This delightful lunch I had in Berlin sparked my creative juices. Potatoes, tomatoes and eggplant – what perfume could I make using this dish as my ‘culinary muse’? Potatoes: Cepes absolute? Tomatoes: Not sure about that one. Eggplant: Hmmmm. Perfume Shrine has a long love letter to the plant, calling the aroma “smoky” but resigned to the fact that “(p)erfumers might not have succumbed to its charms yet”. Would choya nakh work? It’s made from roasted seashells. I have a small bottle of it stored away. It’s time to break it out.

So, what do you think? And how would tomato be represented?

_{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 made magic over the holiday break. It sounds arrogant, but the aura that’s surrounding me as a sample my latest creation is – magic.

The scent: A sweet, powdery vanilla base wrapped in thin layer of cognac. As the cognac layer ever so slowly melts away, like a sticky caramel coating, a hint of rose rises up say hello.

Yes. This is magic.

And this magic is working its charm, because it has made me pull out these:

I’ve had a bag of empty perfume sample vials in my cupboard for a very, very long time. I’ve pulled them out to look every once in a while and then put them back.

I think I’m ready now.

I’ll send out perfume samples to the first 5 folks who send their physical address to info at sapuna dot com, no matter where they are. In return, I’d appreciate your feedback.

I’ve just returned from AbdesSalam Attar’s natural perfumery course in Italy.

I’ve found my calling. I’m turning in my resignation at the shop Monday.

Boss, I’m joking.:-)

The session was held at the beautiful Il Germano Reale, which is ringed by a botanical festival: cypress trees, lavender and rosemary bushes. Salam even snagged a peach for me off a tree and introduced me to giuggiole (jujubes), which were hanging low from their trees.

We discussed ‘perfumetherapy,’ olfactory psychology and ‘the way of scent (japanese kodo).’ We also worked on categorizing scents, smelling each one and applying characteristics to it.

If you have even just a passing interest in perfume and psychology, or natural perfume in general, you must absolutely get a cup of tea, sit in front of your computer, and spend a few hours on Salam’s site. It’s huge, but it is a must.

Another task was to make a perfume for a fellow attendee. If you make perfume only for yourself, you will wind up making what’s basically the same scent over and over again.

I gave my ‘customer’ a selection of scents and told her to smell each one. I grouped the ones she liked, and then had her select from those for the main accord (bergamot, ylang ylang, rosewood). Then I went from there.

Making a scent for another person forces you to drop your ego (at least that’s what it did for me). It forces you to get over feeling hurt if the person doesn’t like the way a scent is going. You don’t have time to feel hurt. You must focus on getting it right.

This is a life lesson.

The perfume made for me contained rose absolute, ylang ylang and cedarwood. (I hope my office mates won’t mind.:-))

I’m beat. But inspired.

Now if I could just get going on making that perfumer’s organ.

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}