Last couple of weeks have been more than busy. And that means very little blogging for me, which I am very regretful about.

As far as writing goes, I've been busying myself with some writing (an ongoing project with Eden Botanicals), as well as a lengthy proposal writing as part of an application process to a prestigious event that I really want to participate in this coming winter.

And what has been taking the best part of my time are the shows and fairs. It seems that every weekend there is something happening and I have very little if any time at all to reflect and recollect my thoughts and share them with you here.

But what you're probably more interested to hear about is what I've been brewing in my little studio (pictured above, you finally get to see where I work and create all my sweet smelling stuff).

Well, I've been working on several custom perfumes, simultaneously. A higher than usual number of them this month, actually. Which is very exciting! Custom perfume creation is one of the most challenging, fun and rewarding parts of my work. And they are all turning quite interesting too. That's the part I like the most about custom scents - the ideas of scent combinations that I've never thought of before and probably never would have thought of either.

I've been also formulating scented body oils, which is something that I hope to add to the product line by the 2010 holiday season. The most successful of all is Song of Songs, which deserves a whole post on its own. I've been meddling with a few other scents but am not as happy with the results as I am with the Song of Songs body oil. In fact it is so fantastic that I've nearly used up my 50ml trial bottle (well, 15ml of it went to Laura to try as well!).

And I have a few other perfumes I'm working on for quite sometime (not that my collection needs any additions, mind you!). I usually tend to obsess with just one particular topic for a while, until I get it right. Right now though, I'm less focused than usual, and I have a few experiments going on simultaneously for a few months, which is rather confusing, to the point that unless I look at my notebook or my treasure box of "in progress" - I would really be having a hard time explaining to you what I'm up to!

A few of them have an osmanthus theme. It's a very tricky note and I am trying to explore ways of pushing it further to different directions, including the perfume I've been processing in my brain forever as a tribute to New Orleans.

Another note I'm trying to push to the max is clary sage. There is so much potential in clary sage that I only am now beginning to discover - amber and tea are the two interesting focal points that I'm exploring in this note.

Tobacco is another theme that has been going on for a while. I am working on a very specific tobacco scent that I really, really, really hope would turn out well. The concept is that of fruity narguilla (aka shisha or hooka) tobacco. Anything fruity is a challenge with all naturals, and those tobaccos are so artificially flavoured it's difficult to nail down something of that atmosphere. But more about this later. It really does deserve a post (or more) of its own, so you get to take a peek at what's happening behind the scenes with that one.

And aside from all these wonderful aromatic explorations, I've also am going back to school to study French! Which is so exciting. It seems that there are just not enough hours in the day to get everything I want done and learn everything that I want to learn.

It's time for bed now... However, I will be back more this coming week with more thoughtful insights into raw materials and my creative process turning them into perfumes.

Opposites do not only attract; they are also very similar. The musty, damp, rotting-wood scent of agarwood oil is precisely what makes it clean smelling. It's a strange olfactory paradox that I'm unable to explain.

I've created Bon Zai in 2001 as a custom scent to my ex-husband, who for no reason that I can explain, reminded me of Japanese garden. Bon Zai was meant to be minimalistic, woody and off-beat, like nothing else but at the same time with a sense of tranquility and purpose, harmony and balance like a bon sai tree in a zen garden with cool moss-covered rocks, flowing trails and trickling water; yet at the same time still evoke a very old tree at the top of a cliff.

Bon Zai was one of my very first perfumes and the skeleton for the formula was something that I found in Poucher's book called "Japanese Bouquet". I followed the formula similarly to how I follow recipes from a cookbook: I read it, imagine what it should be like, and try to make it ten times better.

The perfume you have recently experienced is different from the original 2001 creation because of a little transformation it went through just by adding two essences that characterize Japan's olfactory world: shiso and agarwood.

Shiso is a very strange herb that looks like small patchouli leaves (or large mint leaves), with serrated edges. It is one of the most finicky things to cook with, as it reacts very badly to heat: it looses all of its aroma. In Japanese cuisine, green shiso is eaten fresh, as a whole leaf to wrap sashimi, or thinly sliced to garnish cold soba noodles. There is also purple shiso, but that's another story...

What shiso did to the formula was transport the coniferous pine and juniper from the forest into the top of the mountain, where the air is clear and clean, and the forest is so healthy and pure that lichen grows on the wind-swept pines. It adds water and space to the wood, making it feel even more airy and light than it was ever before.

The agarwood adds a very subtle touch: the base otherwise has woody notes of sandalwood, vetiver and antique patchouli. The accent here is on the sandalwood though. Vetiver and patchouli in that particular context and ratio reads "woody" rather than "earth" or "dirt". The agarwood, although sharing some similarities with both sandalwood's precious woods and incense characters, and with the mustiness of vetiver and patchouli, goes all the way to the direction of pure smokeless incense. It's like a sheer veil of incense or the trail that a sandalwood fan leaves in its wake...

I woke up this morning noticing something unusual from my window: full-strength sunshine and trees covered in green plumage. Of course, that did not mean a warm day; on the contrary: it was a wind storm that blew away the clouds and let in the sun. Nevertheless, this was a perfect day for wearing Grin!

Grin was a tribute to the crisp spring in the Northern hemisphere: bulb flowers springing from the cold earth, heady and fragrant in contrast to the brisk air, cool rocks covered in rain-soaked moss and the frost-covered earth that if anything, emits a harsh, dusty and marshy smell.

But there is also another element altogether: light. Luminous light as it shines through the word-shaped bulb-plants’ leaves as they cut through the chilly air; and backlit buds of tree leaves shimmering against blue sky.

The creation of Grin was greatly inspired by Diorissimo, the legendary perfume by Edmund Roudnitska, which I also wore on my wedding day. This perfume is, in my opinion, one of the most perfect perfumes in the world, pure beauty in a bottle. It’s also one of the very few commercial perfumes that is said to contain boronia. It is particularly breathtaking in the parfum extrait, where the boronia is actually noticeable, as well as the jasmine and rose, giving the lily of the valley depth that can’t be quite complete in the lighter eau de Toilette. It was not possible for me to create lily of the valley accord with naturals alone, but I wanted to capture the emotion that I get when I smell this lily of the valley perfume. It always brings a smile to my face. And that’s what I tried to do with Grin.

Although not a soliflore by any means, the star of the show here is Boronia. This rare flower absolute from Tasmania brings a ray of light into the perfume. Crisp galbanum brings out its fresh-cut flower personality, but also an outdoorsy fresh-cut-grass smell, that makes me want to fill my lungs with air. Green pepper accentuate the peppery freesia-like character of boronia. Violet leaf brings out more of the ionone character of boronia. Jasmine and rose make it shine even brighter, bringing out an opulent richness. And than, what we need to talk about next, is the base.

“I've often seen a cat without a grin,' thought Alice; `but a grin without a cat! It's the most curious thing I ever saw in my life!'” (Lewis Carol, “Alice in Wonderland)

On its own, agarwood is rarely perceived as a cheerful note that would make one jump up with joy; but in this perfume from 2006, this is the role it takes. Wet stones, mossy forest floor and earth awakening to the sun was what the base needed to evoke in Grin. And agarwood, surprisingly, makes this happen, juggling the dense oakmoss on one hand, and the nearly effervescent and green Haitian vetiver, which extends galbanum and violet crispness till the end. It stands in the middle with its musty woody personality, smelling clean and balanced and mysterious. It’s an extension of the green leaves and the forest and the woods from where the fragrant bulb flowers emerge with their defiant optimism, provoking the sleepy world and welcoming the sun.