Joy

I have never been more financially broke than I am right now and full of joy at the same time. So many good things are happening with the NPA (Ruth was written up in her local newspaper, all things NPA), and with the recent accreditation -- it feels so good to finally pop our heads out of the water, so to speak. I guess our usual modus operandi of keeping below the radar is shot. The next project, building up the Tapputi-Belatekallim Society (of Natural Perfumers), will go as NPA has gone, slowly, with precision and meticulous curation, plowing through the roadblocks or taking the long way around, an organic progression, rather than some mindless capitalistic venture. As Ruth indicated in the article in Connacht Tribune, "It's not about ripping the arse out of it in terms of profit no matter what." It's about the people, not the money. That may seem like a naive approach to 'business,' but I've lived shoe-string budget my whole life, and I'm still here getting things done, helping others to get things done. 

Yesterday, in a burst of creative energy, I put together a little thing based on ammoniacum (Ferula ammoniacum) and other ferulas, including galbanum, Ammoniacum of Barbary (Ferula communis), and a heap of gummy black sacra from Oman. The whole of it is soaking in a dense tincture of Santalum album from Kupang, East Timor, to help sweeten up a bit. Once the resins melt some, I will open the jar, let the alcohol evaporate, and use the extract to make an incense that will be magical for some and meh for others. A little history here; a few years back, I received my first order of ammoniacum and, as per my usual evaluation method, tossed a bit on the electric heater, turned it down very low, and then went to bed. Right next to the heater. That night I had one of the most vivid and rock-my-world dreams ever. I was in the presence of what I called the King of the Djinn; silver-white hair, mahogany skin, and eyes so piercingly blue they shimmered like crystals. He didn't do anything. We just sat on the sand together, watching the horizon, with me glancing at him and seeing his waist-length hair whipping around in the wind. I felt like I was in the presence of a god-like creature. It was a crazy dream. One that I shared with someone who also indicated they had vivid dreams of flying and dunes when burning ammoniacum, and we concluded that the spirit of ammoniacum is this djinn. Writing about this fills me with the same awe I felt when I awoke from the dream. Do I know what this dream meant? Yeah, but I'm not sharing that. That's all mine. So this incense I'm making is a hope, really, that this experience can be enjoyed by others.