Blog of olfactive experience

Magnificent Four – En Voyage

I learned about En Voyage Perfumes in the early 2012, when I read about Shelley Waddington’s creations in several publications on CaFleureBon. The descriptions sounded appealing, Shelley looked ingenious and affable, but my resources were limited and I couldn’t even afford ordering samples, considering their shipping would have been more than twice their price…


However, a year later, a friend of mine had a friend of hers coming back from the USA, and she offered me to be the shipping person for whatever I want. Being modest in my wishes, I ordered  a pile of samples from North American natural perfumery brands, and four En Voyage vials arrived to acquaint me with some of the most unusual (and pretty) scents I had ever tried!

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I have been a terrible mother lately. Selfish one. I want my child to be with me, enjoying her company, but to control her, as well, albeit in need of more time for myself, which I get hard and do not feel bad when I indulge in it. When she is away from me, I know it is for her own good – to diversify her experiences, to grow among other people who would paint differently her worldview, but then I am miserable, I am anxious and all her possessions scatter and gather me back like I am a cloud of dust.


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Linden Season

The lime trees exhale their last days of blossom. I will miss the sedative effect pretty hard. I will have a farnesol withdrawal, I will sneeze, I will sniff the air like a hungry cat. But separation is salutary, it makes us appraise the things that do not belong to us, for a little while or forever.


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Expectations are a ground for huge refreshing eye-openers! If you are spellbound by the immeasurable magic that is the world of perfumes, no matter a master parfumeur, or a fragrance aficionado, then you have heard of the Bulgarian Rose Valley. Well, I don’t live there. It’s in the middle of Bulgaria, almost at the geographical center of our country. But I live at the Western border, in Kyustendil, in a valley as beautiful and fertile as the Rose valley. Cherries and plums, apples and pears – those are the fruits of our region, but not roses, or anything herbal and aromatic on a large-scale production. Can you imagine my stunned face and nose, when this year I found that the prolonged April showers did bring a profusion of May flowers? Like I never knew the flow of things could go this way. Like it is the first time that many rose blooms saturate the air with their endorphin-inducing scent. Every little piece of cultivated green space has at least one rosebush. See it for yourself!

Balconies, porches, hedges…


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Battle of Leathers

The skin is the breathing on the surface. Her scent is equally the most difficult and most easily perceived kaleidoscope.In fact, there is no real “skin extract” in perfume. Recalling the naturalistic scenes from “Perfume: The Story of a Murderer” is delusional. There are birch tar and myrtle, cistus, muscone, styrax, isobutyl quinoline, cassia, juniper oil, castoreum, aldehydes, tobacco, black tea and whatnot, adding to the bitter, dusty or lacquered shades of the idea of skin. Whether you understand leather tanning and chemistry or not, skin attracts like gravity and pushes back like identical charges.king-arthur-woad-keira-knightley

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P1210188aRose of the Fall – the sun, tucked away in the folds of a fairy’s petticoat,

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Dulcet rede

P1270038aHave you overfed with sweets?

For example – cotton candy? Freshly gathered honey?

The head runs heavy, the sinuses are tightened,

a longing for an ice-cold soda. It tastes so sweet that bitters!

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Nearly forgot…Prima annusata 9

The artist in me has been stowing for a long time this summer. The summer squeezed through sheets of paper for textbook encasing, locks of sun-bleached hair and cutting holes of cider cans.

The artist must buck up, fend off the dusty thoughts and feelings, dive into autumn clouds and breathe, and breathe …


Do away and stride forward.

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Prima annusata 8

In the first days of summer, I keep sharing reflections on scents I tried over the past two months.


Weather: Spring is in full swing. As if Wormwood wine flows in streams, somewhat bitter, but quickening the juices of grass and trees, everything blooming, overflowing, flying, smiling. I am eager for everything beautiful that is coming toward me, I seem to foretell.


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Prima annusata 7

2012AA41629Lately, I have been living in a Dali’s painting. Don’t envy, it’s preposterous. A distortion from an omniscient point of view. I can clearly imagine my brain as a remnant of toothpaste squeezing itself out through my ears and my nose, my hands lifeless as a strained sling, and my feet – duly dissected, chiseled and joined again with Chinese chopsticks … Reasons – a shedload. Anxious nail biting and head scratching, paranoid glancing and twitching, depressive drowsiness and lethargy. It is fashionable, they say. But I do not want them fashion! I have to tread carefully, to look around, to listen attentively, to seek per-ma-nent-ly. This relentlessly strenuous and jading. Thence, you will forgive my long silence and absence.

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