The Autumn scents are live at Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab! First, the Halloweenies…

++ HALLOWEENIE
ALL SAINTS 2010
Based on a venerable French pontifical incense blend: monastic frankincense and myrrh, Damascus rose, Russian gardenia, cassia, and lily of the valley wafting on a chill Autumn wind. A celebration of the glory and suffering of the saints and matryrs of the Church.

ALL SOULS 2010
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.

BLUE PUMPKIN FLOSS
Puffy clouds of pumpkin candyfloss with a trickle of blackberry juice.

BOO 2010
Eerie billows of spun sugar, fluttering white cotton, and sheets of cream.

CALAVERAS
Clever little satirical poems in the style of epitaphs written to tease the living and ease grief over a loved one’s passing. Xocolatl, tequila, copal incense, smoke-dried jalapeños, vanilla pods, and cajeta.

DIA DE LOS ÑATITAS
On November 8, the indigenous people of Bolivia share the day with the bones of their ancestors, a custom that has its roots in pre-Columbian Quechua / Aymara spiritual practise. Each person has seven souls, and one stays with the skull after a person dies. The seventh souls can visit loved ones in dreams, grant aid in times of need, perform miracles, and are empowered to bring bounty to the spirit’s descendants. The skulls of a person’s deceased ancestors are cleaned, blessed, and sanctified, and are brought home to reside with their living relatives. On the Day of the Skulls, these souls are honored, and thanks is given for the blessings they have granted in the previous year. Their skulls are taken from the home altars they reside in to a graveyard in order to receive a mass blessing. They are crowned with colorful knitted caps or gorgeous rings of fresh flowers, are given offerings of food, cocoa leaves, sweets, alcohol, and cigarettes, and are serenaded by street musicians.

Hydrangea blossoms and rose petals, cigarette smoke, cocoa leaves, and chichi.

FLOR DE MUERTO
The orange marigold, or zempasúchitl, has been one of Death’s symbols since the pre-Columbian era. The yellow and orange petals are believed to represent the rays of the sun, bringing joy and light to the souls dwelling in the realm of the dead. These flowers surround Day of the Dead altars to guide the spirits to their offerings.

GHOULISH
This season’s Ridiculous Scent! Creepy like Creepy and as spooky as Spooky, this is the scent of a black cherry and coconut amaretto confection gently laced with saffron.

THE HAG
The Hag is astride,
This night for to ride;
The Devill and shee together:
Through thick, and through thin,
Now out, and then in,
Though ne’r so foule be the weather.

The storme will arise,
And trouble the skies;
This night, and more for the wonder,
The ghost from the Tomb
Affrighted shall come,
Cal’d out by the clap of the Thunder.

Black musk, bay leaves, galangal, bourbon vetiver, blackcurrant, and rum.

GOLLETES
A circular pastry glazed with pink sugar that symbolizes the sweetness of life and the certainty of death.

HUESOS DE SANTO 2010
On All Saints Day, Spanish families visit their loved ones in the cemeteries, keeping vigil throughout the evening, saying prayers for the dead. Family burial plots are cleaned and tended, and graves are adorned with gladiolas, chrysanthemums, and roses. Bone-shaped pastries called Saint’s Bones, or the Bones of the Holy, are baked and shared in honor of the souls in Purgatory, and to remind us of those who no longer share our repast, but with whom we one day hope to be reunited with again.

Orange-glazed cake, dotted with anise seed, and filled with custard, set beside a bouquet of celebratory funeral flowers.

LAMBS-WOOL 2010
According to William Shepard Walsh, the Gentleman’s Magazine for May of 1784 stated, “this is a constant ingredient at merrymaking on Holy Eve.” He also quotes Vallancey’s etymological speculation: “The first day of November was dedicated to the angel presiding over fruits, seeds, etc., and was therefore named La Mas Ubhal, — that is, the day of the apple fruit, — and being pronounced Lamasool, the English have corrupted the name to Lambs-wool.”

A popular holy day beverage in 18th century Ireland: roasted apples mashed into warmed milk and ale, with nutmeg, sugar, ginger, and clove.

NOTHING GOLD CAN STAY
Nature’s first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

Dewy green leaves colored by Moroccan amber, ginseng, and rooibos.

OCTOBER 2010
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.

PUMPKIN LATTE
Espresso, pumpkin syrup, smoky vanilla bean, milk, raw sugar, and a dash of cinnamon and nutmeg.

PUNKIE NIGHT 2010
Once upon a time, on a wild October night many years ago, a fair took place at Chiselborough. The men of the village of Hinton St. George made their way to the fair, and spent the night in revelry, drinking and carrying on, far into the darkest hours. Their wives grew concerned, and went looking for their unruly husbands. In order to see their way through the autumn gloom, they hollowed out mangel-wurzels and crafted them into makeshift lanterns. The drunken men, in their sloshy haze, saw the ghostly lights approaching, and believed them to be goolies — the furious spirits of unbaptized children. In terror, they fled in panic from their bemused, bewildered wives.

To this day, that night of foolishness is still celebrated! This is a light-hearted scent: apple orchards, bright cranberries, and a touch of warm cider.

SAMHAIN 2010
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.

SUGAR SKULL 2010
Vibrant with the joy and sweetness of life in death! A blend of five sugars, lightly dusted with candied fruits.

THE WILD SWANS AT COOLE
The trees are in their autumn beauty,
The woodland paths are dry,
Under the October twilight the water
Mirrors a still sky;
Upon the brimming water among the stones
Are nine-and-fifty swans.

But now they drift on the still water,
Mysterious, beautiful;
Among what rushes will they build,
By what lake’s edge or pool
Delight men’s eyes when I awake some day
To find they have flown away?

October twilight. Falling leaves breaking the stillness of cool water, with sweet autumn clematis, feather-soft orris root, luminous white chypre, and muguet.

++ HALLOWEENIE: MNEMOSYNE
I’ve spent Halloween in four cities — Brooklyn, Los Angeles, New Orleans, and San Francisco. Halloween night in each of these cities bears the stamp of a very distinct scent memory for me. When I was very little, my father took me to the Green-Wood Cemetery so that I could pay my respects to those who had passed before us. I remember the afternoon as cold and clear, I remember picking up pine cones and putting them in my mother’s handbag, and I remember the blanket of purple flowers that dotted the grass.

HALLOWEEN: BROOKLYN
Flowering dogwood, weeping cherry, Korean pine, camellia, moonflower, Alberta spruce, arborvitae, and crab apples.

HALLOWEEN: LOS ANGELES
The sky on fire: a strange incense of burning brush, junegrass, tumbleweeds, chaparral, and wild sage.

HALLOWEEN: NEW ORLEANS
The distinctive scent of the Mississippi at night mingling with sweet olive and Spanish moss.

HALLOWEEN: SAN FRANCISCO
Salt air wafting in from the bay. Rain falling on rain-soaked leaves.

The ‘Patch is lying fallow this year. However, the Pomegranate Grove is bearing some beautiful fruit. Pick individual pomegranates from the Grove, or snatch up the whole shebang!

POMEGRANATE I
Pomegranate, poet’s jasmine, and benzoin.

POMEGRANATE II
Pomegranate, white musk, lemon verbena, grapefruit, pink lime.

POMEGRANATE III
Pomegranate, Tamil Nadu sandalwood, lavender, tamarind, hazelnut, Atlas cedarwood, sugar date, bitter clove, and Arabian myrrh.

POMEGRANATE IV
Pomegranate, cognac, red musk, cocoa, tobacco absolute, star anise, and thyme.

POMEGRANATE V
Pomegranate, carnation, amber, cardamom, neroli, vetiver, black pepper, and opium tar.

If you purchase the POMEGRANATE GROVE set, you will receive an imp of:
THE HERAEON OF ARGOS
Argive Hera. The temple in the Argolid that was dedicated to Hera, the Queen of Heaven, in her aspect as the Great Triple Goddess. Pomegranate, apple blossom, fig, willow bark, and almond.

Also for Halloween, we have the first in a series of tributes to Gothic fiction tropes. Please note: the scents in this series include quotes from classic literary works which may disturb modern sensibilities. The tropes of Gothic fiction and the Gothic horror subgenre are a part of our literary heritage, and are something to be cherished despite how unsettling the subject matter can be. Please proceed with caution into this realm, particularly if you are bothered by descriptions of immoral and possibly illegal acts.

THE BYRONIC ANTIHERO
He stood — some dread was on his face,
Soon Hatred settled in its place:
It rose not with the reddening flush
Of transient Anger’s hasty blush,
But pale as marble o’er the tomb,
Whose ghastly whiteness aids its gloom.
His brow was bent, his eye was glazed;
He raised his arm, and fiercely raised,
And sternly shook his hand on high,
As doubting to return or fly;
Impatient of his flight delay’d,
Here loud his raven charger neigh’d —
Down glanced that hand, and grasp’d his blade;
That sound had burst his waking dream,
As Slumber starts at owlet’s scream,
The spur hath lanced his courser’s sides;
Away, away, for life he rides:
Swift as the hurl’d on high jerreed
Springs to the touch his startled steed:
The rock is doubled, and the shore
Shakes with the clattering tramp no more:
The crag is won, no more is seen
His Christian crest and haughty mien.
‘T was but an instant he restrain’d
That fiery barb so sternly rein’d;
‘T was but a moment that he stood,
Then sped as if by death pursued;
But in that instant o’er his soul
Winters of Memory seem’d to roll,
And gather in that drop of time
A life of pain, an age of crime.
O’er him who loves, or hates, or fears,
Such moment pours the grief of years:
What felt he then, at once opprest
By all that most distracts the breast?
That pause, which ponder’d o’er his fate,
Oh, who its dreary length shall date !
Though in Time’s record nearly nought,
It was Eternity to Thought !
For infinite as boundless space
The thought that Conscience must embrace,
Which in itself can comprehend
Woe without name, or hope, or end.
—The Giaour, Lord Byron

An aristocratic cologne of titanic passions, moody and brooding. This scent is dark with disillusionment and cynicism: a Victorian fougère and a dashing carnation boutonnière tainted by a cloud of khus, yew, and patchouli.

THE CREEPING MIST
I stopped my horse, and looked round me again.

‘I am afraid you are not well, sir,’ she said. ‘Your colour is all gone—you are shivering. Let me get you a glass of wine.’
—Miss Jéromette and the Clergyman, Wilkie Collins

A muculent, brumous, ill-omened scent: orris, yuzu, white ginger, linden flower, petitgrain, and lotus.

THE DECREPIT HOUSE
During the whole of a dull, dark, and soundless day in the autumn of the year, when the clouds hung oppressively low in the heavens, I had been passing alone, on horseback, through a singularly dreary tract of country; and at length found myself, as the shades of the evening drew on, within view of the melancholy House of Usher. I know not how it was; but, with the first glimpse of the building, a sense of insufferable gloom pervaded my spirit. I say insufferable; for the feeling was unrelieved by any of that half-pleasurable, because poetic, sentiment, with which the mind usually receives even the sternest natural images of the desolate or terrible. I looked upon the scene before me—upon the mere house, and the simple landscape features of the domain—upon the bleak walls—upon the vacant eye-like windows—upon a few rank sedges—and upon a few white trunks of decayed trees—with an utter depression of soul which I can compare to no earthly sensation more properly than to the after-dream of the reveler upon opium—the bitter lapse into every-day life—the hideous dropping off of the veil. There was an iciness, a sinking, a sickening of the heart—an unredeemed dreariness of thought which no goading of the imagination could torture into aught of the sublime. What was it—I paused to think—what was it that so unnerved me in the contemplation of the House of Usher? It was a mystery all insoluble; nor could I grapple with the shadowy fancies that crowded upon me as I pondered. I was forced to fall back upon the unsatisfactory conclusion that while, beyond doubt, there are combinations of very simple natural objects which have the power of thus affecting us, still the analysis of this power lies among considerations beyond our depth. It was possible, I reflected, that a mere different arrangement of the particulars of the scene, of the details of the picture, would be sufficient to modify, or perhaps to annihilate its capacity for sorrowful impression; and, acting upon this idea, I reined my horse to the precipitous brink of a black and lurid tarn that lay in unruffled luster by the dwelling, and gazed down—but with a shudder even more thrilling than before—upon the remodeled and inverted images of the gray sedge, and the ghastly tree stems, and the vacant and eye-like windows.
—The Fall of the House of Usher, EA Poe

An architectural doppelganger reflecting a ruined soul: dilapidated planks of mahogany and cypress wood perched feebly on a grim foundation of long-dead leaves, black musk, patchouli, galbanum, tobacco absolute, fragonia, and oakmoss.

A HOWL IN THE DARKNESS
At last there came a time when the driver went further afield than he had yet gone, and during his absence, the horses began to tremble worse than ever and to snort and scream with fright. I could not see any cause for it, for the howling of the wolves had ceased altogether. But just then the moon, sailing through the black clouds, appeared behind the jagged crest of a beetling, pine-clad rock, and by its light I saw around us a ring of wolves, with white teeth and lolling red tongues, with long, sinewy limbs and shaggy hair. They were a hundred times more terrible in the grim silence which held them than even when they howled. For myself, I felt a sort of paralysis of fear. It is only when a man feels himself face to face with such horrors that he can understand their true import.

When I could see again the driver was climbing into the caleche, and the wolves disappeared. This was all so strange and uncanny that a dreadful fear came upon me, and I was afraid to speak or move. The time seemed interminable as we swept on our way, now in almost complete darkness, for the rolling clouds obscured the moon.
—Dracula, Bram Stoker

A scent evocative of a forest at midnight, with animalic brown musk, wild sage, Terebinth pine, black oak, and a chilly shock of terror personified by kunzea, cistus labdanum, verbena, juniper, metallic ozone, and white mint.

THE INFERNAL LOVER
She ceased. While She spoke, a thousand opposing sentiments combated in Ambrosio’s bosom. Surprise at the singularity of this adventure, Confusion at her abrupt declaration, Resentment at her boldness in entering the Monastery, and Consciousness of the austerity with which it behooved him to reply, such were the sentiments of which He was aware; But there were others also which did not obtain his notice. He perceived not, that his vanity was flattered by the praises bestowed upon his eloquence and virtue; that He felt a secret pleasure in reflecting that a young and seemingly lovely Woman had for his sake abandoned the world, and sacrificed every other passion to that which He had inspired: Still less did He perceive that his heart throbbed with desire, while his hand was pressed gently by Matilda’s ivory fingers.
—The Monk, MG Lewis

A creamy, sensual, honeyed red musk.

ECCLESIASTICAL EXCESSES
Hark, Ambrosio, while I unveil your crimes! You have shed the blood of two innocents; Antonia and Elvira perished by your hand. That Antonia whom you violated, was your Sister! That Elvira whom you murdered, gave you birth! Tremble, abandoned Hypocrite! Inhuman Parricide! Incestuous Ravisher! Tremble at the extent of your offences! And you it was who thought yourself proof against temptation, absolved from human frailties, and free from error and vice! Is pride then a virtue? Is inhumanity no fault? Know, vain Man! That I long have marked you for my prey: I watched the movements of your heart; I saw that you were virtuous from vanity, not principle, and I seized the fit moment of seduction. I observed your blind idolatry of the Madonna’s picture. I bade a subordinate but crafty spirit assume a similar form, and you eagerly yielded to the blandishments of Matilda. Your pride was gratified by her flattery; Your lust only needed an opportunity to break forth; You ran into the snare blindly, and scrupled not to commit a crime which you blamed in another with unfeeling severity. It was I who threw Matilda in your way; It was I who gave you entrance to Antonia’s chamber; It was I who caused the dagger to be given you which pierced your Sister’s bosom; and it was I who warned Elvira in dreams of your designs upon her Daughter, and thus, by preventing your profiting by her sleep, compelled you to add rape as well as incest to the catalogue of your crimes. Hear, hear, Ambrosio! Had you resisted me one minute longer, you had saved your body and soul. The guards whom you heard at your prison door came to signify your pardon. But I had already triumphed: My plots had already succeeded. Scarcely could I propose crimes so quick as you performed them. You are mine, and Heaven itself cannot rescue you from my power. Hope not that your penitence will make void our contract. Here is your bond signed with your blood; You have given up your claim to mercy, and nothing can restore to you the rights which you have foolishly resigned. Believe you that your secret thoughts escaped me? No, no, I read them all! You trusted that you should still have time for repentance. I saw your artifice, knew its falsity, and rejoiced in deceiving the deceiver! You are mine beyond reprieve: I burn to possess my right, and alive you quit not these mountains.
—The Monk, MG Lewis

Faustian depravity: daemonorops, rose-infused frankincense, vetiver, mate absolute, and clove bud.

ENCROACHING MADNESS
It is the strangest yellow, that wall-paper! It makes me think of all the yellow things I ever saw—not beautiful ones like buttercups, but old foul, bad yellow things.

I don’t blame her a bit. It must be very humiliating to be caught creeping by daylight!
—The Yellow Wallpaper, Charlotte Perkins Gilman

A yellow smell. Old foul, bad yellow things. Honeysuckle, chrysanthemum, balsam, hydrangea, and helichrysum.

THE SHADOWY AND THE SUBLIME
Meanwhile, the deep impression made by this unknown tormentor, the monk, and especially by his prediction of the death of Bianchi, remained upon his mind, and he once more determined to ascertain, if possible, the true nature of the portentous visitant, and what were the motives which induced him thus to haunt his footsteps and interrupt his peace. He was awed by the circumstances which had attended the visitations of the monk, if monk it was; by the suddenness of his appearance, and departure; by the truth of his prophecies; and, above all, by the solemn event which had verified his last warning; and his imagination, thus elevated by wonder and painful curiosity, was prepared for something above the reach of common conjecture, and beyond the accomplishment of human agency. His understanding was sufficiently clear and strong to teach him to detect many errors of opinion, that prevailed around him, as well as to despise the common superstitions of his country, and in the usual state of his mind, he probably would not have paused for a moment on the subject before him; but his passions were not interested, and his fancy awakened, and, though he was unconscious of this propensity, he would, perhaps, have been somewhat disappointed, to have suddenly from the region of fearful sublimity to which he had soared —the world of terrible shadows— to the earth, on which he daily walked, and to an explanation simply natural.
—The Italian, Ann Radcliffe

A sudden and shocking insight into the vast, ineffable, overwhelming power of Nature, stirred by a vision or experience of perfected beauty and perfected terror, that changes the soul irretrievably. An epiphany: Moroccan amber, wisteria, ambergris accord, white rose, magnolia, white mint, angelica, bergamot, and myrrh.

THE MADWOMAN
In the deep shade, at the farther end of the room, a figure ran backwards and forwards. What it was, whether beast or human being, one could not, at first sight tell: it grovelled, seemingly, on all fours; it snatched and growled like some strange wild animal: but it was covered with clothing, and a quantity of dark, grizzled hair, wild as a mane, hid its head and face.
—Jane Eyre, Charlotte Bronte

Dusty white sandalwood, ragged cloth, and a dry, long-dead bridal bouquet.

ODD PORTENTS
“Isaac, you dreamed your ill dream on this Wednesday morning. What time was it when you saw the fair woman with the knife in her hand?”

“This Wednesday is your birthday, Isaac, and two o’clock in the morning was the time when you were born.”
—Brother Morgan’s Story of the Dream-Woman, wilkie Collins

Black rose, olibanum, dark musk, myrrh, blackcurrant, lavender buds, bourbon geranium, and amber incense.

THE UNSAVORY GRAVE-DIGGERS
“The great thing is not to be afraid. Now, between you and me, I don’t want to hang–that’s practical; but for all cant, Macfarlane, I was born with a contempt. Hell, God, Devil, right, wrong, sin, crime, and all the old gallery of curiosities –they may frighten boys, but men of the world, like you and me, despise them. Here’s to the memory of Gray!”

Seemingly Macfarlane was affected in the same direction; for, though he made no reply, he stopped the horse, passed the reins to his companion, got down, and proceeded to kindle the remaining lamp. They had by that time got no farther than the cross-road down to Auchenclinny. The rain still poured as though the deluge were returning, and it was no easy matter to make a light in such a world of wet and darkness. When at last the flickering blue flame had been transferred to the wick and began to expand and clarify, and shed a wide circle of misty brightness round the gig, it became possible for the two young men to see each other and the thing they had along with them. The rain had moulded the rough sacking to the outlines of the body underneath; the head was distinct from the trunk, the shoulders plainly modelled; something at once spectral and human riveted their eyes upon the ghastly comrade of their drive.
—The Body-Snatchers, RL Stevenson

An unearthed oakwood coffin, cemetery weeds, and a hint of booze.

THE UNSTEADY GOVERNESS
It made me, the sound of the words, in which it seemed to me that I caught for the very first time a small faint quaver of consenting consciousness—it made me drop on my knees beside the bed and seize once more the chance of possessing him. “Dear little Miles, dear little Miles, if you KNEW how I want to help you! It’s only that, it’s nothing but that, and I’d rather die than give you a pain or do you a wrong—I’d rather die than hurt a hair of you. Dear little Miles”—oh, I brought it out now even if I SHOULD go too far—”I just want you to help me to save you!” But I knew in a moment after this that I had gone too far. The answer to my appeal was instantaneous, but it came in the form of an extraordinary blast and chill, a gust of frozen air, and a shake of the room as great as if, in the wild wind, the casement had crashed in. The boy gave a loud, high shriek, which, lost in the rest of the shock of sound, might have seemed, indistinctly, though I was so close to him, a note either of jubilation or of terror. I jumped to my feet again and was conscious of darkness. So for a moment we remained, while I stared about me and saw that the drawn curtains were unstirred and the window tight. “Why, the candle’s out!” I then cried.
“It was I who blew it, dear!” said Miles.
—The Turn of the Screw, Henry James

White tea and violet leaf.

And lo! – what have we here? Looks like the Halloween update went live on Friday the 13th…

Says a lot about the US, doesn’t it?

A base of bitter dark chocolate with thirteen baneful and beneficial bits including pimento berry, pink pepper, tolu balsam, bergamot, golden honey, tobacco absolute, champaca flower, and paprika.

Thirteen will be live until the fourteenth, as is our custom, and the Halloweenies will be live until the November Lunacy comes down. All the Halloweenies are $20, and the Pomegranate Grove is $97.

++ NEVERWHERE

ANESTHESIA
A scent that slips through the cracks: peppermint, lavender, bergamot, and mandrake.

MR. CROUP
Pompous and predatory: tonka bean, black musk, bourbon geranium, nd crushed porcelain.

DOOR
Golden honey, nicotiana, blue chamomile, and cistus.

THE FLOATING MARKET
A cacophony of curious scents: copaiba balsam, petitgrain, citrus rind, sinicuichi accord, betel nut, wasabi root, coconut palm, and wattleseed layered atop innumerable strange herbs, spices, and woods.

HUNTER
Leonine amber, tanned hides, clove, and clary sage.

LAMIA
Deadly elegance: pale orchid, vanilla amber, black currant, white peach, champaca, coconut, Arabian myrrh, Burmese vetiver, and oude.

THE MARQUIS de CARABAS
A splash of bay rum, leather, dusty black wool, massoia bark, and opium residue.

NIGHT’S BRIDGE
Stone and darkness.

THE RAT SPEAKERS
A snuffling, brown scent: earthy patchouli, sage, russet sandalwood, grimy leather, fig leaf, and lemongrass.

MR. VANDEMAR
Dark and gangly, with a glint of razor-sharp stainless steel behind it: opopponax, costus, black pepper, black sandalwood, and polished metal.

THE VELVETS
Smooth inky musk, cathedral incense, ylang ylang, violet leaf, rose-infused amber, red sandalwood, and iris.

The Neverwhere scents are part of an ongoing not-for-profit project, and proceeds from the sales of all Neil-inspired perfumes go to benefit the Comic Book Legal Defense Fund, which works to preserve and protect the First Amendment rights of the comics community.
—–
Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab is thrilled to present their first collaboration with the wonderful people at Boom! Studios. The first scents in Black Phoenix’s new Boom! line are inspired by Mark Waid’s phenomenal comic book series, Irredeemable:

What if you go from, you know, Captain America to Doctor Doom? What if you go from Superman to Lex Luthor? How do you go from being the greatest hero in the world — someone that everybody knows, and everybody loves, and everyone recognizes — to the greatest villain in the world? What is that path? It’s not a light switch, it’s not an on-off switch, it’s not something that you wake up one day and just become evil. – Mark Waid

++ IRREDEEMABLE

PLUTONIAN
Soapy cleanliness sullied by blood and ashes.

BETTE NOIR
Benzoin, wild plum, smoky amber, bergamot, orange blossom, myrrh, and dark berries.

KAIDAN
Rosehip, plum blossom, white sandalwood, jonquil, and amber-laden incense.

ALANA PATEL
Faded perfume, cigarette smoke, and gin.

MR. QUBIT
Gleaming metal, electrical discharge, and a whiff of tinny cologne.

VOLT
Leather with a shock of eucalyptus, green mint, elemi, ravintsara and lime.

YUREI
White tea, hibiscus, Arabian sandalwood, white amber, white tea, ho leaf, pale Japanese flowers, and vetiver.
—–

Also debuting at C2E2 – the first in a line of Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab scents inspired by Top Cow’s Witchblade!

++ WITCH BLADE

THE CURATOR
Mysterious herbs and ancient resins. Dust settled on ancient relics, both holy and malevolent.

DET. PATRICK GLEASON
A classic men’s cologne splashed over a leather trenchcoat and a hint of gunshot residue.

SARA PEZZINI
A hint of leather and an understated vintage musk layered over the scent of lightly perspiring, honey-dusted skin.

WITCHBLADE
Antediluvian, sacred metal, glowing red musk, blessed frankincense, and antiqued amber.

The Witchblade perfume was created to layer seamlessly with Sara Pezzini’s scent, and is made to be worn with all of the future Black Phoenix scents inspired by Witchblade wielders.

Proceeds from every bottle sold from the Top Cow Witchblade series go to the Hero Initiative, the first federally recognized not-for-profit organization dedicated to helping comic book creators, writers and artists in need. Founded in late 2000 by a consortium of comic book and trade publishers including Marvel Comics, Image Comics, Dark Horse Comics, Wizard Entertainment, CrossGen Comics and Dynamic Forces Inc., the 501©(3) charity aims to assist comic creators with health, medical, and quality-of-life assistance.
—–

In addition, Black Phoenix will be debuting a scent created solely to benefit the CBLDF:

BANNED IN BOSTON
Banned in Boston was a phrase coined in the 19th century that was used to describe material, be it a motion picture, photograph, literary work, or other work of art, that contained objectionable or obscene content. Boston city officials and the Watch and Ward Society took their lead from the Comstock Law, which prohibited obscene materials from being distributed via the US Mail service, and formed their own strict censorship guidelines. Provocative or offensive material was prohibited from distribution or exhibition within Boston city limits.

The effect was much like that of the RIAA’s Parental Advisory tags: if something was Banned in Boston, it only served to pique interest and spike sales or attendance.

Obscene, lewd, lascivious, and decidedly objectionable. A filthy, post-coitus scent: sweaty and sweet, laced with laudanum, splashed with booze, and stained by tobacco.

(Please note: the Banned in Boston label is NSFW.)

Yeah, I might have to get that one too, just because…

The set is called BLACK HELICOPTERS OVER BLACK PHOENIX and each 5ml perfume oil bottle is $20. They are “Presented in a suspicious amber apothecary glass vial,” and no samples (Imps) are available for this series. You can probably join a decant circle to get Imp-sized decants at the sinandsalvation or bpalmarketplace communities on Live Journal, or at the BPAL forum. The series is available until May 29th, 2010, so there is time to get decants, test the scents, and make decisions on bottle purchases. Oh — and every purchase of a Black Helicopter blend comes with an imp’s ear of Tin Foil Hat. It doesn’t get any cooler than that!

THE AURORA SPACESHIP TAKES A DIVE
Alas, poor spaceman!
We hardly knew you before
You smashed the windmill

On April 17, 1897, an alien spaceship appeared in the skies over Aurora, Texas. It came in too low, flying through the Aurora town square, and then hobbled north towards Judge Proctor’s farm. There, it smashed into a windmill and exploded, destroying the judge’s house and flower garden in a deluge of tons of debris and wreckage. The townspeople hurried to the scene, where they found the horribly burnt and disfigured corpse of the alien pilot. The kindly people of Aurora buried the unfortunate alien, keeping his gravesite a secret from curious onlookers.

Texas thistle, bluebell, red corn poppy, magnolia, sunflower, cedar sage, and smashed, flaming windmill.

THE COMMITTEE OF 300: MEETING MINUTES
Who knows who you are?
You control all of the world,
Shadow government.

The East India Trading Company, in cahoots with the British aristocracy, founded the Committee of 300, or Olympians, in 1727. Utilizing wealth amassed via the burgeoning opium trade, the Olympians began to control worldwide commerce, politics, media, and the military forces of countless nations to further their vision of a New World Order. Through media manipulation, the instigation of limited, concentrated wars, the destruction of natural resources, the annihilation of religious beliefs and practices, international political and social convulsions, and the forced collapse of national economies through artificial depressions and market exploitation, the Olympians plan on subjugating the “surplus population” of the world.

An ominous round table for the quintessential Round Table Group: polished wood, tobacco smoke, faded cologne, and neon discharge.

ILLUMINATI COTILLION
The All-Seeing Eye
Will extend its tentacles
To crush all nations.

The great strength of our Order lies in its concealment; let it never appear in any place in its own name, but always covered by another name, and another occupation. – Attributed to Adam Weishaupt

Ceremonial incense, pipe tobacco, temple roses, and shittim wood.

MENACING IONOSPHERIC RESEARCH INSTRUMENT
Bright, gleaming weapons
Are housed out in broad daylight
Squishing my brain waves.

The HAARP research facility in Alaska houses top secret weaponry that is utilized to down aircraft and trigger massive power outages, for meteorological manipulation, and to instigate “natural” disasters. The power housed at HAARP can be used to control minds and produce effects in humans that are indistinguishable from Chronic Fatigue Syndrome and Gulf War Syndrome.

Electrically charged white amber, violet, sage, mint, and neroli flanked by dazzling metals and shining wires.

THE MONTAUK PROJECT
Vile weapons spawned in
A mysterious sanctum
Yes, Tesla still lives.

The government’s most dangerous and fantastic experiments are conducted in Montauk, home to the real Men in Black. Mind-shattering psychological weapons are developed in top-secret facilities, where researchers also investigate invisibility, psychic and psionic power, and travel through hyperspace, alternate dimensions, and time.

Breathtaking native flora concealing a bastion of covert government experiments: shagbark hickory, sassafras, black gum, bald cypress, pine, dogwood, wild comfrey, swamp sunflower, and trumpet creeper.

PHANTOM TIME HYPOTHESIS
Charlemagne? Fiction.
What is the date anyway?
Three-hundred year lie.

This year is, in actuality, AD 1713.

A traditional Medieval perfume that never existed: balm, benzoin, damask rose, gumdragon, lignum aloes, orange water, ambergris, and vegetal musk.

REPTOID DOMINION
Reptile overlords
We serve you unknowingly.
Hello, Antichrist.

Monoatomic gold isn’t the only thing that fuels their formidable powers; they can also utilize human fear, aggression, guilt, frustration, and anger to the same end. In order to promote the chaos and discord necessary for generating as much of these negative human emotions as possible, the Watchers crossbred with specifically selected influential humans. There were three primary breeding programs: the first resulted in the creation of the creature that the Bible calls Adam. To date, the vast majority of political and financial leaders of the world are half-reptile, and they have a vice-grip on all aspects of human society. The prophesied False Messiah, (the Antichrist, or Dajjal), will be a product of the unholy union of Watcher and human.

Malevolent superintelligent para-dimensional shapeshifting reptoid musk.

SKYTYPING WITH CHEMTRAILS
Debilitating
Biological agents
Chemtrails are skydoom

Those slashes of white vapor in the sky aren’t harmless condensation trails caused by aircraft engine exhaust and wingtip vortices; they are streams of biological agents deliberately dispersed into the atmosphere by government agencies in order to destabilize society by diminishing the physical and mental capacities of the proletariat. The chemicals in these so-called contrails serve multiple purposes that all work to further the agenda of the New World Order: electromagnetic mind control and bio-tracking, low-level population culling, and inducing physical weakness and mental apathy. All these effects move towards the goal of making the world’s people malleable and complacent so they will, in the end, prostrate themselves willingly to the One Government.

Incapacitating poofiness: spun sugar, white amber, white musk, citron, and lemongrass masking a sinister, almost chemical undernote of elemi, zdravetz, and ravintsara.

STAGED MOON LANDING
O, moon landing hoax.
Incontrovertible proof:
Fake rocks, fake footage.

Determined to win the space race at any cost, the US government staged moon landings in an empty hangar at Area 51 in the Nevada desert and presented the spurious footage to the world as fact.

Prop moon rocks: muguet, orris, white sandalwood, galbanum, cistus, and dusty vanilla.

TEATIME IN ROSWELL
Weather balloon? No.
An alien autopsy,
A cover story.

In July of 1947, the US Air Force recovered the crash debris of multiple alien spacecrafts from a ranch close to Roswell, NM. Several aliens survived, but many perished. Both the living and the dead extraterrestrials were transported, in secret, to Hangar 18 at the Wright-Patterson Air Force Base, along with the flying saucer wreckage. The US government performed a quick, efficient cover-up: witnesses were silenced, and a press release was issued the next day claiming that the fallen craft was a weather balloon.

Aliens at high tea: Earl Grey, biscuits, Battenberg cake, and strangely-glowing cucumber sandwiches.

TRAIPSING THROUGH THE CROP CIRCLES
Mystery doodle
Vast: in corn, maize, or barley
Aliens or what?

Alien navigational landmarks? Extraterrestrial communications? Plasma vortices? Manifestations of the mystic power of ley lines?

Miles and miles of flattened wheat, barley, and maize.

all scent descriptions and copy from the Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab website.

Instead, it was someone else’s eBay win. Someone else’s very, very expensive eBay win.

I kind of did this O_O and then this :O and very carefully wrapped everything back up and e-mailed Puddin’ (the fellow in charge of the Black Phoenix Trading Post, Beth’s husband, and a really cool guy) asking what address he wanted me to ship it back to. There was no way I could keep it — I know how rare the scent is, and someone paid a lot of hard-earned money for it (and I was definitely shipping it back insured, because I would just die if something went wrong between here & CA)!

Puddin’ gave me the address to ship it back to, and said he was going to send me a little something extra in my box with the remainder of my order, and I thought that was incredibly sweet but told him he didn’t have to. He did anyway, and I’m now the proud owner of a prototype room spray and a limited edition room spray from earlier in the year (Valentine’s Day release). I was absurdly gleeful when I got those, and thought Dude, the Lab is so awesome!

Well, this past week, I got another box from the Lab, and wondered if it was my most recent order just showing up with no CnS — this happens occasionally when the USPS software is being wonky. So I opened the box, and got the surprise of my life: another note thanking me for my honesty, and THREE PROTOTYPE BOTTLES OF OILS FROM AN UPCOMING COLLECTION! O_O

DUDE. The Lab is AWESOME!!

I sent the eBay win back because it was the right thing to do — I never expected any kind of gift for doing that, but omg I’m just so overwhelmed by how generous and lovely the Labbies are. And if anyone ever says they are anything other than that, I will smack them upside the head!

Secondly, I ran into this article and am a little on the O_O side.

I can see where it would affect the big, well-known bloggers, and the ones who do this as a semi-professional, or even professional thing, but what about those of us who do it out of love for various products, etc.? Are we still at risk for fines and such?

Well, I guess, to be on the safe side, I should state clearly and plainly, I do not receive free products from any of the companies or people I blog about. I purchase everything myself (with the express exception of free samples/free bottles from BPAL that anyone ordering from them gets (2 samples per bottle ordered, free bottles sometimes with large orders) and a couple of gifts because the Lab is Just That AWESOME).

(Someone want to tell me how to NOT automatically generate ‘possibly related posts’? O.o)

I should have posted these when they were first released, but they’re still available until November 5th:

It’s August… and you know what that means at BPAL -

++ HALLOWEENIES
BITE ME
Well, we *are* doing a vampire update finally.

Croquembouche with almond silk and a drizzle of caramel.

BOO
Eerie billows of spun sugar, fluttering white cotton, and sheets of cream.

CARLIN
The Spirit of the Eve of Samhain, an aspect of Cailleach, the Divine Hag, in her Destroyer aspect.

While Brìghde rules the time between Beltane and Sahmain, Cailleach rules the Dark of the Year. On the night of Samhain, she transforms into Carlin, harbingering the death of the land and the onset of the snows. On Beltane, the Great Crone is slain by Brìghde so springtime can reinvigorate the land.

Black sage, ivy-twined rowan, thistle, snapdragon, heather, gorse, fumitory, and anise.

CREEPY 2009
A return of 2006′s Ridiculous Scent! As creepy as Spooky was spooky, this is the scent of butterscotch-kissed, caramel-smothered red apples spiked with a blast of coconut rum.

DEVIL’S NIGHT 2009
Devil’s Eve, Devil’s Night, Gate Night, Trick Night, Mischief Night; whatever your name for it might be, the chaos is still the same. Contrary to popular belief, this festival of pandemonium isn’t unique to Detroit. Falling on October 30th, it is an evening of mayhem and destruction. On the gentler side, it may be celebrated by practical jokes, an egging, Ding-Dong-Ditch, or enthusiastic TP’ing of your most hated neighbor’s trees, and on the more violent side, arson and vandalism.

This is the scent of autumn night, fires in the distance, with a touch of boozy swoon, playful sugar and thuggish musk.

DIA DE LOS MUERTOS 2009
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.

FEEDING THE DEAD
A barrel of beer, a pyramid of cakes, and three sticks of incense.

THE HELL-GATE OF IRELAND
The Cave of Cruachan in Connaught, a province that was given to the Formorians after the Battle of Mag Tuired. On the first of November, a flock of malevolent copper-colored birds bursts forth from the mouth of the cave, ushering a host of restless ghosts and wicked goblins that torment the living by blighting crops, killing livestock, stealing away brides-to-be, and replacing infants with changelings.

Smoldering brimstone, bitter labdanum, clove, black musk, and copper-colored feathers.

LAMBS-WOOL
According to William Shepard Walsh, the Gentleman’s Magazine for May of 1784 stated, “this is a constant ingredient at merrymaking on Holy Eve.” He also quotes Vallancey’s etymological speculation: “The first day of November was dedicated to the angel presiding over fruits, seeds, etc., and was therefore named La Mas Ubhal, — that is, the day of the apple fruit, — and being pronounced Lamasool, the English have corrupted the name to Lambs-wool.”

A popular holy day beverage in 18th century Ireland: roasted apples mashed into warmed milk and ale, with nutmeg, sugar, ginger, and clove.

POMONA
I am the ancient apple-queen.
As once I was so am I now –
For evermore a hope unseen
Betwixt the blossom and the bough.

The Roman festival for Pomona, Goddess of fruit, orchards, and gardens, was celebrated on November 1. On this day, the stores amassed during summer were opened for winter.

Azaroles, nuts, and apple blossoms with red apple pulp, mulberry, blackberry, and pomegranate juice.

SAMHAIN 2009
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.

SUCK IT
A companion to Bite Me. Layers well with Lick It. Hee!

Sexy and suckable: black cherry brandy.

TRICK OR TREAT 2009
The sticky sweet scent of candy corn! Even cornier for 2009! – cuz corny is how we roll at BPAL.

(Sorry to be a spoilsport, but please don’t suck Suck Me or bite Bite Me. Don’t lick them, drink them, or put them where your bathing suit covers.)

Pumpkin Patch I
Pumpkin, almond, brown musk, and honey.

Pumpkin Patch II
Pumpkin, rosewood, red sandalwood, and tea rose.

Pumpkin Patch III
Pumpkin, fir needle, pitch, rosemary, and tomato.

Pumpkin Patch IV
Pumpkin, black musk, tobacco, myrrh, and clove.

Pumpkin Patch V
Pumpkin, chocolate, coffee bean, vanilla bean, and hazelnut.

PUMPKIN BOOTY
If you purchase Pumpkin Booty, you will receive an imp of Tattie Bogle: a scent created to compliment and complete the collection.

A soon like pincils on a sclate,
Be on yer way an’ dinna wait.
Ye can be shair as onything
Ye’ve heard the tattie-bogle sing.

Hay, gunpowder, patchouli, autumn herbs, and sun-baked wood.

The next part of our Halloween LE update was spoilered a bit by Bite Me and Suck It. Ah, well -

It was a rapid, distracting, and devouring infatuation that possessed me; all day long I followed her about like a dog, every night I dreamed of that white glowing face, those steadfast black eyes, those moist scarlet lips, and each morning I rose more languid than I had been the day before. Sometimes I dreamt that she was kissing me with those red lips, while I shivered at the contact of her silky black tresses as they covered my throat; sometimes that we were floating in the air, her arms about me and her long hair enveloping us both like an inky cloud, while I lay supine and helpless.

Poppy flowers, peat, sphagnum moss, gardenia, and white water lily.

CLARIMONDE
(La Morte Amoureuse, Theophile Gautier)
I do not know whether it was an illusion or a reflection of the lamplight, but it seemed to me that the blood was again commencing to circulate under that lifeless pallor, although she remained all motionless. I laid my hand lightly on her arm; it was cold, but not colder than her hand on the day when it touched mine at the portals of the church. I resumed my position, bending my face above her, and bathing her cheeks with the warm dew of my tears. Ah, what bitter feelings of despair and helplessness, what agonies unutterable did I endure in that long watch! Vainly did I wish that I could have gathered all my life into one mass that I might give it all to her, and breathe into her chill remains the flame which devoured me. The night advanced, and feeling the moment of eternal separation approach, I could not deny myself the last sad sweet pleasure of imprinting a kiss upon the dead lips of her who had been my only love. . . . Oh, miracle! A faint breath mingled itself with my breath, and the mouth of Clarimonde responded to the passionate pressure of mine. Her eyes unclosed, and lighted up with something of their former brilliancy; she uttered a long sigh, and uncrossing her arms, passed them around my neck with a look of ineffable delight. “Ah, it is thou, Romuald!” she murmured in a voice languishingly sweet as the last vibrations of a harp. “What ailed thee, dearest? I waited so long for thee that I am dead; but we are now betrothed; I can see thee and visit thee. Adieu, Romuald, adieu! I love thee. That is all I wished to tell thee, and I give thee back the life which thy kiss for a moment recalled. We shall soon meet again.”

Her head fell back, but her arms yet encircled me, as though to retain me still. A furious whirlwind suddenly burst in the window, and entered the chamber. The last remaining leaf of the white rose for a moment palpitated at the extremity of the stalk like a butterfly’s wing, then it detached itself and flew forth through the open casement, bearing with it the soul of Clarimonde. The lamp was extinguished, and I fell insensible upon the bosom of the beautiful dead.

Pallid skin musk, white roses, and a languorous vapor of Oriental perfume.

CRISTINA
(For the Blood is the Life, F. Marion Crawford)
He was near the village now; it was half an hour since the sun had set, and the cracked church bell sent little discordant echoes across the rocks and ravines to tell all good people that the day was done. Angelo stood still a moment where the path forked, where it led toward the village on the left, and down to the gorge on the right, where a clump of chestnut trees overhung the narrow way. He stood still a minute, lifting his battered hat from his head and gazing at the fast-fading sea westward, and his lips moved as he silently repeated the familiar evening prayer. His lips moved, but the words that followed them in his brain lost their meaning and turned into others, and ended in a name that he spoke aloud — Cristina!

She had him fast now, and he could not escape her, but would come to her every evening at dusk until she had drained him of his last drop of blood. It was in vain that when the day was done he tried to take another turning and to go home by a path that did not lead near the gorge. It was in vain that he made promises to himself each morning at dawn when he climbed the lonely way up from the shore to the village. It was all in vain, for when the sun sank burning into the sea, and the coolness of the evening stole out as from a hiding-place to delight the weary world, his feet turned toward the old way, and she was waiting for him in the shadow under the chestnut trees; and then all happened as before, and she fell to kissing his white throat even as she flitted lightly down the way, winding one arm about him.

Chestnut trees, juniper berries, violet leaf, labdanum, dazzling, moonlit white musk, and night-blooming summer flowers.

COUNTESS DOLINGEN OF GRATZ
(Dracula’s Guest, the omitted introduction to Bram Stoker’s Dracula)
Now and again, through the black mass of drifting cloud, came a straggling ray of moonlight, which lit up the expanse, and showed me that I was at the edge of a dense mass of cypress and yew trees. As the snow had ceased to fall, I walked out from the shelter and began to investigate more closely. It appeared to me that, amongst so many old foundations as I had passed, there might be still standing a house in which, though in ruins, I could find some sort of shelter for a while. As I skirted the edge of the copse, I found that a low wall encircled it, and following this I presently found an opening. Here the cypresses formed an alley leading up to a square mass of some kind of building. Just as I caught sight of this, however, the drifting clouds obscured the moon, and I passed up the path in darkness. The wind must have grown colder, for I felt myself shiver as I walked; but there was hope of shelter, and I groped my way blindly on.

As I leaned against the door, it moved slightly and opened inwards. The shelter of even a tomb was welcome in that pitiless tempest, and I was about to enter it when there came a flash of forked-lightning that lit up the whole expanse of the heavens. In the instant, as I am a living man, I saw, as my eyes were turned into the darkness of the tomb, a beautiful woman, with rounded cheeks and red lips, seemingly sleeping on a bier. As the thunder broke overhead, I was grasped as by the hand of a giant and hurled out into the storm. The whole thing was so sudden that, before I could realise the shock, moral as well as physical, I found the hailstones beating me down. At the same time I had a strange, dominating feeling that I was not alone. I looked towards the tomb. Just then there came another blinding flash, which seemed to strike the iron stake that surmounted the tomb and to pour through to the earth, blasting and crumbling the marble, as in a burst of flame. The dead woman rose for a moment of agony, while she was lapped in the flame, and her bitter scream of pain was drowned in the thundercrash. The last thing I heard was this mingling of dreadful sound, as again I was seized in the giant-grasp and dragged away, while the hailstones beat on me, and the air around seemed reverberant with the howling of wolves. The last sight that I remembered was a vague, white, moving mass, as if all the graves around me had sent out the phantoms of their sheeted-dead, and that they were closing in on me through the white cloudiness of the driving hail.

Hailstone-pounded cypress boughs, olibanum, and an ozone blast of lightning.

THE GIRL
(The Singular Death of Morton, Algernon Blackwood)
Then, suddenly, as they had turned to go, after much vain shouting and knocking at the door, a face appeared for an instant at a window, the shutter of which was half open. His friend saw it first, and called aloud. The face nodded in reply, and presently a young girl came round the corner of the house, apparently by a back door, and stood staring at them both from a little distance.

The strange part of it now seemed to him that he could not remember in the least how she was dressed, or what was the colouring of her eyes and hair. It was almost as though he had felt, rather than seen, her presence.

A seductive, serpentine white scent, elusive, crystalline, and spellbinding: white amber, silver birch, immortelle, davana, pale musk, star jasmine, and ylang ylang.

MIRCALLA, COUNTESS KARNSTEIN
(Carmilla, Sheridan LeFanu)
Sometimes after an hour of apathy, my strange and beautiful companion would take my hand and hold it with a fond pressure, renewed again and again; blushing softly, gazing in my face with languid and burning eyes, and breathing so fast that her dress rose and fell with the tumultuous respiration. It was like the ardor of a lover; it embarrassed me; it was hateful and yet over-powering; and with gloating eyes she drew me to her, and her hot lips traveled along my cheek in kisses; and she would whisper, almost in sobs, “You are mine, you shall be mine, you and I are one for ever.” Then she had thrown herself back in her chair, with her small hands over her eyes, leaving me trembling.

Languid, melancholy fire: red musk, purple orchid, frankincense, smoky vanilla, Styrian herbs, peru balsam, tonka, Zanzibar clove, and patchouli.

LORD RUTHVEN
(the Vampyre, John Polidori)
It happened that in the midst of the dissipations attendant upon London winter, there appeared at the various parties of the leaders of the ton a nobleman more remarkable for his singularities, than his rank. He gazed upon the mirth around him, as if he could not participate therein. Apparently, the light laughter of the fair only attracted his attention, that he might by a look quell it and throw fear into those breasts where thoughtlessness reigned. Those who felt this sensation of awe, could not explain whence it arose: some attributed it to the dead grey eye, which, fixing upon the object’s face, did not seem to penetrate, and at one glance to pierce through to the inward workings of the heart; but fell upon the cheek with a leaden ray that weighed upon the skin it could not pass. His peculiarities caused him to be invited to every house; all wished to see him, and those who had been accustomed to violent excitement, and now felt the weight of ennui, were pleased at having something in their presence capable of engaging their attention. In spite of the deadly hue of his face, which never gained a wanner tint, either from the blush of modesty, or from the strong emotion of passion, though its form and outline were beautiful, many of the female hunters after notoriety attempted to win his attentions, and gain, at least, some marks of what they might term affection: Lady Mercer, who had been the mockery of every monster shewn in drawing-rooms since her marriage, threw herself in his way, and did all but put on the dress of a mountebank, to attract his notice — though in vain; — when she stood before him, though his eyes were apparently fixed upon hers, still it seemed as if they were unperceived; — even her unappalled impudence was baffled, and she left the field. But though the common adultress could not influence even the guidance of his eyes, it was not that the female sex was indifferent to him: yet such was the apparent caution with which he spoke to the virtuous wife and innocent daughter, that few knewhenever addressed himself to females. He had, however, the reputation of a winning tongue; and whether it was that it even overcame the dread of his singular character, or that they were moved by his apparent hatred of vice, he was as often among those females who form the boast of their sex from their domestic virtues, as among those who sully it by their vices.

The father of all dandy aristocrat vampires: Aqua Admirabilis with polished boot leather and blood.

SARAH
(The Tomb of Sarah, F.G. Loring)
By half-past ten we were both getting very tired, and I began to think that perhaps after all we should see nothing that night. However, soon after eleven we observed a light mist rising from the ‘Sarah Tomb’. It seemed to scintillate and sparkle as it rose, and curled in a sort of pillar or spiral.

She looked thin and haggard still, and her face was deadly white; but the crimson lips looked like a hideous gash in the pale cheeks, and her eyes glared like red coals in the gloom of the church.

Unholy mist congealing into soft, white flesh, with black marble, remnants of liturgical incense, wolf’s fur, and black flecks of froth.

JULIA STONE
(The Room in the Tower, E.F. Benson.)
And then, with a sudden start of unexplained dismay, I saw that there were two rather conspicuous objects which I had not seen before in my dreams: one a life-sized oil painting of Mrs. Stone, the other a black-and-white sketch of Jack Stone, representing him as he had appeared to me only a week before in the last of the series of these repeated dreams, a rather secret and evil-looking man of about thirty. His picture hung between the windows, looking straight across the room to the other portrait, which hung at the side of the bed. At that I looked next, and as I looked I felt once more the horror of nightmare seize me.

It represented Mrs. Stone as I had seen her last in my dreams: old and withered and white-haired. But in spite of the evident feebleness of body, a dreadful exuberance and vitality shone through the envelope of flesh, an exuberance wholly malign, a vitality that foamed and frothed with unimaginable evil. Evil beamed from the narrow, leering eyes; it laughed in the demon-like mouth. The whole face was instinct with some secret and appalling mirth; the hands, clasped together on the knee, seemed shaking with suppressed and nameless glee. Then I saw also that it was signed in the left-hand bottom corner, and wondering who the artist could be, I looked more closely, and read the inscription, “Julia Stone by Julia Stone.”

Rotting once-white fabric, spotted with mold.

PERLE VON MAUREN
(Revelations in Black by Carl Jacobi)
I stumbled forward, my eyes quickly accustoming themselves to the half-light from the almost opaque windows.

That face – it was divinely beautiful, the hair black as sable, the cheeks a classic white. But the lips – ! I grew suddenly sick as I looked upon them. They were scarlet…. and sticky with human blood.

Heliotrope, grave soil, and blood.

Okay. I love green nail polish. At some point when I was younger, green was my favourite colour, before I decided purple was. Green is a great colour for nail polish, and it’s not all that common, although the bigger companies have been adding it to their lines more and more often. They’re not dumb — they realize when something is big with the customers!

I’m trying to figure out what’s the best Slytherin Green to wear to the HP movie, with stripes of Zoya Trixie (very silver) as a great HP Slytherin manicure. I do know some greens that aren’t right:

MAC Peppermint Patty:

and
The first picture is the first time I wore it, the second picture is a number of weeks later when I wore it again, after my nails had grown considerably. It’s a gorgeous minty green (and is not as blue as it photographs!) , but the application is difficult to say the least. It’s a pastel creme finish – cremes are bad enough, but a light colour along with it just makes it so hard to deal with. Lots of streaking and cuticle drag… I think this is 4 coats. Neither picture is showing tipwear, it’s just that one of the shots has a lot of reflection along the edges.

Misa The Grass is Greener on My Side — a pretty neon teal green. Shimmery and bright. It dries matte, but this is with a topcoat so it’s obscenely shiny!

China Glaze In the Lime Light — NEON lime green. This dries very quickly and dries matte like many neons. It has a slight shimmer, which shows up best if you use a topcoat.

Sally Hansen Insta-Dri Jumpin’ Jade — this is a specially formulated polish that dries under 1 minute. The brush is WIDE and weird, and the polish is very pigmented, but I thought it was covering in one stroke and only after I’d added a topcoat and all did I realize it was streaky and blotchy. You’d do better to do two coats, being careful not to do anything odd because it really does dry THAT fast. Here’s another picture (where you can see how uneven it is):

This colour is available now, at Target and probably CVS and other drug stores. If you love dark green/teal shimmer, I advise you grab it now while you can!

And finally, two that might actually fit the Slytherin Green. Both of these are creme finish, and other than 3 coats each and a nice shiny topcoat, both of them behave about the same.

1. Rescue Beauty Lounge Recycle:

and 2. Obsessive Compulsive Cosmetics Blackboard:

Blackboard is exactly the green of an old chalkboard from my high school (in grade school, we actually DID have blackboards, but once we got out of the old buildings, they had the green ones…). It’s a little more blue-shaded and blackened than Recycle, so I’m thinking it might not be the best for a Slytherin green. I’m pretty sure Slytherin green is a more yellow-tinted green. Recycle may be the best, or one of the ones I haven’t tried yet (Like Illamasqua Rampage…). Whichever one I end up going with, I’ll make sure to post pictures of my movie night manicure!

Moonalisa is doing a sale tomorrow (May 28th)! Check out her site at 9:30pm Eastern (6:30pm Pacific)! Don’t be late!

And BPAL’s partner, the Black Phoenix Trading Post, has a special event, an “Inquisition”, available through 5/31/09. The theme for this inquisition is Warrior Queens, and you can either “plead” your case via submitting a story or other request (someone did a great art post of her face edited into a picture that represented each queen), or just let the Trading Post decide what scent might fit you randomly (you can also request a specific scent, and they will honour it, but giving them a random request can be kind of entertaining if you’re not worried about any specific scent). Check out the Limited Edition link if you didn’t catch the one above.

And now I’m going to crash. Hugs to all!

Part of the reason that making everything and sending it out is a lengthy process is that she makes everything a completely beautiful artistic endeavour. Not only are the products amazingly high quality and the fragrances beautiful and complex, the packaging and presentation is first rate. Here are some pictures of my winter order placed on 1/1/09 and received on 3/4/09:

First, this is what you find when you open the box and remove the top layer of tissue paper:

This is my full order minus the individually boxed items:

And here are the individual boxes:

Bombs and solid lotions (the Queen Bee solid lotion didn’t photograph too well, but it’s very pretty. It’s scented with clary sage essential oil, and has a wonderful combination of very moisturizing ingredients. It’s a little soft — apparently she also makes a version in summer that’s less melty, but because this was a winter order, it’s softer. I really like it.):

Dr. Bombay bomb (Blood orange, patchouli, and ginger — it smells so good!):

Stone Cold bomb (this bomb has a rune soap inside it — you can see the rune chart in the picture):

Man in the Moon Bath Fizzy (scented in Winter Solstice, which is a blend of different Frankincense resins from around the world, Nutmeg and Labdanum Absolute):

Art House scrub, Bubbling Bubbles 4-in-1, free gift lip balm, and underneath that, the Winter Solstice soap:

Art House scrub, and a close-up of the card that comes with it. I LOVE the painting on it, and the scrub smells amazing!:

Bubbling Bubbles 4-in-1 — this is a bubble bath, shower gel, shampoo, and fabric cleaner, although I can’t bring myself to use it for laundry ’cause I’m too greedy. It comes in a lot of different fragrances — I got it in Eclipse, which is one of Moona’s signature scents, with the ingredients kept secret. It’s incensy and sultry, and is really, really good:

Freebie lip balm in Chocolate Dipped Bananas (omg yum!), in its own little organza bag — it’s a very melty balm, but it’s very nice! I’ll just have to make sure not to leave it in the car when it’s warm!):

Winter Solstice soap (my camera isn’t good enough to get the details of the soap itself, but it’s rubbed with shimmer powder, and topped with mica flakes, and is so incredibly gorgeous. It’s also HUGE — I think I’ll cut it in three parts when I can finally bring myself to use it…:

On to the individually boxed items, first we have the box that contains one of the best moisturizing creams I’ve ever used, Herbalist’s Gold. It’s a rich cream made in small batches from made from the finest almond and coconut oil, infused herbal distilled water, essential oils of Lavender and Rose Geranium ( not to be confused with rose oil), beeswax, Grapefruit seed extract, rosemary extract and aloe vera gel:

Then my two perfumes — one in Winter Solstice and one in Eclipse (they were in the gold package):

And finally, the most amazing product of all, the Egyptian Royal Jelly. This stuff is a jelly type moisturizer with the most amazing resin/incense smell (made with Red Sandalwood, Amber resin, Alkanet root, Apricot kernel oil, Borage oil, essential oils of Vetiver and Nutmeg among many different resinous essential oils). It is SO good, and although it’s highly pigmented red, it doesn’t seem to discolour even my pale skin. It’s a lovely, surprisingly light moisturizer and I love using it on my hands at night — not only does it do great things for my skin, it also smells so good while I’m drifting off…:

First, the box:

And now the little jar of wonder itself, with its gorgeous card attached. It’s in a clear glass jar — the red colour is the jelly itself:

And finally, some of the amazingly beautiful extra stuff that Moona puts into every package — lovely vintage images and beautiful cards:

So, keep an eye on her site, and sometime soon she should reopen with new products/scents for spring, and some old favourites. I’m eagerly looking forward to it!

I also have no decent natural light, because I just don’t get out during the day. I am so nocturnal it’s not funny, and work from 9am to 6:30pm, so I spend most of my life in indoor lighting…

However, I’m still stupidly taking pictures of my nails, so, here are some of the recent ones:

First, Zoya Colbie. It’s a beautiful rich red shimmer, a much better colour than this picture shows. I don’t wear bright reds — this really is not a good example of the true colour:

Next, Misa Fatal Affair. SO many other people have posted better pictures than I have, but I still figured I should post this. I put this colour on, and it refused to shimmer except under flash lighting. In all other lighting it was nearly a creme finish. So eventually I put a Nfu-oh opal colour over it, but I haven’t edited those pictures yet. Here’s the ONE picture I got that even remotely showed the beautiful colour of this polish’s shimmer:

Here’s Misa Forbidden Lust, one of the most gorgeous shimmery purples of the fall collections:

And last but not least, China Glaze Passion in the Pacific. I know Scrangie mentioned a while back that she was having trouble with her ChG polishes not drying — this was one that I had the same problem with. I put this on, and a full 24 hours later, it was STILL soft enough to dent. I ended up taking it off and putting on the Forbidden Lust mani above. BUT, it’s such a pretty colour…

That’s all for now — we have huge storms, and I still have to edit a bunch of other pictures before I can post them. If anyone out there is actually reading, *hugs!*

First, ArtOfBeauty.com only ships via UPS, so there’s a ridiculous cost there to begin with (plus I can’t have it shipped to my PO box which is the safe place for me to receive mail; instead I have to have it shipped to work because our hours keep us from being home to get UPS or FedEx packages). $6.95 shipping for the package, even if I’d only bought one polish.

However, the real problem comes from the fact that you can’t tell when you’re ordering if an item is out of stock, and unlike Amazon.com there’s no option to ask to have the shipment held until everything is available. Casey happened to be out of stock at the time, so my box with the cuticle balm and Akyra shipped by itself. $6.95 shipping, boom.

And then Casey, my free polish, shipped. For another $6.95.

I actually ended up spending $.95 more on the order than I would have if I’d got one shipment and paid for both polishes.

It’s not terrible, but it’s still a little aggravating — I’d rather know up front if something is out of stock (I’d pick something different, then), or would rather have the shipment held until the out of stock item is available, than pay overly expensive shipping, twice.

On the plus side, Akyra and Casey are beautiful colours, and Qtica cuticle balm is the best in the world.