#smell

كما أن تركيز العقول المبدعة في نفس الرموز البريدية القليلة – حيث يشق الناس بجرأة مساراتهم الخاصة عبر التخصصات – قد خلق أيضًا مساحة للجيلين الأول والثاني من المهاجرين لبناء علامات تجارية للعطور وفقًا لشروطهم الخاصة، مما يفسح المجال للأفكار والهويات ووجهات النظر غير التقليدية. خذ The New Savant: العلامة التجارية البالغة من العمر ست سنوات ومقرها في Gowanus تغمر شموعها بالغرابة والتعقيد، وصياغة ملفات…

أطلقت شركة Neela Vermeire Créations الفرنسية المتخصصة عطر Neith الجديد. تم تسمية نيث على اسم الإلهة المصرية. إشراق يخرج من الظلام. يبدو العطر مرنًا وطقوسيًا ومتجذرًا بعمق. حي من الداخل. تخلق الراتنجات والأخشاب والفلفل والسيبريول والكاستوريوم والعود قوة قديمة تحت قلب الأزهار. يتحدث عن التحمل والغريزة والبقاء. يبدو صدىها العاطفي عالميًا وخالدًا. *** نيث هو أحد أقدم الآلهة في البانثيون المصري:…

There's a window in my bedroom. Actually, I'm sitting right in front of the window as I'm writing this. It has occurred to me a couple times that I really like my window, and in fact, sometimes I feel such a deep and genuine appreciation for this window that I think it's only appropriate for me to record my admiration.

I have a bedroom in a four person apartment, that has a kitchen and a living room, a washer and dryer and two jack and jill bathrooms. My room isn't large, and it's just about the perfect size for my endless collection of things ( i mean it could be like a little bigger but it does its job anyways). I don't think I've mentioned this, but I'm an artist, and I dabble in many mediums, so of course I have a lot of stuff. My room comfortably (ish) fits my twin bed, and my desk and desk chair, and my dresser, and my dresser for art supplies, and it Still has room for a little closet, big enough to store bins of my various things. I cherish my room. I've adorned it in my specific kind of decoration, which can be described as junk and various items taped to the walls and covering every available surface. This room is a space that feels safe to me. It feels like a nest that I've built all on my own, that's mine and no one else's. I am god in my room, and at the center of my temple lies my window.

The window is such a substantial part of my room, I can't imagine life without it. The view from my window is a grassy slope. The back half of my apartment complex is built halfway underground, so the earth outside the window starts right at the bottom of my window sill, about three feet up my bedroom wall. It then slopes up about eight feet, and is finished on the top with a quaint collection of wild plants and weeds and all that good stuff. I live in a very mountainous town, in the mountains, and so up above my hill is another hill, that is larger and is probably looked at by a bunch more people. And above that is a road, and another hill, and some houses, and all the while there's these beautiful tall trees scattered everywhere. I couldn't tell you what kind of trees they are, but I bet I could figure it out if I really wanted to. Really, one of the most amazing things about my hill is that it feels like it's all mine. Other people live on this half of the apartment complex, actually, half of the people living here have a view of my hill, but seeing as I can't see any of them from my window, I get to live in the idea that this is mine, all mine, and no one can appreciate it like I do.

If I lean over my desk and look up and out the window, I can see the tops of the tallest trees. When the wind blows a particularly strong gust, the tallest canopies will sway and swing and make terrible creaky noises, which frightened me at first, but now brings comfort. It's fall right now, and there is an oak tree with the most vibrant collection of leaves I can ever remember seeing that gets illuminated in the afternoon, and I find myself staring at them for longer than I intend to from time to time. Sometimes, in the afternoon, especially in the summer, the sun will creep behind the trees as it sets, and cast an amber glow over my grass right outside, and I can see every blade in the most delightful shade of green and gold and beauty.

The sun. The sun is so dear to me, which it should be, of course. Oh the precious sun, which makes all of this possible. Sometimes I think about how everything I know is made because of the sun, a thought that comes to me on the days that I feel its rays on my skin, and it burns, and I wonder if the sun cares that were all down here living because of its hard work and loyalty and no one ever has any thanks to say about it. But then I remember that it probably doesn't think any of these things, because it's a ball of gas, and probably doesn't have any feelings about what's happening on Earth. ... anyways....The sun will illuminate my room, sometimes. I get a very short amount of time of direct sunlight in my room, around 3-330pm this time of year. If I'm here during that time and I'm sitting at my desk, the sun will paint little pictures on whatever I'm working on, and I have to pause for a moment to admire it. It shines on my hands and in my window sill, and my cat will bask in its rays, closing his little eyes (a moment of piece which is seldom experienced with him around). I can even tell that it happens when I'm away, because I put up four strings of beads in my window sill. There's some glow in the dark beads on there, and when they get charged by the sun during the day, they shine at night. Not very brightly, but with a glow like a quiet hum, as if they are trying to echo and retell a story that I missed.

I said that the ground starts a few inches below my window, but it would actually be more correct to say the rocks start at that height, and then the ground starts about two feet away from that. The rocks are there for flood protection, I believe, which didn't seem like it was going to defend me during the hurricane, but by some miracle the water stayed about three inches below my window and my temple stayed relatively dry. The cool thing about the rocks is that they're considerable, each one about the size of a navel orange, some a grapefruit, and things like to happen between these rocks. I deeply cherish the moments I get to look out my window and see a small pine tree or weed sprouting from between two rocks. These plants can hide in such a spot that no one will notice them, and they can be spared from the weed whacker. But I get to see. Oak tree helicopters will fly down from the sky and land right in between two rocks. Birds will notice this pattern, and come to my window to look for a snack, and me and my cat try very hard to be as still as possible so we can watch them. Recently, this is the same with a new chipmunk that's been making its rounds, quickly scampering along the side of the hill once it hears us watching it.

That's another thing- I have a cat, his name is Cosmo. We call him Momo for short. He loves to sit in the window. It's getting colder outside, and thus more difficult for me to leave the window open enough for him to sit in it, but both of us still bare it since I love the cold (and I think he does too). Every hour of the day is a good hour for Momo to sit in the window. Come rain or shine, day or night, no matter the temperature, Momo wants to sit in the window. He likes to watch the barely visible cars as they drive by on the road up above my hill, and he likes to soak in the sun and close his eyes in the afternoons. Sometimes he falls asleep in the window, and I get to watch him as he closes his eyes and lowers his head and drifts off. Most notably, Momo Loves to "hunt" things through the window. He doesn't go outside, but he will watch the subject of the hunt with such great intent and stealth that it's difficult to stay quiet while I try to hold back giggles. Sometimes bugs will crawl in from the bottom of the window, a feature that I was deeply bothered by when I first moved in about a year ago, but that I now find charming- and Momo will catch these bugs in his mouth, and bring them over to me in the bed while I sleep (how sweet). Sometimes he will also just eat the bugs right then, because you miss all opportunities never taken (or however that saying goes).

You might have caught on by now, but a very important function of my window is that it lets in the outside all the time, because I never close it. Maybe not never, on the fourth of July I closed it, and during heavy rain I close it, almost all the way. Its important for me to keep it open for a couple of reasons- I love to hear what's going on outside my window. When the birds flutter around, when the chipmunk runs, when the wind blows and shakes the trees and when the bus rides up the hill. There's a guy that lives two doors down that has a dog named Patches, and she likes to come over to my window whenever they go on walks and look inside, which results in both very funny and Very invasive experiences. Its always a toss up, the guy is apologetic though so it's ok. My upstairs neighbor plays the tuba, which is a ever present source of free musical entertainment. Some other collection of neighbors likes to watch sports loudly and yell at the tv, which is great or whatever. Sometimes townsfolk with sawed off mufflers ride on the road in the wee small hours of the morning, the roar of their mutilated cars echoing and amplifying between the hills. With my window open I can exist in something other than these four walls. Something a little bigger, a little more natural, more real.

I also never close my window because it lets the smell of the outside in. It smells different with each day, with each season. In the spring, its all cold in the morning, smelling thin and sharp, and it warms up by the afternoon. The bugs are well and alive, and sometimes the rain leeches into the ground and brings out the smell of the earth. In the summer, it smells wet and warm and rich, like metal and growth. The heat leaks in through the window and sticks around past when the sun goes down, when I wish I could open the window even wider to let the heat out and the night in.

In the fall, the scent of the outdoors is so sweet and full, with the crisp mornings of late fall reaching into every corner of my nose so much so that I can almost taste the decaying leaves and damp winds. The hill is cast in a sheen of umber and the trees change and change until every multicolored leaf eventually ends up on the ground, wedged between the rocks or pressed up against the window screen.

I like to never close my window, except for on nights when its so bitterly cold that I cant sleep, though I like to crack it open very slightly and breathe in the smell of cold air when I wake up in the morning. The feeling is almost like some kind of drug. It can feel like menthol, so cold and light and bright and clean, it travels up my nose and next to my eyes and I feel like I'm here right now. I love the cold. I like to sit at my desk and work on my projects, and feel my fingers slowing down because of how the cold air blankets itself over my desk as it flows in through the window and seeps into my muscles and weighs them down. My nose feels numb at the tip and I get to put on a comfy sweater or a blanket and sit at my desk and play, and maybe, just maybe I'll turn the heater on and warm up my toes.

I like to put things in my window. Before I had a cat it was a lot easier to artfully decorate the sill with various stacked rocks and jewelry, scrap metal, sticks, anything I found to be beautiful. Now it's a little blurrier, my rock sculptures have become just some rocks and my jewelry goes missing from time to time, and the bricks laid up against the window screen outside which work to keep the cat contained are somehting I'm trying to see as both functional and decorative. But still, some things stay. The wire bug creature an ex-friends-artist-relative gave to me hangs on the screen, its little feet hooking through the holes in the screen and keeping it held tight. The bag of floral spider repellant sits in the corner (very necessary in the summer months when the spiders repopulate and agree with me on how awesome my room is). Sometimes I will burn incense in the window sill. I don't do it often, mainly because the smoke ends up just going right out the window and it kind of defeats the purpose of lighting it in my room in the first place. But when I light one for more of what I guess you could call a meditative purpose, I can put it in the window and watch it dance. Watch the smoke come up in its flowing way and get sucked out the window, where it dances differently now broken up into tiny strings as it's forced through the screen. I feel like its a way to give back to the window. I learn so much as I look through it, I'm able to hear so much and smell so much and see so much and feel so much. I like to decorate it with the things that I find beautiful because it deserves that.

Do you like it too?

أطلقت شركة Niche Line Byredo عطر Oboro الجديد للجنسين. Oboro حصريًا لليابان. مشتق من الكلمة اليابانية “oboro” والتي تعني “ضبابي” أو “ضبابي”، ويعبر هذا العطر عن جمال الغموض. مستوحى من الانطباعات والذكريات العابرة التي تتلاشى خطوطها العريضة مع مرور الوقت، يصور أوبورو الحدود حيث يتقاطع الوجود والاختفاء والوضوح والغموض. ناعم ولكنه لا يُنسى بعمق، يتكشف هذا العطر بإشراق هادئ، مألوف إلى حد ما ولكنه…

سوف يطلق Dries Van Noten عطر Velvet Violet (الموضح أعلاه في المنتصف)، وهو عطر جديد. يكشف Velvet Violet عن وجه غير متوقع من البنفسج. مستوحى من المخمل، يجمع العطر بين نضارة البنفسج الخشبية مع الفروق الدقيقة الدافئة للسمسم. ويعكس زجاجها شبه الشفاف ذو اللون الأرجواني الداكن نغمات الزهرة ولمعان المخمل. في قاعدته، يعبر رسم بياني مستوحى من السمسم عن الحوار بين اللون والملمس والعطر. اقتران غير متوقع…