, plum, and black currant.
Holy shit! Lily want!
Lunacy verdict: It looks like I'll be getting bottles of Aeaea and Libra 2007. On one hand, bottles are expensive. On the other hand, if I'm not thrilled with what I've got, Lunacies are so very resellable.
All Souls 2007
A day of remembrance and intercession. Without the prayers and sacrifices of their families and loved ones, the faithful departed may not be cleansed of their venal sins, and thereby cannot attain beatific vision. On November 2nd, prayers are sung and offerings are made to aid lost souls in transcending purgatory. An incense blend that invokes the higher qualities of mercy and compassion, mingled with the soft, sugared currant scent of offertory soul cakes.
Sounds pleasant, but I'm not craving it.
---
Bonfire Night
Guy Fawkes, Guy;
Stick him up on high!
Hang him on a lamp post
And there let him die!
Guy, Guy, Guy!
Poke Him in the eye!
Put him on the fire,
And there let him die!
Burn his body from his head:
Then you'll say
Guy Fawkes is dead!
Hip, Hip, Hooray!
Beer, woodsmoke, tar, and treacle.
Nah.
---
The Death of Autumn
When reeds are dead and a straw to thatch the marshes,
And feathered pampas-grass rides into the wind
Like aged warriors westward, tragic, thinned
Of half their tribe, and over the flattened rushes,
Stripped of its secret, open, stark and bleak,
Blackens afar the half-forgotten creek, --
Then leans on me the weight of the year, and crushes
My heart. I know that Beauty must ail and die,
And will be born again, -- but ah, to see
Beauty stiffened, staring up at the sky!
Oh, Autumn! Autumn! -- What is the Spring to me?
Dark amber, dead leaves, khus, saffron, bitter clove, chrysanthemum, camellia, galangal, and a drop of oud.
Eh.
---
Dia de los Muertos 2007
A joyous celebration of La Catarina, La Flaca, La Muerte… Glorious, Beautiful Death. In Mexico, death is not something to be feared or hated; She is embraced, loved, and adored. La Muerte is fêted, as the celebrant "…chases after it, mocks it, courts it, hugs it, sleeps with it; it is his favorite plaything and his most lasting love." This is a Mexican paean to La Huesuda: dry, crackling leaves, the incense smoke of altars honoring Death and the Dead, funeral bouquets, the candies, chocolates, foods and tobacco of the ofrenda, amaranth, sweet cactus blossom and desert cereus.
This has the potential to be delicious. And the potential to be very limited edition and thus resellable, if it's not.
---
October
AY, thou art welcome, heaven's delicious breath!
When woods begin to wear the crimson leaf,
And suns grow meek, and the meek suns grow brief
And the year smiles as it draws near its death.
Wind of the sunny south! oh, still delay
In the gay woods and in the golden air,
Like to a good old age released from care,
Journeying, in long serenity, away.
In such a bright, late quiet, would that I
Might wear out life like thee, 'mid bowers and brooks
And dearer yet, the sunshine of kind looks,
And music of kind voices ever nigh;
And when my last sand twinkled in the glass,
Pass silently from men, as thou dost pass.
Dry, cold autumn wind. A rustle of red leaves, a touch of smoke and sap in the air.
Tempting, but no.
---
Samhain 2007
Truly the scent of autumn itself -- damp woods, fir needle, and black patchouli with the gentlest touches of warm pumpkin, clove, nutmeg, allspice, sweet red apple and mullein.
If only I had some guarantee of the apple showing up...
---
Samhainphobia 2007
The fear of Halloween. Menacing Haitian vetiver, patchouli, and clove with a shock of bourbon geranium, grim oakmoss, and dread-inspiring balsams pierce the innocuous scent of autumn leaves.
Way, way too bitter for me.
Halloween verdict: I'll probably be getting Dia de los Muertos and Samhain. Neither is an absolute sure thing, though.
The Atrocious Attic
A shadowy shrine filled with forgotten toys, broken dolls. The altar: a collapsing trunk distended by a rotted wedding gown. The air of the room is dusty, laced with the scent of a child's perfume and the remnants of a dried, crumbling bridal bouquet: tea rose, violet, white sandalwood, French lavender, and Calla lily.
Not for me!
---
The Chilling Cellar
Wine just turning to vinegar, crumbling mortar, red clay, and the coppery tang of old blood.
Somehow, that just doesn't sound delicious to me.
---
The Forbidding Foyer
Thick shadows hang heavy across fungus-smeared, dilapidated wainscoting, cobwebs hang like fine lace across sagging mouldings, rats scuttle past gaping doorways. The faint scent of brimstone, ghostly breath laced with cognac, neglected mahogany panels, and rot.
Hmm...no.
---
The Ghastly Garden
Overgrown oleander, marshy water hemlock, the sugared nectar of carnivorous blooms, putrefying wet greenery, oozing sap, crushed rosary peas, withered climbing roses, and nightshade berries.
I might want a sniff at some point, but I don't think I'm shelling out for the bottle.
---
The Lurid Library
The incense-tinged scent of forbidden tomes and the musk-laden remnants of infernal servants.
So it smells like dust?
---
The Perilous Parlor
A memory of pleasure passed. A ghostly rendezvous, delight beyond death. Faint echoes of laughter and the distorted music of a harp drift by, along with the scent of soft white pear and sweet vanilla.
Now that's more like it! Yum!
---
The Twisted Oak Tree
Blackened, rotted oak wood blanketed in moss and choked by a cloak of grasping ivy.
Nope.
Haunted House verdict: The Perilous Parlor is the only one I'm interested in at all.
I'm not that fond of pumpkin smell, so I'll be skipping the Pumpkin Patch selection.
Now, on to the General Catalogue. I probably won't be getting an imp set this time, but next time...
Event Horizon
A disconcerting scent, heavy and oppressive, through which no light, no matter, and no spirit can escape. Black opium, labdanum, opoponax, black orchid, and benzoin.
Nah.
---
Mary Read
Salt air, ocean mist, aged patchouli, sarsaparilla, watered-down rum, leather-tinged musk, and a spray of gunpowder.
Nah.
---
Schroedinger's Cat
One can even set up quite ridiculous cases. A cat is penned up in a steel chamber, along with the following diabolical device (which must be secured against direct interference by the cat): in a Geiger counter there is a tiny bit of radioactive substance, so small that perhaps in the course of one hour one of the atoms decays, but also, with equal probability, perhaps none; if it happens, the counter tube discharges and through a relay releases a hammer which shatters a small flask of hydrocyanic acid. If one has left this entire system to itself for an hour, one would say that the cat still lives if meanwhile no atom has decayed. The first atomic decay would have poisoned it. The Psi function for the entire system would express this by having in it the living and the dead cat (pardon the expression) mixed or smeared out in equal parts. It is typical of these cases that an indeterminacy originally restricted to the atomic domain becomes transformed into macroscopic indeterminacy, which can then be resolved by direct observation. That prevents us from so naively accepting as valid a "blurred model" for representing reality. In itself it would not embody anything unclear or contradictory. There is a difference between a shaky or out-of-focus photograph and a snapshot of clouds and fog banks.
A paradoxical scent experiment - tangerine, sugared lime, pink grapefruit, oakmoss, lavender, zdravetz, and chocolate peppermint.
No cats were mistreated during the formulation of this paradox, or in the process of creating this perfume.
Here, kitty, kitty! Good kitty. My kitty!
---
Kubla Khan
Through sunlit caves of ice, roses unfurl amidst dancing waves of serpentine opium smoke and amber tobacco, golden sandalwood, champaca, tea leaf, sugared lily, ginger, rich hay absolute, leather, dark vanilla, mandarin, peru balsam, and Moroccan jasmine.
Could be interesting if the jasmine doesn't kill it dead.
Epitaph
Heap not on this mound
Roses that she loved so well:
Why bewilder her with roses,
That she cannot see or smell?
She is happy where she lies
With the dust upon her eyes.
Roses and funeral lilies perceived, faintly, through an indistinct, ghostly mist.
Is it just me, or do all scents in this section seem more or less the same?
---
The Phantom Wooer
A lifeless love song: stargazer lily, bone dust, tomb mosses, buttonweed, moonflower, and honey myrtle.
If I get a sniff of someone else's, I probably won't object, but I'm not seeking it out on my own.
A Countenance Forboding Evil
Thy gloomy features, like a midnight dial,
Scowl the dark index of a fearful hour.
Patchouli, ylang ylang, blood orange, and vetiver.
Eh.
---
Goblin
Dab a bit behind each ear, and you'll be instantly inspired to alter street signs, shake fruit from your neighbor's trees, and hide your roommate's car keys. Black coconut, gnarly patchouli, and sweet benzoin.
What's benzoin?
---
Incubus
Spectral white musk and the heart-stopping chill of sheared mint, fanned by caramel-touched body heat, and the diabolical sensuality of black musk, nicotiana, and sage.
Most interesting... This goes on my list.
---
Troll
They call me Troll;
Gnawer of the Moon,
Giant of the Gale-blasts,
Curse of the rain-hall,
Companion of the Sibyl,
Nightroaming hag,
Swallower of the loaf of heaven.
What is a Troll but that?
A lurching, hateful, bitter scent. This is a gruesome blend of ghastly greens and blacks: vetiver, pine pitch, troll musk, black basil, clove smoke, and scorched cumin.
Nah.
Hairy Toad Lily
Spotty, hairy, purple, sweet!
...Has no notes.
Havana
Date palm, dried tobacco, snakeroot, and leather.
Not really me.
Hi'iaka
Sister to Pele, Patroness of Hula Dancers, she is a Lady of Hawa'ii, and is caretaker, mother, and beloved of the land itself. The heart of the forest beats along with Her dance, and the air is suffused with Her scent: mai'a, hibiscus, white ginger, akala, na'u, Hawaiian moon flower, yellow ilima, pink lokelani, jewel orchid, and fringed orchid.
Most interesting. Maybe I'll get her in tandem with Pele.
Apparently there's a new category coming soon. Maarchen. Looks German to me, and I have no idea what it means. Help a girl out, here?
Also, could someone please tell me how the whole Trick or Treat Inquisition thing works?
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-08-27 01:10 pm (UTC)Thursday sounds perfect. Afternoon?