Hippy-Dippy Incense

Every morning this week, I have anointed the 7-year-old grand with a bit of that Garut, some rose de mai absolute, and a touch of key lime petitgrain eo, and every morning this week, she's bounced out of the house with an unbreakable happy attitude. Plus, she smells amazing! Last night as she and I were dragging the trash bins to the curb, she said, "There are some pretty flowers by the front door, Grammy, I want you to make me some ferpume with them. Can you?" After I collected myself from the hysterics of hearing her ask for 'ferpume', I made a note of what flowers she was talking about. I have a row of jasmine sambac along the front porch, and they're in their second yearly bloom, filling the porch area with intense green tea and jasmine scent. This child has good taste in ferpume.

I took some photos of the kyphi-like incenses that I still have in stock to add to the Walking the Kyphi Path course at NPA, a kind of encouragement for others to photograph and share their work with their peers who hadn't yet taken the Kyphi plunge, and while working on that post, I went on a little mental pilgrimage to the beginnings of my incense journey. It was back in the Yahoo Groups days, mere moments after the last dodo bird died, and I was in every single soap-making group I could find that wasn't a hotbed of one-upmanship and political horse sh*t. Okay, I was in two groups. Blue Lotus Moon, and another one that I cannot remember the name of. Blue Lotus Moon was a dream. It had all of those wild and wicked women in it who were pouring rose otto, jasmine, sandalwood, and every other exotic and expensive oil into soap like it was no big deal. The other group was more like everybody else who made soap back then, and even now, if I'm being honest, who were working out soap bases and colors and using fragrance oils, lavender and citrus, and spice oils by dribbles. This was the group that began talking about making incense. I had a copy of Scott Cunningham's Incense, Oils, and Brews and worked out a few formulations using some of the recipes in the book as templates. 

My first completely handmade, commercially available incense was made using powdered pine wood chips, like the kind used for rabbit bedding, and other whole botanicals and essential oils. I had entire pine sawdust-based Zodiac sign and intention incense packaged in Ball jars that I sold by the scoop at craft shows. There was only one or two of those first incenses I made that were really, really good, and wish I still had a bit of those left. One was Leo incense, and the other was Egyptian incense. That non-descript soap group, run by a woman whose moniker was "Rose Knows" called for a soap exchange where those interested in sharing their work could sign up and send boxes of their soaps and other crafty crap to others on the list. I sent soap and incense, and apparently, a big note asking for the recipients' derision. Not everybody joined in on the 'her incense is hippy-dippy wood chips' bandwagon. I have two friends who I still have contact with from that group, so it wasn't all bad. But Rose Knows was determined to put out my light. Everyone else who sent incense in the exchange sent sticks dipped in fragrance oil, and nobody said diddly-squat about what I sent until know-it-all Rose started on her bs, then it was as if a floodgate opened and anybody with an opinion had something to say about the scented powdered sawdust I sent. 

It was ugly, and I was ashamed of my work. I guess what I'm trying to say is, don't listen to nasty people who can't give constructive criticism, who tear you down to your roots, or who try to crush your dreams. Make them pay by improving your craft, ultimately reaching far beyond where they could ever go. Stoke the fire and make that light burn bright.