Aftelier, Ayala Moriel, Clarimonde, dream time perfumes, dreams, DSH, Immortal Mine, Oud Louban, Paradise Lost, perfume, perfume history, Perfume Pharmer, personal perfumes, Sangre, The House of Cherry Bomb
Clarimonde never sleeps, though she may rest deeply or enter into a trance. She uses her infinite winter night hours to visit the corners of history that remain standing and connect her to the past, like the snow-covered memorials of Prague and their many statues of the once important and powerful. We who walk by can no longer remember or even imagine them.
The once wealthy and frightening of Rome have all come to rest beneath a peaceful icy layer, purified by time and nature.
The exquisite and great of Versailles who have passed away and whose representations must accept the vagaries of weather and chance as we all do.
Clarimonde is compassionate and forgiving to the powerful as well as the weak, their vivid lives have all layered into the fecund earth we stand on in the present.
She passes through many eras, as a fragrance that captures the memory of each individual within their time.
The night magnifies fragrances, and they carry her away as she is both there and not there, both lying in bed beside Romauld, and slipping through time to visit everyone and everywhere she ever knew. The fragrances she collects expand her experience of time within the present.
She carries that division within her, those night perfumes, and the perfumes she applies at day time. Her special personal collection crosses both rivers of her own existence: the tiny blue flowers that cling to her near end in Paradise Lost. That sonorous cathedral within her mind personified by Oud Louban. Her melting physical body captured by Immortal Mine. Her trance-like state of stillness and presence in Dreaming Parallel. The stinging kiss and heat of skin within Sangre.