Strangely beautiful.

This morning I wore Etro’s Palais Jamais. After
around 10 minutes, this eau de toilette rises from my skin like a green mist,
the sepal from which a small jasmine flower unfurls. This evening finds me in
the fruit and coffee caramel of Torrente’s L’Or de Torrente, waiting for my love
to step through the door.

I am
enamored with contrasts, hearts of darkness, light breaking in shadow, pepper
and honey, pinpricks of sadness in my delight. It is the unexpected, the rare,
that moves me.

The smell of burning
wood, beer, old books, cold forests in blue mountain

The smell of flannel, paper, ink,
Coke, rum, soap, metal, damp wall,

The smell of the road and
pine and sunrise.

These are all
memories, accords of pain and joy. Maybe in time, as with fragrance, they will
rise from my skin until all I am left with is the faintest scent, as easy on my
heart as my own breath.