Friday, January 29, 2016

Endless Possibilities

While I was away, I set the bergamot enfleurage to the side sans bergamot peel because, well, it's just stupid to leave an enfleurage enfleuraging for days on end -- causes molding and other nasty things to happen. Anyway, I expected some of the scent to fade, as citrus does, but was pleasantly surprised to find that not much fading occurred. Some of the bright citrusy bits were more toned down than before I left, but that gorgeous floral note that bergamot possesses was still there, very present. A few more charges and I think I'll bottle her up and put her away for future use. I might put a couple of wee jars up for sale too.

Ideas are flowing like mad right now -- I can't even get a decent night's sleep, my brain is going on and on with the endless possibilities. I'm back to plan A, the one where I rent the condemned space for a studio, but I still need to row up the ducks. Contacting the appropriate people to find out who owns that building space and what it will take to get it up to code again are on the agenda today. I dream about that specific space so often that I have to pursue it to the end. I'm sure you're sick of hearing about it by now. Hopefully one day I'll just announce that I have the space and leave you alone about it. Ha!

I've actually got a couple of soap blends moving along -- a lovely violet and patchouli blend, and then a patchouli and linden blossom blend using this absolutely gorgeous and true to the flower linden blossom CO2 from Enfleurage. It's just stunning. I know, that's a lot of patchouli soap, but in this case, the patchouli serves as a wonderful platform for both of these scents -- and I like patchouli. Lots of people do, despite its poor reputation. What YOU need to realize, patchouli hater you, is that all patchouli is not created equal. For example, some patchouli can smell soft and powdery and floral, while another example can smell fresh and herbaceous and green. Some smells woody and smoky and dry, while others smells leafy and sweet and honey-like. It's like that tomato crop you grow every year, some years, depending on what you do to the soil, how much rain there is or isn't, how often you fuss or don't, your tomatoes grow large but tasteless, or they grow perfectly, or they grow wee and tasty, or you get a bumper crop and have to give baskets of them away to your neighbor, Fred, or you get three tomatoes the whole season. It's never the same. The same thing happens to patchouli, and the oil reflects those variables. So saying you don't like patchouli is like saying you don't like pizza when your only pizza experience has been the French loaf with ketchup and Velveeta your Grandma Flossy made for you as a kid.

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