I'm a bit of an outcast. By nature. By choice too, if I'm being honest. I've always felt a little bit 'out there', and until recently, out there entailed a lot of loneliness. Not so much anymore. I've learned there are a lot of us out there, and we're all getting along quite nicely together.
I'm embarking upon a new adventure -- liquid soap creation. I recently purchased a small and very expensive bottle of natural dish soap which was embellished with a titch of real orange blossom absolute. It seemed as though I was perfuming the pots and pans every time I washed them, and the hot water helped disperse the scent throughout the kitchen -- it was sublime. So I thought, why not make my own? Why not finally after nearly 20 years making soap try my hand at liquid soap? Potassium hydroxide, heat on the stove, borax, and hours of stirring? Why not? Some time later today an order of potassium hydroxide flakes will be arriving in the post, I've got the recipe out and ready to go. The space is sparkling clean and I have no further obligations outside of the house to take me away from my experiment.
I'm also pretty darned excited to play again.
I've also been slowly gathering the goods for a new batch of Egyptian style Kyphi -- with a twist, of course, because I wouldn't be me if I didn't try to do something a little wickedly different, yes?
I'm also in the throes of not writer's block but writer's hesitation. I've got about half of the new perfumery book written and I'm considering adding a bit more of me to the text -- y'know, less of an instructional tone, like the first book, and more of a conversational tone, well, like me. That would mean editing and rewriting what I've already done, thus the hesitation.
So I've been reading a lot more. Lots of different books on different subjects. Things that make a person have wild and wooly dreams. Books that make me realize that 99.99% of everything going on in the world is based on fear. Fear of failure, fear of success, fear of the future, fear of the past, fear of losing oneself, fear of not finding oneself, fear of hunger, fear of death, fear of poverty, fear of not finding the next fix, fear of abandonment, fear of looking foolish, fear of coming in last, fear of someone else getting ahead. Just plain old useless fear. I'm a hapless victim of useless fear. But fear is like a heavy jacket worn in the blazing sun -- just take it off. Bask in the unknown, the unanticipated. That's when things start to get interesting. Think of the things you could say, the things you could do if you didn't fear what might happen.
In the months preceding my father's death from terminal cancer, I asked him if he was afraid of death and he said, with his signature whiskey-rough laugh, "No! I'm only afraid of how much I will miss you until you find me again."