Leonhardstrasse, Zurich

_{Image: Q Hotel, Berlin}

That darned volcano wreaked havoc on my travel schedule. My flight to Berlin last Friday was cancelled, so I had to book it to the Hauptbahnhof to snag a ticket for the 8-hour journey.

I treated myself just this once to a first-class ticket, thinking that I would be able to get some shut eye. I was wrong. Lesson learned: Folks in first class are just as loud and ghetto as everyone else. They’re just loud and ghetto in business suits.

While in Berlin I visited a small perfumery (which used synthetics, not that there’s anything wrong if that’s what you like) and bought some samples to compare with mine. Just to make sure I wasn’t biased toward my perfumes (I thought mine were infinitely better, so there:-)) I had a non-perfumey-ish friend do a blind test, comparing a store scent with the one I made last week. Both had similar notes. The friend said that the perfume from the shop reminded one of a “hotel room” and that mine was “emotional,” conjuring up colors such as red and brown and thoughts of Asia and Africa.

I swooned.

I needed to hear that. I needed to hear that the thoughts I hold when I make a scent transfer.

I’m not sure if I’m getting it right, but at least I’m getting it.

By the way, if you requested samples, they’re going in the mail tomorrow.

I have an old copy of Perfumes and Cosmetics: Their Preparation and Manufacture by George Askinson. I bought it a while back, but just got the chance to flip through it tonight.

I found the most magnificent piece of perfume history tucked between the pages: an old full page article entitled “Musical Melodies in Perfumes? Science Asserts That the Fragrances of Nature Follow Laws of Harmony Which Correspond to Those of Music” from the 6 August 1922 edition of “The American Weekly” section of The Boston Sunday Advertiser.

That perfumes can be arranged in delicious melodies and harmonies was recently asserted by a scientist of the highest standing, Dr. Marston T. Bogert, professor of organic chemistry at Columbia University.

I’m going down for the count, so I can’t read the entire thing tonight, and my schedule is ridiculous until Monday. I must find time next week to dig into this. There are other little notes and newspaper clippings tucked away in the book as well.

I think my heart just skipped a beat.

I had a friend over for dinner this weekend and made a chicken curry dish loaded with ginger. It was divine, but I think I can improve. The dinner inspired me to create a new scent with ginger, cedarwood, tobacco and a touch of black pepper. The cedarwood stuck out like a sore thumb, probably due to the memory it triggered: my grandmother’s cedar chest, which was always loaded with furs. One in particular fur was this weasel wrap thingy.

You know the one I’m talking about…every grandmother had one. And she looked like she was trapped in a vermin Vulcan stun grip.

That thing scared the living daylights out of me, especially those beady little eyes.

Yes. All of this from a whiff of cedarwood essential oil in a blend. After a few minutes, the cedarwood took a step back and allowed the spicy and seductive ginger to show her stuff.

Hmmm. Would ginger be female? Not sure.

As I ponder that question, check out this interview with perfumer Gerald Ghislain.

My favorite graph:

The most important things I learnt at the ISIPCA weren’t the technical aspects or the smells but the scents’ vocabulary. I learnt 
to describe a scent with words 
and very quickly, I was able to describe an image with scents. Ultimately, I learnt to tell a story with 
a perfume.

That’s my main goal right now, telling a story with my creations.

So, back to ginger. Male or female? Devilish or divine? I sense her as a somewhat an ingenue, spicy, bright, but not quite sure of her power. She teases you, gently. Just a tickle on your nose is enough to make you remember her.

_{Image: Wikipedia}

If you go into downward dog and smell, well, dog, then this blend is for you.

This post was censored by a friend of Rashunda’s. She made her take the recipe down because she has a background in marketing..and doesn’t think Rashunda should give away stuff for free.:-):-)

Shake well, then spritz on your mat. Let it set for a few minutes and then wipe down with a clean cloth. Allow to dry.

This should keep the dogs at bay between washings.

_{*According to The Illustrated Encyclopedia of Essential Oils by Julia Lawless}

I arrived back in CH this afternoon, six hours later than expected.

The plane from ATL (the layover from Memphis) had to turn around just as it was about to go down the runway for takeoff. A generator had gone out.

After about two hours sitting on the tarmac waiting on the mechanics to arrive, an hour waiting on the mechanics as they worked on the generator, about 45 minutes waiting on a gate to open up so we could taxi back to the airport, deplaning (sp), sitting in the waiting area for two hours, then getting on another plane, we finally took off.

Was I angry? Not in the least. Better safe than sorry (or being fish food in the middle of the Atlantic).

Now I’m off to battle this bronchitis. Wish me luck.

I’ll be away from the internet until around mid-March. Ahhhhh.:-)

I promised to post my notes from the paper below this weekend (History of Cleanliness). Instead, I went to Einsiedeln.

I needed it.

Needed to sit.

To be quiet.

To listen.

Then I came home and wrapped bars.

I highly recommend it (the visit to Einsiedeln, not wrapping bars. Although the latter is fun also).

“There is no smoking gun, no private indictment detailing taco night at the Continental Congress. We update Facebook anytime a co-worker cooks fish in the kitchenette microwave, but the Founders are largely silent in their papers when it comes to stench. They swam through a river of it every day, and immersion surely led to indifference.”

Over at McSweeney’s Chris White asks What Did the Founding Fathers Smell Like?

My favorite deduction:

“Free of television and laptops, the men themselves led active, sweaty lifestyles: Adams took daily strolls, Washington and Jefferson were constantly on horseback, and Madison had to keep up with Dolley. They wore heavy clothes even in those burning, putrid summers, and some had a thing for leather pants. Laundry service was probably decent, but bathing wasn’t a full-body activity—most days they would be washing just their face and hands in a basin, leaving bacteria to wage a revolution everywhere else.”

I’ll post notes about the paper I mentioned below over the weekend.

By the way, if you have an iPhone, it would behoove you to check out McSweeney’s iPhone app designed by Russell Quinn. For about CHF 6.00 (about 1-for-1 with the dollar right now) you get the app and a six-month subscription of articles, audio and video from the site.