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Cedrechor

Komorebi

Naming perfumes is no easy feat. And in the case of KOMOREBI I invited you to the brainstorm with me not only for finding an evocative name for my creation, but also attempt to coin a word that will describe the olfactory phenomenon that inspired the perfume.

I've contacted talented fragrance writer and fellow perfume lover Elena Vosnaki of Perfume Shrine to collaborate with me on coining a new word for describing the phenomenon that Komorebi was inspired by. Elena's knowledge of the Greek language was paramount to this process, and I've learned much from the process - similarities to other languages, myths and lore that encompass the entire globe, well beyond the Greek archipelago.

If petrichor is the scent of earth after rain, then this perfume accurately captured the wonderful cedrechor scent - "blood of the cedar" - the smell of the forest after the sun. Cedrechor can be experienced in late summer and early autumn in the Pacific Northwest rainforests: It emanates from the sun-dappled fragrant forest floor on those warm days when the sun brings out the sweet smells of redcedar, moss & Douglas fir…

The idea behind this ambitious act of smell-naming was to give fellow perfume lovers and writers another word for the scent that is as recognizable as petrichor - and I can only hope it will gain traction and be used well beyond the ad copy for my perfume. There are so few words unique to the realm of scent.

Komorebi is the first in a series of four perfumes dedicated to special places in the Pacific Northwest. Place of inspiration: Cathedral trail in Xwayxway (Stanley Park), which is pictured above.

Notes: Redcedar, Fir, Oakmoss, Black Cottonwood

Fragrance Families: Woody, Ambery, Chypre

Arbor Vitae: Trees of Life + Contest

Cathedral Grove

The first days of school are saturated with mundane yet memorable scent of lumbar by-products, namely pencil shavings and sharp new textbooks bound with resinous glue. Cedar's significance goes far beyond paper and pencil shavings. While visiting the Carving on the Edge festival in Tofino - the so-called cedar (Thuja plicata - which is really a kind of a cypress, not from the Cedrus species that you'll find around the mountains of the Mediterranean and the Himalaya) that grows here in such abundance holds special significance to the First Nations of the West Coast. So much so, that some called themselves "Redcedar People".

Cedar Woman

Redcedars are ginormous (65-70m high and a diameter of 3-4m are not uncommon), and live a long, rich life of hundreds and even a thousand years! They tower over the rest of the forest, and provide a home for insects, birds, squirrels and other creatures. In the lush rainforest, you'll observe other foliage gracing their branches like hanging gardens. And when a strong wind finally tips them over, they become a nursing log for new life forms and eventually - other gigantic redcedars. 

Red Cedar, 400yrs old

The tree itself in Coast Salish language was called "Tree of Life". It wasn't until visiting Tofino this past week that I really understood why - after all, it bears no fruit or edible parts (this must be my Mediterranean brain at work). For one thing, the tree plays a huge role in the ecosystem: it strives off the nitrogen-rich fish diet from the salmon that jumps upstream, and also dyes them red with its tannins, and also has the ability to filter out toxins. 

From a utilitarian human perspective, it is particularly valuable because of its soft heartwood, which makes it easy to carve. Additionally, it has a high content of essential oils that not only make it smell amazing, but also act as preservatives and insect repellent, making the wood last for hundred years if not more! Their durability and rot-resistance are why redcedar is the wood of choice for outer constructions such as homes, roofs, shingles, etc. 

Old Rededar

First Nations built and crafted almost anything imaginable from this phenomenal tree, taking full advantage of its lightweight and durable qualities: they would weave water-proof hats and clothing from strips of the bark, as well as ropes and baskets from the younger branches; and long houses and homes from planks that they've harvested from the living trees; and entire old-growth trees (either wind-stricken or actively felled in a special ceremony) were used for totem poles or to build dug-out canoes - including ones large enough to hunt whales. And of course - smaller artifacts such as masks, bentwood boxes, and other tools. Last but not least: the wood would keep you warm in the stormy and damp Pacific Northwest weather (although logs of cedar are notorious for sending out sparks - so watch your fire closely); and the leaves are bundled with sage to make incense wands that are burnt to clear off negativity from the space before the start of a ritual. 

Cedars of Lebanon

In perfumery, we use all kinds of cedar - true and false. The Cedar of Lebanon (which King Solomon used to build the first temple in Jerusalem) are too sparse to use in perfumery, but are impressive, beautifully shaped trees that grace Mount Meron where they grow wild, and some other hills of Northern Israel, where they've been planted near Saafed. 

Cedars & Fog

Cedars from the Atlas mountains in Morocco and the Himalayas smell very similar - with a warm, honeyed and slightly animals aroma. The remind me of polished-wood because they're so smooth and precious smelling. The most famous perfume you can smell Atlas cedar wood is Feminite du Bois by Shiseido (now available directly from the fragrance's creative director leading niche brand, Serge Lutens). Among my creations, it is particularly noticeable in Epice Sauvage and Tamya.

Himalayan cedar, which is similar but a little more cool and clean-smelling is what you'll smell at the base of Indigo (which, incidentally, was listed among Basenotes' 500 Greatest Modern Perfumes). You an also experience it at the base of Jasmine Pho and Fetish (which also has another coniferous favourite: Fir absolute). 

Windswept

Japan has its own unique conifers, and its own version of cedar - called Hiba (AKA Japanese cedar, false arborvitae or Hiba arborvitae). Bon Zai perfume portrays a miniature forest of windswept cedar and pine, in the best Japanese tradition. Minimalist yet haunting, the familiar notes of Virginia cedarwood, juniper and Scotch pine are joined by more exotic Japanese oils of mandarin, oud and shiso leaf. In a new version I've been working on this afternoon, indigenous Japanese woods will enhance the authenticity of this fragrance - namely Hiba (Thuja dolabrata) and Hinoki, AKA Japanese cypress (Chamaecyparis obtusa).

Eau de Cedre
The so-called Virginia and Texas Cedarwoods are really juniper trees (Juniperus virginiana, AKA Easter Redcedar). Their aroma is similar, but much milder than the Western redcedar. The Virginia kind has a particularly soft and rich, warm, smooth dry down that makes it second only to sandalwood. I've used it as a key note in Eau de Cedre, an eau-de-cologne type fragrance with a woody anchor and distinctive dry, spicy tones. But you'll find it in many others of my creations, such as Rainforest, in which the Virginia cedar is subtle, and makes a subtle backdrop for coniferous tree and dewy foliage - recreating the experience of a walk in the woods. Espionage, on the other hand, is cedarwood chests, cedar-flavoured cigarettes, but most of all: logs of campfire, out in the woods, or even better - on a stormy beach to warm you up after surfing the chilly Pacific. 

400 Years Old?

Essential oils from the Western redcedar have only joined the perfumer's palette some 3-4 years ago, and I've used it in Blackbeard Oil, and more recently - in a new perfume that captures the magical scent of the Pacific rainforest floor on a warm, sunny autumn day: a most peculiar scent that anyone who loves the forest and lives around here is fond of and most familiar with. It smells a bit like how you'd think Chypre should smell; but is also with resinous-sweet ambery undertone to it. I'm pleased to say that I've been able to capture it perfectly; but I do need your help naming it. Non of the names I've thought about seem right: it's not "Pacific Amber" and it's not "Emerald Amber". The name "Arbor Vitae" sounds too arcane and serious (and I'm worried no one would understand it at all). And then names of places where you can experience it - such as Stanley Park (where I first experienced it) or Gold Creek (which alludes to its warm, golden aroma) - just don't sound authentic enough. Neither truly brings across the wild nature of this fragrance, and its strong connection to core of Pacific Northwest natural life, where Hishuk Ish Tsawalk was the law of the land and . Besides - you can smell it on a sunny day almost anywhere where redcedar, Douglas fir and Western hemlock live, and that covers a rather vast chunk of land... So let there be a naming contest, and the winner who emails me (or leaves a comment on this post) with the best name suggestion by September 30th will receive a 15mL bottle of this yet-to-be-named forest elixir! 

Redcedar links for further reading:

Life Is A Struggle

Life Is A Struggle by Ayala Moriel
Life Is A Struggle, a photo by Ayala Moriel on Flickr.
"When we are stricken and cannot bear our lives any longer, then a tree has something to say to us: Be still! Be still! Look at me! Life is not easy, life is not difficult. Those are childish thoughts. . . . Home is neither here nor there. Home is within you, or home is nowhere at all".
- Herman Hesse, Bäume: Betrachtungen und Gedichte [Trees: Reflections and Poems]


If your sense of belonging does not come easy, trailing alongside the trees gives a great lesson and a sense of proportion. A single tree in the rainforests provides oxygen supplies for a year for ten people - in only one season of its existence (Arbor Day Foundation).

"On average, one tree produces nearly 260 pounds of oxygen each year. Two mature trees can provide enough oxygen for a family of four" (Environment Canada). 

As I walk by these ancient creatures of wisdom who've breathed the planet's toxins, listened to the every bird's song, and exhaled serenity and purified air for hundreds if not thousands of years --
I'm awed not only by their stature, but also by what they have silently witnessed, and above all - to their dedication to light and life.

Tutored as the "green lungs" of our blue planet,  we owe 28% of the oxygen we breathe to the rainforests and the trees. It is no wonder that trees have been sacred not only to the native Indians but even in more deserted climates such as the Middle East. There are trees who are worshipped, to this day, with colorful ribbons tied to their branches by pilgrims of religions long gone. It seems increasingly logical to make all trees sacred. Planting trees should become a common practice from young age...

There are 3 main trees in our beautiful Pacific Northwest forests: Douglas Fir (Pseudotsuga), Pacific Red Cedar (Thuja plicata) and Western Hemlock (Tsuga) and Sitka Spruce (Picea sitchensis). I'm still learning how to differentiate between them: they are all so big and often times their needles are so far out of reach that there is no way of examining their needles and comparing their shapes. And then the trees are young it's the opposite problem: you can see the needles, but the trunks are still quite similar in appearance (at least to my untrained eye). These amazing trees can live several hundreds and even well over 1,000 years!

So, as I struggle to find courage, motivation or inspiration between my 4 walls - I step out to my "back yard", breathe deeply - and try to listen to the trees.


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