Friday, October 07, 2011

Waking up to Sunshine

I only have a moment to write this as all my moments are recently occupied with non-perfume, non-soap and non-what-I-LOVE-to-do activities, like work, for example, and paying debts, and trying to hold together what is left of my old life while forging ahead in my new one. I wake nearly every morning to the bright and cheerful face of my granddaughter, her chubby pink cheeks and two-toothed grin, with its accompanying slobber, at eye level next to my bed. Her lovely brownie-green eyes sparkle in anticipation of my waking. It's marvelous, really. Then I'm off -- to my morning job transcribing long-winded statements made by people with atrocious grammar and limited vocabularies. I know if they could hear themselves, or better yet, read what they say, they'd be much more careful how they spoke in the future. It's not that they're uneducated or undereducated, it's just that they don't realize how silly regular conversation can sound, or how little information can be provided, even in a long 3000-word answer when it's peppered with 'ums', 'uhs', and mumbling 'you knows' between every relevant word, and the switch backs -- oy vey! Start a sentence that's moving along nicely, then suddenly remember something prior to the event being discussed, and stop mid-sentence to begin telling that tale, and then finally never getting back to the original thought, just rambling and tripping over what might have already been said, what was already said, and throwing in little darlings of information that go un-elaborated. I have very nearly fallen asleep transcribing some of these things.

In the afternoon I either run off to a housecleaning job or come home and clean my own house, and do laundry and peck around in the garden, and stare at the mess in the studio wishing for the elves to come in the night and clean the garage so I have some place to store the items in the studio I don't use regularly. I am torn between wanting to sell off a majority of the unused items in my studio and keeping them for my future 'grand perfume museum'.

"If I were a rich man,
Ya ha deedle deedle, bubba bubba deedle deedle dum.
All day long I'd biddy biddy bum.
If I were a wealthy man.
I wouldn't have to work hard.
Ya ha deedle deedle, bubba bubba deedle deedle dum.
If I were a biddy biddy rich,
Yidle-diddle-didle-didle man."

Yadda da da daaaaaa!

I just have to share this -- I've already done so a bit on Facebook, but I will elaborate just a bit more here. One of my students, Marian del Vecchio, who lives and works in Sao Paulo, Brasil, is going to be a very prolific and possibly famous NBP some day. Her interpretation of the course assignments, from base accords to finished compositions, is nothing short of spectacular. As I've commented before (on Facebook) her Jasmine Soliflor parfum is just IT. Y'know? It's jasmine, but not straight jasmine. It's layered and complex and reminds me of the delicacy and femininity of perfumes like Anais Anais and L'Air du Temps. It has that same feel to it. And like a dumb-ass, I poured nearly half the vial onto a scent strip to test it and was left with only about a half milliliter to enjoy. I wear it sparingly, on my wrists mostly, so while I'm working at the keyboard, I can occasionally raise my wrist for a sniff'a. What's best about Marian's compositions is that they're all very different from one another -- she's not afraid to take chances. I won't go too much more into it because I haven't yet sent her her formal evaluation notes, so . . . Just watch for her, that's what I'm saying. She's got a rare talent.

As for my own perfume aspirations, well, understandably they've been put on hold. I'm tinkering at this point, as tinkering is all that there is time for. But whilst I tinker, I think. The next project is in the works and I have a lot of time to work it out. Writing down the bones of the perfume.

Ok. Got to run!


  1. Dear Justine, thank you again.

  2. Anonymous10:05 PM

    Yay Marian! It is so great to hear such glowing reviews for her work. Let us know when she decides to sell.



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