Tuesday, June 14, 2016

House of Voodoo

Okay.

I'm better now.

It kind of was a sinus/allergy thing, among other things, that had me down in the dumps. I think I'm allergic to California, because ever since we got back from our southern states' trip, the sinuses have flared. My nose loves the humidity, but the rest of me can't hang.

A lot has happened since I posted here last, which wasn't all that long ago -- a few days maybe? Shootings and more politics than can be fit into a moon-sized thimble. Horrifying, all of it. We'd better get our sh*t together, and the only way that's going to happen is to LISTEN to one another. Shut the pie hole and hear what the 'other' side is saying.

Done.

I was able to work a little on some projects while I was down for the count. I'm not really going to talk about them except to say that I'm leaning toward alchemy more than toward classical perfumery-type projects. It's an evolution. Going back to the roots of my work circa 1997, now with almost 20 years of experience under my belt, and a lot more finesse in the game. I had believed that my truncated trip to New Orleans was a dud, as in, I didn't learn anything. But I did. I learned something very important whilst rummaging through the goods at Marie Laveau's House of Voodoo on Bourbon Street -- I learned that simple is best. I know, I've said that before, but for some gawdawful reason, I always try to complicate the hell out of stuff in an effort to make the stuff better (there is a life lesson there). Again, simple is best. Some of the things I saw at the voodoo shop were eye popping, like the alters, and the wee museum in the back room, and the sign that basically read, 'laugh all you want, non-believers, but this sh*t is real to us, and you laugh at your own peril', or something like that. It made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, as if there were eyes staring from every corner and shelf. It was somewhat disconcerting, but also very exhilarating, y'know? Like, yeah, I knew that, but damn, now it's for sure . . . and everything. The lesson there, as best as I could discern, is that things don't have to be complicated to be effective. There was stuff in that store that a two-year-old could probably make with some help from a five-year-old, but those things embodied so much more than the wood and reeds and leaves and felt and feathers that it took to put them together. Magic and art don't need to be complicated to be real, or appreciated.

Speaking of art in it's simplest form, I was able to pick up a piece of local art in N'awlins' Jackson Square for a song --






It hangs in the upstairs hallway so it's the first thing I see when I'm coming down the stairs. I interpret it as meaning nobody cares what you want to do because they're too busy figuring out what the heck they want to do. Right? Not like nobody cares about you. Or maybe it just means that cats are a-holes.

A month or so ago I also picked up this little book --


It's a trip. There is sooooooo much information here, but it does, at times, seem a bit jumbled. Then again, lots and lots of great, useful information on perfumery.

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