The journey ends where it begins

Every person sometimes feels like Odysseus, travelling and exploring the world until their own journey reminds them of the Place where it all begins. It is this Starting point that gives us the journey; and as it unfolds, we discover ourselves, discovering the secrets of life. One of these secrets is that life doesn’t have to be serious. Another one is that life can and should be simple, easy and fragrant. And – fortunately – perhaps the journey reveals to us that all the secrets we are looking for are right here, in our hands.

My journey in the world of fragrances starts with a memory – where I keep returning always. It is the memory of my first acquaintance with a pure essential oil many years ago. It was the geranium, and since then I haven’t stopped feeling this uplifting connection to its magnificent energy that keeps me want to smell it and wear it daily. This is an experience that stays intact through time˙ this sweet feeling of being in communion with an archetype, unspoiled scent, that it’s not my nose that smells it, but my soul entirely! It’s a truth that I’ve lived by and enjoyed for years now: this miracle that happens every time I smell a pure, unspoiled scent; the fragrance that is emitted and stays unaltered like a memory throughout time – not just in this life but through the course of all our incarnations as beings. For me, this has always been awe-inspiring! Such a smell which can be so strong that can change our lives and speed up our evolution; that can change the way we move and vibrate, the way we act, sense and experience everything in life; that can remind us who we are, enabling us to return to our unaltered, ever-lasting nature.

This remembrance has been my strongest motivation in turning what I love to a profession. The aim of this blog is this blossoming sharing of my journey in the world of osmology and botanical perfuming with you. 

May you enjoy it… with as many sensual perfumes as you can!

 

Hope your road is a long one.

May there be many summer mornings when,

with what pleasure, what joy, 

you enter harbors you’re seeing for the first time;

may you stop at Phoenician trading stations to buy fine things,

mother of pear and coral, amber and ebony,

sensual perfume of every kind – 

as many sensual perfumes as you can;

from Ithaca, by Constantine Cavafy