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Narkiss, First Round



The Narkiss creation journey started as early as 2007, with a name, and a sketch based on the natural raw materials that W.A. Poucher lists in his 2nd volume of "Perfumes, Cosmetics and Soaps". These were composed much later (in 2011) into 2 mods that I refer to as "First Round" - because they both represent the same concept, and are in fact a continuation of each other. In fact, I didn't even bother making them in separate bottles*.

This round was all about exploring narcissus absolute, which I had in only extremely limited quantity, and just have fun with it. It was created in what I like to call "intuitive approach": just following my nose, and working with the essences that seems most fitting for make this precious extract truly shine. Perhaps it's not purely intuitive, because I did have a list of per-selected notes to choose from.  But still, many of them were screened out purely based on what my nose and my heart were telling me in the process.

To start with, I didn't really have a concept in mind, besides that of wanting to work with narcissus absolute, and calling the perfume "Narkiss". I wanted to bring out the richness of this essence, and worked with notes that were some of the most elusive and unique on my palette: costus root, Africa stone, galbanum absolute, absolute from oak wood barrels, and last but not least - Jonquille (which extends the narcissus, being very closely related both botanically and in odour profile). 

While the perfume ended up quite minimalist in the number of raw materials (12), the mood of this perfume is anything but minimal. It has a richness to it that really made me think of a candle-lit flower. A little waxy and golden, honeyed and glowing like beeswax candle; but also very richly floral and seductive, like a dim-lit bouquet in a vase. Romantic, but also mysteriously melancholy.

In my fear of destroying what I've created, I didn't add any top notes to my composition. And I also didn't touch it and didn't get back to it till several years later.

* This is something I often do - when I know that the mod is just a beginning of something else. This is also a good way to save space in my overstuffed archives of experimental scents, and also saves on the time of re-blending the first portion, only to be adding more things to it that I already know are lacking in the first formula. It may not be scientific, but it works for me.


Narcissus Absolute

Narkiss Blue BG by Dror Miler
Narkiss Blue BG, a photo by Dror Miler on Flickr. 
There is no denying it. The relationship between narcissus absolute and the living flower is nil. Void. Nada.

If it wasn't for the name, there would be nothing in it to suggest the intoxicating perfume that linger in the air in mid-winter in the Mediterranean region. When a Narcissus tazetta* is around and in bloom, you can't miss it. The humble little bulb plant often hides between thorny bushes but the scent cannot conceal itself. Little pillars carrying bright shining stars that seem to have a face and a character of their own. The flowers radiate a most audacious, heady, refreshing, intoxicating and inviting aroma.

On sunny winter weekend, after a night of showers, we would jump in the puddles and the scent of narcissus flowers will stop us on their tracks. We'd look around for the source of this lovely scent (and after a year or two in the village, noticed they will usually show up in the same place - which is only logical for an endangered bulb plant). But once coming closer - there is a certain point when you're too close, and the scent is almost repulsive, reminiscent of ripe corpses and feces abandoned in some ancient battlefield.

The absolute of narcissus, while certainly haunting, as a different story. It has a certain voluptuous darkness about it, yet is also honeyed, greenish and soft. Narcissus being related to tuberose, it is no surprise to find relationship there - tuberose-like character but not nearly as dominant. Not quite powerful as to bring to mind any of the dark tales of doom associated with this flower in Greek mythology. Like its tuberose cousin, it is heady yet waxy and smooth, green and also slightly buttery and powdery. There is also an underlying sweetness reminiscent of dry hay-laden meadows and wet soils it brings to mind the surroundings of a Mediterranean winter landscape rather than the aroma of the flower itself. 

Coming back to the lab this morning for round 3 of my narcissus perfume, I'm now compelled to tell the story of the winter meadow, rather than a standalone flower perfume or a soliflore. I wanted version .03 (created on 03.03.2014) to feel like that haunted moment when you spot a rainbow in the cloud. The realization that some mushroom have grown overnight after the rain, within arm reach of where the narcissus flowers are hiding.

* The cultivated plant Narcissus Poeticus is also used for extraction. So the variations in scent also are due to the variations between these particular species, not only the extraction method or the locale.
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