Romancing The Brew

The artistry of scent, like all art  requires a bit of magic in the form of intangible mojo. Interjecting into the mix the emotions of desire, intention and sometimes a shameless lust to be, NOT the one outside the bottle, but the Jeanie in the bottle, the essence itself. I have been feeling that way a lot lately.
This week, as I have been on a little vacation with Mr Z being home, I am putting the finishing touches on NightJar, and Meerschaum. Nightjar is a summer floral built around a note of Mimosa Absolute, While Meerschaum is a Tobacco scent. Both are parfums for the Soivohle Naturals (soon to be renamed Signature) Collection.

 When I was a child we had a Mimosa tree in our front yard. Not the same Mimosa that the Absolute is made from, but rather the one that is covered with the big cotton candy pink blossoms in springtime. I spent a lot of time playing under that tree, and remember it well. I also remember well the sound of the Nightjar (Whippoorwill) singing its quirky evening tune. The thing that inspired me to create the scent Nightjar (aside from the Mimosa) was a strange two day event that happened about five years ago. Being in Ohio we do not have so many Nightjars, so when I heard a Whippoorwill singing one night, I went out to look for it. I imagine that I got pretty close, but never found exactly where it was. This happened two nights in a row, and then it was gone. I have continued to think about it often and eventually decided that I would dedicate a perfume to this mysterious bird that so briefly, yet profoundly crossed my path.
The Meerschaum, a tobacco scent is inspired by my Grandfathers harmonica box. Inside this beautiful wooden box he kept around five or six harmonicas, and one Meerschaum pipe. By the time I was born, my Grandpa had stopped smoking, and the pipe had been placed in permanent retirement.
For a Meerschaum the pipe was modest, with a few simple carvings. It had aged beautifully to a deep burnt sienna at the base that turned to a yellow ochre at the top of the bowl. I don't know what ever happened to the pipe. I have asked about it over the years, but no one seems to know where it went or who ended up with it.
Memories like this are the life blood of my art. Somewhat mysterious in nature. Somewhat unfinished, and hanging. Waiting for a bit of closure to round them out and send them on their way.
With scent being so closely connected to memory, it is the perfect vehicle for this kind of exploration. It is also one of the reasons why I love creating the olfactory art installations at Scentual Artistry. I can't count the times that one of the essences has put someone in touch with a memory.
Memories, the good and the bad, shape who we are, and scent is a big part of that. It is no different to me than the melody of a favorite tune or the familiar lines of a cherished poem.