What I saw:

Eros upon waking. I have become the guardian of this sweet baby angel who’s new perch is above my bed…I’ve been waking up every morning feeling blessed by the gods of love.

What I heard:

The new ride, a 2005 Mercedes SL500, currently only has the option of CD or radio so I’ve been delighting in the nostalgia of the compact disc.

This track , from Dead Can Dance - Aion, has been the soundtrack of my top-down sunset cruising…nothing but cinematic levels of high drama for me.

I’ve also had Harold Budd - The Room on heavy rotation.

What I smelled:

Drive-by Datura.

What I tasted:

An incredible pappardelle lamb bolognese with smoked olives & pecorino at Savio Volpe in Vancouver.

What I touched:

Soft kitten bellies. My enchanted friend Luna surprised everyone at her birthday brunch with a litter of foster kittens to snuggle and it took all of my scant reserves of self control not to adopt them all.

What I wore:

Its been a summer of Doên dresses…light, breezy and easy to pack multiple in a carry-on.

What I desired:

More time with loved ones. More time in general.

What I read:

What I thought:

I want to host a party game with friends where we take turns drafting absurdist 5 line bios for one another inspired by this quote I stumbled across:

Cielo

Absolutely gorgeous film, highly recommend.

What I heard:

Lush Crayon | Warm Nights

When I was a little girl this is the kind of music I imagined I’d be listening to as an adult while driving my convertible through an urban nightscape.

What I smelled:

Choju Giga “Sumo” Incense

“…a gentle, aqua fragrance of pear and sandalwood”.

What I tasted:

Fresh branzino crudo with red onion and giant caper berries in olive oil, lemon, & champagne vinegar.

What I touched:

My ephemera archives

I’m in the process of moving house which has necessitated the assessment and reorganization of all the layers of accumulated life strata. I’ve unearthed piles and piles of things to purge but somehow old fortunes from the Musee Mechanique and every birthday card I’ve ever received have made it into the small keep pile.

What I wore:

Doên Davina dress

What I desired:

KNWLS serpent sock boots

In this sticky summer heat I’m fantasizing about stomping around in these on a cool fall night.

What I read:

Perfect reminders from my Uusi Supra Deck

What I thought:

About the deep allegorical potency of this helmet.

Simultaneous protection and surrender…

What I saw:

Angela Ellsworth Volume II: CONTENT(s)

We were honored to open this stunning show of Angela’s burnished works at Saint Profanus Studios on Saturday.

“The content(s) at the center of this exhibition began with an incidental gesture of dismantling: in the reverberation of physically moving her studio Ellsworth began rubbing the interiors of discarded packing boxes with graphite. Repeated obsessively, this burnishing compressed cardboard fiber into a velvety, reflective skin-like surface. What was once an ordinary vessel of transit and storage made castaway by the revelation of its content, becomes luminous.”

What I heard:

Contemplation (1983) Adrian Marcator

A great sonic backdrop for moving through swirling thoughts during Mercury RX.

What I smelled:

Cuban cigars.

Initiated a new ritual with my fabulous friend Barbara, cigars + mezcal + sunset is a potent spell for reordering time.

What I tasted:

Elisir di Rose

…and of course, because Barbara is a consummate host and a seasoned aesthete, the final sip was one of my absolute favorite (and hard to find) liqueurs. The last time my lips touched this elixir was in Firenze, and now I’m aching to return to the Santa Maria Novella flagship.

What I touched:

A donkey named either Peanut or Jojo.

What I wore:

LBD + my new favorite stiletto mules (and almost more hair than clothes).

What I desired:

Purple ruffles.

I’m getting tired of my dual tone black and white outfit options, I want my fall wardrobe to be shaded with a spectrum that flows from mauve and purple into lilac, violet, periwinkle and deep blue.

What I read:

Sarah Luna Van Arsdale’s symbolic lexicon.

Luna had a show of her mystical paintings in a cool garden courtyard and made this exquisite zine, titled: Celestial Dew, to accompany the pieces.

What I thought:

I tried to make a list in my mind of all the holy and sacred places I’ve touched.

A vintage Jontue perfume ad.

I just discovered an old perfume bottle I have that belonged to my grandmother has a little sticker on the bottom that says “Jontue” so I looked up the scent and found some romantic 70s ads that blur the line between corny and dreamy: a frolic through flowers in silk chiffon, a rendezvous with a lover on horseback, etc…now I want to make Sapphic versions for Calyx perfumes.

What I heard:

“The beginning of everything is chaotic.”

⁃ Mervat Nasser (speaking on a philosophy of hope and drawing an analogy to a lotus flower growing in muddy darkness.)

What I smelled:

1996

I’ve had this scent for 5+ years, I wore it for a bit then put it aside and kind of forgot about it. I’m down to a few spritzes but returned to it after completely running through two bottles of Bastille Bataille, which has become a beloved daily scent for me. This shift took me to a completely different energetic space, where Bataille has a refined coolness that balances the warm spice notes, 1996 is all body heat (fitting for the current July weather)…in this now it evokes a hot damp sexiness…it reminds me of the sweat that accumulates under ones breasts on a 90 degree day.

What I tasted:

A late night quesadilla.

I’m typically the friend/sister/lover/mother who makes the meal. The combination of my genuine love of cooking, an intractable control fetish and an inborn orientation to caregiving usually results in me being the one who ends up in the kitchen attempting to materialize an impromptu meal. Because of this, there’s something deeply special about having someone else tenderly flip a greasy tortilla filled with cheese, post tequila infused holiday revelry…just for me.

What I touched:

Different versions of self.

What I wore:

Inappropriate footwear for the terrain…as per usual.

Made a stop at a roadside cemetery and walked around admiring the artificial flower arrangements and solar powered lights while my heels sunk 2 inches into the hallowed ground. Obviously Death Becomes Her was my favorite film as a child.

What I desired:

An infusion of heavenly aesthetics.

I desperately need this Gianfranco Ferre AW03 top & these angel/devil ear buds.

What I read:

What I thought:

Reflections and refractions.

Alignment by Janette Pasin Sloan.

What I heard:

Klaus Wiese Crane

What I smelled:

Homegrown “Black” Lily.

The bulb I purchased was advertised as being black but what emerged from the earth ended up being this sensual bloody red. The scent was not at all similar to the Casablanca lilies I am used to picking up at the market. These were reminiscent of cherry blossom, unripe apricot and baby skin.

What I tasted:

Keeping Together beers.

Best beers and best summer ambience in Santa Fe…not to mention my favorite burger in town is from the Brasas truck thats always parked out front.

What I touched:

Yards and yards of silk and linen while I constructed a new capsule collection of garments for Vanna.

What I wore:

Dolce & Gabanna lace up sandals.

What I desired:

Valentin Loellmanns Steps

“What is a staircase? It is a tool, a path, a form, a functional, an aesthetic and even a symbolic piece. For me staircases are the most interesting way of combining two points in space. I created these staircases so that they could move from space to space, unattached to a wall structure.”

What I read:

What I thought:

Deeply about living architectures of exchange and mutually beneficial outcomes in rhizomatic response to listening to Merlin Sheldrake on the Emergence Magazine podcast.

Two Mary’s everyday.

What I heard:

“Your myth is real, but it’s just for you…”

A snippet of resonant dialog from a podcast referencing the phenomena of cult/guru dynamics and the cross axis of personal mythos and group delusion.

What I smelled:

Rose & neroli water face mist.

What I tasted:

Soon Hari Yogurt flavored drink.

This is not included in my weekly roundup because it was exceptionally good, actually it was pretty weird…like Zima and a Yoplait whips mashed together. I am referencing it simply because the novelty of discovery and small absurd joy of trying it delighted me. The laughter brought on by the first sip was a pleasure that surpassed the flavor.

What I touched:

Clay Pillar by Interactive Items at Currents New Media Festival

What I wore:

Sequins and silk.

What I desired:

Deep rest.

What I read:

“I want to multiply myself to take in even the desert regions that give the idea of eternal immobility. In eternity time does not exist. Night and day are opposites because they are both time and time cannot be divided. From now on time will always be the current moment. Today is today.”

- Clarice Lispector : A Breath of Life

What I thought:

For a brief moment that these fire surviving pines looked like palms.

A white washed Gothic Altar.

What I heard:

Kayden Kelly

This young pianist had the entire room transfixed at the opening soirée for the Santa Fe Magazine Festival. (Comedic intro courtesy of a ubiquitous ringtone and Tania Katan)

What I smelled:

Lavàre…the scent in its final form washed through the halls of 102 W San Francisco imparting a simultaneity of freshness and calm. The notes include: orris, basil, sandalwood, a bathwater & marseille soap accord and 3 types of lavender (including a few drops of a locally grown variety from Los Poblanos farm gifted to me by the distiller).

What I tasted:

An Osmanthus Pu-erh tea aptly named “Vaulted Canopy”.

Had the most connective morning forest bathing experience with 3 beautiful women (led by Barbara Deppman, a magnetically fascinating human and my newest friend crush), we smelled dripping pinõn sap as if we were inhaling our lovers necks…meditated on rocks embedded with the fossilized remnants of ancient sea life and then shared tea out of little wooden cups while discussing how the material effected the taste. Every day I fall more and more in love with New Mexico and all the incredible women who’ve ended up here.

What I touched:

Early morning beatitude at Santa Cruz lake.

What I wore:

A wild snake as a bracelet.

This is what happens when I go on a night walk after a few gin & tonics…I become a goth snow white and can’t resist picking up and cuddling all the crawling and slithering creatures of the darkness.

What I desired:

Claude Lalanne Ginkgo chairs.

What I read:

Rapunzel’s Daughters.

(Thank you kb & Angela.)

What I thought:

About all the ways I can forget myself, inspired by this Žižek quote:

“The obsessive desire to know yourself is itself a pathology. You’re not healed when you wholly understand yourself but when you don’t matter to yourself anymore. You’re healed once you internalize you must fight for something bigger than yourself: you fight for your family, you fight for love, you fight for art, you fight for meaning. Maybe you fight for political change or perhaps you’re a fanatical writer or scientist. The real goal of psychoanalysis is paradoxical; its precisely to liberate yourself from yourself - to bring you to the point where you can finally forget about yourself and work for a greater cause.”

A series of un-attributed screenshots.

The practice of scrolling back through old screenshots has become a sort of divinatory practice for me lately.

What I heard:

“Women die with terrible Venus/(venous) congestion.”

An earnest statement not intended as a euphemism but taken as such.

What I smelled:

Mugwort & Wormwood Moxa

In an attempt to ward off a recurrent desire to pick up a smoking habit I’ve become addicted to heavy incense and self-administered moxa for menstrual cramps.

What I tasted:

Chowards violet mints.

I found a pack at the bottom of a purse I hadn’t used in some time and remembered how much I missed them. The world needs more flower forward breath fresheners.

What I touched:

The cool flowing water of the Rio Embudo.

What I wore:

Ankle strap tabi pumps and a red scarf.

What I desired:

A room full of blue.

What I read:

“I then felt like a tiger with a deadly arrow buried in its flesh and who was slowly circling the fearful people to find out who would have the courage to come up and free it from its pain. And then there is the person who knows that a wounded tiger is only as dangerous as a child. And coming up to the beast, unafraid to touch it, pulls out the embedded arrow.”

-Clarice Lispector, Agua Viva

What I thought:

In multiple directions at once while holding to a singular vision.

Plants in ecstasy from monsoon rains.

What I heard:

Sinn Sisamouth, because the season is here.

What I smelled:

Multiple variations of an interpretation of a color-field.

I’m working on formulations for an installation Saint Profanus is doing for Currents New Media Festival in two weeks.

What I tasted:

My favorite natural red that was finally restocked at my local wine shop after 6 months.

What I touched:

Scissors to paper, rubber cement to paper, paper to paper. Had a lovely dip back into my much missed collage practice.

What I wore:

La Perla lace-cut leather & blue suede peep toe mules.

What I desired:

Black Hair by Domenico Gnoli, 1969.

I have Alice Maher’s 1998 Magdelene…and an obvious hair thing.

I think these two together would be an interesting conversation.

What I read:

What I thought:

When I hear someone say that they can’t eat something because of the smell or the texture I can’t help but think that they have some deep and unconscious fear of vaginas.

There’s a lot of talk of penis envy thrown around, but we rarely ever unpack the silently held terror of the female body.

Eating pungent durian, sucking the slippery brine of an oyster, relishing the smushy flesh of an eggplant…these are all small seductions of the divine feminine/Mother Earth.

Bad bitches.

Scenes like these are the hidden gifts of traffic.

I once also saw a little girl in the backseat of a car holding a tiny kitten up to the window to show off to everyone she passed and I wish to this day I could’ve captured the moment.

What I heard:

Chintamani by Céline Dessberg on repeat.

A wish fulfilling jewel of a song. This song features the Yatga, a traditional Mongolian harp…so beautiful.

I also overheard this profundity at the Agua Fria Nursery (re: gardening):

“It keeps you young but it makes you old.”

What I smelled:

Fresh tulsi from the farmers market & the coming rain before I saw the clouds rolling in.

“We possess an extraordinary ability to smell approaching or recent rain—known as petrichor—at concentrations as low as 100 parts per trillion. This makes the human nose significantly more sensitive to the scent of rain than a shark is to blood.”

What I tasted:

Fernet Branca from the perfect stemware.

What I touched:

Memories from the sea.

I washed and sun dried all my little finds from the Red Sea (and stones collected from around the pyramids). Most of these are now in the hands of humans I love, but the shells I plan to make a necklace out of.

Inspired, in part, by this:

What I wore:

A new pair of sunglasses.

Picked up these vintage Geoffrey Beene does Jackie O shades at El Mercado on Saturday.

What I desired:

All the Simuero toe rings.

What I read:

A prompt from Activating Cities by Noam Assayag.

What I thought:

I am a goddess. Not in the gilded pop culture vernacular of 2016. I am not an image of perfection with flowers in my hair, but I am the perfect representation of an ancient and deeply flawed dichotomy.

I require worship. Adorations laid out in blood and born-again-virginal devotion. With proper sacrifice and veneration, proffered out on the moons of my choosing, I bestow a heaven sent love and the grace of a fierce protection.

But if I come to find the cold marble of my altars bare my face changes from softly carved realism to the sharp angled terror of a broken dream. My hair sprouts rose bushes, all thorns and wilted blooms, my hands of generative magnetic flesh eject daggered talons that rival all monstrous chimeric forms.

I am the goddess of an archaic testament, older than the vengeful father. I am born of a prehistoric pantheon of jealous and beautiful deities. An accidental love child who emerged fully formed from a puddle on a blue tiled floor after an orgy between Janus, Vesta, Kali, Sekhmet, Innana, Amaterasu, Vajrapani and Artemis of Ephesus. A fractured parentage that left me aching for the monogamy of monotheistic worship.

So bring me the first born sun of your never straying eyes. Bring me garlands of fragrant reverence. Lay the perfect lamb of your love atop the cool polished stone of my heart.

The Sphinx’s “bad side”.

I spent an incredible day at the Giza Necropolis, I was in teary eyed awe of it all…but I was most struck by a strange observance…no one was taking any photos from this side of the Sphinx. As you can see in the photo, there are streams of people all gathered on her right side snapping images, but the path on the left seemed to be simply an exit path, I was the only person capturing this angle...which I think is majestic.

What I heard:

Charmed.

A very lovely song to have stuck in ones head.

What I smelled:

A beautifully overwhelming confluence of herbs and spices.

What I tasted:

Lime + coriander chips and mango juice combo.

Maybe the all time best chip flavor I’ve ever tried.

What I touched:

Lotus flower at the Grand Egyptian Museum.

I got scolded for touching the plants just moments after taking this photo.

What I wore:

A Yin-Yang color pallet.

I have been unconsciously vacillating between all black or all white monochrome looks. Perhaps a subconscious attempt at striking some sort of cosmic balance while traveling & integrating?

What I desired:

My accumulation fetish returned with a fury this week. I desired so many many things, ranging from one of Tut’s daybeds to a particular shade of blue paint. These Tell el-Yaahudiya juglets from the 13th Dynasty were notable wants, they were once used to hold perfume and part of my desire lies in my curiosity about what aromatic traces remain.

What I read:

The new issue of Apartmento.

I eagerly await new issues of this bi-annual publication. Endless inspiration and visual feasts on every page.

What I thought:

Does my immunity to jet-lag have something to do with my gift of being able to immediately fall asleep on planes or is it some grander temporal anomaly?

A visual metaphor.

After spending 7 days on a boat floating all around the Red Sea, mostly without cellular connectivity or wifi, the amount of beauty I have seen (sans screen) is nearly non-transferable. So much of what I saw went undocumented since I left my device in one spot and only returned to it for very brief and intermittent whispers of human to human connection with my anchor points back home. Upon my return to shore I was bid farewell by these two at the marina exit.

What I heard:

A concise reordering of my liked songs.

I remembered, totally last minute, that I needed something to listen to while sunbathing and so I quickly downloaded the entirety of my Spotify liked songs list and then somehow managed to make a pretty context appropriate playlist.

What I smelled:

Someone else’s very nicely perfumed sunblock, which ended up being Avene Sun Care Eau Thermale Lotion. A little powdery and slightly orris or violet tinged…similar to, but more elegant than, Desitin diaper cream (which used to be the go-to after-tattoo ointment so I have fond memories of the scent).

What I tasted:

Camel steak a flambé. It tasted like beef + venison, very lean.

What I touched:

Jellyfish that don’t sting.

What I wore:

Nothing but a bathing suit, a peshtemal and a tan.

What I desired:

Gills.

For the first time in as long as I can remember I didn’t have one single desire for a new material possession/object. I’m not sure if this is deeply embarrassing or a weird flex, but for a brief moment in time my accumulation fetish seemed to ebb as the flow of natural and interpersonal beauty over-inundated my capacities.

What I read:

My holy text.

Clarice Lispector is my prophetess, the patron saint of the “glittering and savage”. I have read and re-read her works more times than I can count and I will not stop. Each time I find new lifelines…old underlines that feel like messages in stereo from the past and the future.

“Of what matter am I made in which elements and foundations for a thousand other lives mingle but never merge? I go down every path and still none is mine. I have been sculpted into so many statues and haven’t frozen into place…”

What I thought:

Songs wear like clothes. There are songs that are some sort of equivalent to an antique wedding dress or a sequined costume pulled from the back of an opera house. Time has shifted the energy around them, something is a bit…off…but they still can evoke a very particular state, like an invocation of a lost memory that can be re-entered from different vantage points. Some songs become threadbare, so tattered from hard use and heavy rotation in a previous era that they can’t hold up in any functional way in a new one. Some are just garish and absurd, like fleeting trends, 80’s power ballads always wear like fast fashion caricatures of a moment. Some songs get all the color sucked out of them, they weren’t colorfast and have bled all their vibrancy, the beauty was ephemeral, you can remember the original color and tone but the sonic impression is now a neutralized substitute for its former self. And then there are songs that wear like a perfectly broken-in Margiela tabi boot…they can be slipped into and taken for a walk in almost any time, city, climate or condition.

What I saw:

The Red Sea upon waking.

What I heard:

The last call to prayer on the night of the full moon.

I think we should instate a secular version of this daily ritual, a call to presence strikes me as the most universally needed reminder.

What I smelled:

Accidental poetry.

The designer imposter fragrance market is a global beast, but what I found particularly interesting at this little gilded dupe shop is that nestled between the ubiquitous “Chanel No.5” and “Alien by Thierry Mugler” were “Side Effect”, “Very Sexy Now”, “Moon Sparkle” & “Evidence”. A cursory search shows these are indeed names of perfumes currently on the market, but sans branding and arranged this way they seemed like esoteric potions or lines plucked from teenage fan-fiction.

What I tasted:

Really good feta and tomatoes.

What I touched:

Divine Egyptian cats.

There are cruel masters everywhere but the liberated and unbothered street cats of the world are ungovernable. I always take notes from the creatures on the fringes. The planet will likely forever be in various states of intractable peril but somewhere there is a cat in the cool grass playing joyously with a feather.

What I read:

A phrase from the Tao Te Ching by Lao Tzu.

What I wore:

Two time zones on my wrist.

Chronos must be proud of this Capricorn.

What I desired:

The golden age of air travel.

Can this whole enshittification thing stop already?

What I thought:

Weeks like this remind me that the universe is a loving but stern mother…you truly can have everything you want…just not all at once.

My dear friend Nikki McCauley’s prolific painting practice.

Nikki is one of those rare creatures that seems to have emerged (a la the myth of Athena) fully formed from the head of some divine being. She is incandescently beautiful in both physical and energetic presentation which extends out into all she touches and all she does. Her paintings have a quality of movement to them that feels like dream fragments dancing between realms of existence.

What I heard:

The wind in my chimes.

What I smelled:

Jouissance.

The custom scent Celine and I gathered like dew from the borderlands of our two mystic territories. A dark sparkling parfum, with the dual-natured color of an alexandrite. Notes of black datura, oud, rose and patchouli tendril like smoke in a hazy twilight. She will be sharing more about the scent and our creation process soon via her channels.

What I tasted:

Alfajores.

Helped a small friend with a baking assignment for her Spanish class. Being an auntie figure to an extended family of friends is a particularly sweet compliment. I feel touched to be the kind of adult that kids like.

What I touched:

Silky mud to my skin at Ojo Caliente.

What I read:

Words of encouragement.

What I wore:

A Luca Giordano ceiling on my chest.

What I desired:

A dress with ruffles like the Schizophyllum commune fungus.

What I thought:

I want to eat the sun, is there a biohacking possibility for human photosynthesis? As much as I would miss steak, crudo, cheese, figs, olives, diet coke and pickles, being able to justify my daily sunbathing as a form of vital sustenance (aka a meal) would be wonderful.

John Lilly and the Earth Coincidence Control Office

Quite a good documentary, Chloë Sevigny should really narrate more things.

What I heard:

Hiraeth

Played a card game and listened to this dream realm album by Sofie Birch & Antonina Nowacka. (Thanks to kb for her aways impeccable sonic offerings.)

What I smelled:

Visionaire issue 42: Scent

I was gifted this iconic vintage issue of Visionaire for my birthday two years ago and I have been waiting for the perfect occasion to open it. My friend Celine (delve into her exquisite world here and here) is visiting and we are crafting her a custom perfume so the stars felt aligned for the unveiling. The staggeringly fabulous Angela Ellsworth hosted the olfactory festivities, and the wait was well worth it.

The opening scent, a crystalline cool composition paired with an image of a glacier, elicited a collective ooooh from the group. The entire 21 vial journey took us on a wild ride from the back of a cab with too many black ice air fresheners, to the supposed impression of a wasteland (which we all strangely enjoyed) to the pastel pink bedroom of a 1970s angel baby.

I think life would be perfect if I could spend most of my time smelling beautifully weird things with brilliant people.

What I tasted:

Red Egret white tea

I had the joy of joining in on a contemplative and connective early morning tea ceremony hosted by Luna Van Arsdale at Folklore. The red egret white tea was spring in liquid form, surprisingly transparent and delicate yet overflowing with notes of white flowers and fruit.

What I touched:

Fresh lemon balm leaves, rubbed between my fingers to release their calming aroma.

What I read:

The Cool Overhead Manifesto

Started this, which was so kindly gifted to me by Celine.

“All of the sudden the night became warm, light, and safe. Matter had found a way to extract the remnants of the sun, which had kept small pieces of itself tucked away in everything that exists.”

What I wore:

My groceries as accessories.

I think the contents of our shopping lists can paint a pretty vivid picture of our personalities…glou glou, Kerrygold butter & bacon sums me up remarkably well.

What I desired:

Giorgio Armani SS14 lilac leather & lucite heels.

…and also these hats from the same collection.

What I thought:

I want to live in a small village inhabited only by wild artistic women.

An exhausted welcome.

Anyone else feel a bit like this at the moment? Revitalize me, please.

What I heard:

The ocean in a bell in the desert.

This week was the final meeting of a 6 week Deep Listening workshop facilitated by my creative parter/‘best miss girl’ kb Thomason (a.k.a nomen nescio - creator of Calyx Armatura’s sound scapes).

She has lead us through some very expansive meditative listening practices over the course of the workshop and this final session was deeply moving for me. I cried like a child during a prompt where we were invoking sounds from our past, but the highlight was the sonic impression of the ocean that occurred when 3 phones - playing field recordings of the surrounding environment (mostly wind) - were placed inside a large antique bell.

I miss the sea.

What I smelled:

The ephemeral beauty of fresh lilacs.

What I tasted:

Durian pudding with nutmeg & Noveis Antico Amaro.

What I touched:

My hair. Braiding and unbraiding my waist length strands takes up a considerable portion of my morning and evening routine, I find the ritual very calming.

What I read:

Richard Brautigan.

I like to flip through his collected works when I’m starting to take life a bit too seriously. Exhibit A - this bibliomancy:

What I wore:

An amphora vessel necklace I made for myself.

I used to work in ceramics and was producing on quite a large scale for a while there (some references here & here if you’re curious). I stopped a couple of years ago for a handful of reasons, mostly due to the material constraints and the physical intensity of the work. Lately I’ve been missing it, I know I will find my way back to clay soon, I do really love it as a medium and have some ideas and inspirations for pieces bouncing around in my head. Maybe I’ll be motivated to get back into the studio sooner rather than later… if anyone wants to commission any pieces please reach out.

What I desired:

Breda Pulse Locket watch.

I have the Groove in gold which I adore…and now I want this chic option in silver.

What I thought:

There are days when I see the giant NYC-apartment-sized amphoras flanking the entrance of a shop on Guadalupe street and imagine an absurd alternate reality in which I become a modern day Diogenes.

“When asked what wine he found most pleasant to drink, Diogenes replied, ‘That for which other people pay.’”

This is the first post in a series, if you’ve received this in your inbox its because you are currently on the mailing list for Calyx Armatura Parfums. This weekly newsletter is a behind the scenes offering, the intention is simply to share some of the things that have been inspiring me/my creative practice in the hopes that you might also find resonance.

x Ria

What I saw:

Two People Exchanging Saliva

This award winning short , “set in a society where kissing is punishable by death, and people pay for things by receiving slaps to the face”, brought the perfect mixture of absurdity, poignance and aesthetic beauty that I love in a film.

A scene with the main character procuring black market oral hygiene products reminded me of a humorously speculative vision in Dodie Bellamy’s fantastic book of prose, When the Sick Rule the World, where fragrance sensitive people have made perfume illegal and back-alley dealers are slinging it from the inside pockets of trench coats for the few who still desire scent.

What I heard:

Alarm-mimicking bird chatter at dawn, strong winds & this song on repeat.

What I smelled:

In the Shower by NONFICTION

It’s funny, people seem to think because I make perfume I only wear my own creations…but chefs don’t exclusively eat their own cooking, designers don’t only wear their own garments and artists homes typically aren’t decorated solely with their own works.

I love to sample and explore the compositions of other brands and perfumers, not only does it give me helpful insights into what’s happening in the world of perfume, and contributes to my own growth as a perfumer, but sometimes I just want to smell like someone else.

I am always seeking out new brands to explore and was intrigued by the South Korean line NONFICTION after seeing an article about their new shop opening in NYC.

I haven’t worked my way through the whole set but so far I am most drawn to In the Shower. I liked the idea of a Campari accord, and while I can see where that suggestion can evoke a faint comparison, I find that this smells almost exactly like French Lover by Pierre Bourdon for Frederick Malle. There is a beautiful bitter quality that adds an intriguing facet to the powdery-wood composition. Slightly suggestive of very clean Japanese incense and high quality mens grooming products.

What I tasted:

Chestnut honey + ginger + ginseng + lemon.

This flavor combination is tied with the salty floral-herbal tang of the giant caper berries I’ve been eating straight from the jar.

What I touched:

Ancient stone footpaths worn smooth from thousands of years of use at Tsankawi.

What I read:

Last week a parcel of books arrived unannounced on my doorstep from the Las Cruces based poet Dr. Carlota Caulfield (we have a very sweet mutual friend who made the kismet connection, thank you Tal).

I devoured ‘Fashionable’ in a day and fell in love with her through her fabulous recounting of collections and predilections.

What I wore:

Strappy sandals on dirt and gravel.

I refuse to compromise my sartorial desires.

What I desired:

New sheets

My much loved striped linen sheets are starting to go threadbare and I am currently obsessed with this dual-tone copper verdigris/plum set.

What I thought:

Spring is actually a bit anxiety provoking. All the trees have turned themselves inside-out in such a coquettish fashion, throwing blossoms to the wind like groupies tossing undergarments, while tumescent stalks are thrusting themselves forcefully out of the earth…its all very hyper sexual yet naïve in a plants-gone-wild kind of way. There’s an anticipatory edging vibe to everything that’s just a bit too much for me personally, I’m longing for the late days of summer where everything is slow, heavy with fruit and semi-exhausted.