Materials of Greek Origin

Did'ya miss me?

No? 

Well, okay then.

It has been a weird last few weeks with all of the changes at the Academy, and then the world continuing its unglueing. 

Just

Breathe, J

I am continuing with the student evaluations, and again, I am astounded by how good some of them are. Some need little guidance, others need a lot because, once again, they've been duped into buying a synth under the guise of real. It's so disappointing all the way around. They don't like to be criticized (who does?), and I don't like to criticize, but something needs saying -- hey, don't buy that from these suppliers again, yeah? And every once in a while, you get a live one who claims years of experience in aromatherapy and knowing their goods inside and out, who turn their back and clan up with unscrupulous 'yes men' to get what they want -- the student wants to do what they want uncensored, their ability to accept helpful criticism completely gone, and the yes men want the student's money. It's a match made in hell. But it makes the world go-'round, that money, doesn't it? Pouring pretty words of assurance into innocent (?) ears so long as the cash flows in the right direction. This is borderline ranty, innit? I apologize. 

One of the students from the March '21 course sent me some authentic Greek materials, a lovely chunk of mastic resin, and a wad of cistus labdanum from Crete. Both are fabulous smelling. The mastic is almost lemony, like frankincense Serrata, balsamic, woody, really delicate, and beautiful. And the labdanum, oh! It's sweet, deeply balsamic, ambery, furry-animalic, and warm. It still amazes me how different materials smell when they are grown in different places around the world. Each has its own signature, a placemark in time, and a stamp on geography. It's wicked cool.