![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Sucreabeille: "Blood + Bone"
Dec. 31st, 2022 07:52 pmBlood + Bone: A dark forest at night. Moss and cypress, blood and warm fur. A whisper of gunsmoke, and a drop of sweet resins.
I didn't grow up in pine forests. I grew up with oak forests and wetlands and prairie grass that grew tall and dry and very possibly had spiders in it so sometimes you got a face full of spider webs and you had to wipe that away and then when you got home you had to pull all the little burs and the baby ticks that lived in the grass off of you. "Pine" scents are linked to some pretty specific things for me: Christmas trees, floor cleaner, and building things out of (pine) lumber. Pine trees aren't hooked into the whole of my childhood, the being of my childhood, the way that the whispering sound of wind in oak leaves is - the way that oak leaves will whisper and rustle in breezes that don't reach you, that don't exist for you. The feel of oak bark and the crunch of acorns under foot is a different feel than the thick springy needles of pine trees, the way that pine cones roll underfoot. The sloshy squish of mud, the slick squish of saturated clay, the way your shoes can get sucked off your feet... that's different from the dry scuff of feet through dry shed pine needles.
I'm going into detail about pine because this scent smells like pine, but not like Christmas trees or Mr. Clean or that smoky hot scent of sawing two by fours. It smells like the thick of a forest.
Scent is so primal, so linked to our emotions and our memories. I spent a few hours today at a museum at a mold-a-rama exhibit. They had machines with molds I haven't had access to before and we tromped around the whole museum hunting them down. It was great. And the smell of the hot plastic injecting into the molds slams me back into childhood. That's what smell does. It acts directly on the brain. This particular plastic, when heated, smells like childhood and unlike a lot of my childhood it's just... pleasant. A pleasant and excited childhood. A treasured childhood.
"Blood + Bone" smells like someone else's memory. That someone could have been me if my family had stayed in Southern Illinois, had drifted to Kentucky like some of my dad's family did instead of drifting north to Indiana and the general Chicago area.
This scent reminds me of night. It just has a "night" feeling, like standing near a fire and looking into the darkness. I primarily picked up a complex resin-y scent at first, along with something that smelled/felt warm and furry. Smoke twists through it like a bay leaf in broth. This is another complex, round scent that tells a story and conveys an emotion and also smells great on my skin.
I've worn it for several hours, walked around wearing it, and there's something that's kind of... tickling a part deep in my brain. The gun smoke smell is stronger, but not overwhelming, and it's less furry. But it still feels deep and full and coiled.
This is inspired by the podcast "Old Gods of Appalachia" and it absolutely suits that podcast.
I didn't grow up in pine forests. I grew up with oak forests and wetlands and prairie grass that grew tall and dry and very possibly had spiders in it so sometimes you got a face full of spider webs and you had to wipe that away and then when you got home you had to pull all the little burs and the baby ticks that lived in the grass off of you. "Pine" scents are linked to some pretty specific things for me: Christmas trees, floor cleaner, and building things out of (pine) lumber. Pine trees aren't hooked into the whole of my childhood, the being of my childhood, the way that the whispering sound of wind in oak leaves is - the way that oak leaves will whisper and rustle in breezes that don't reach you, that don't exist for you. The feel of oak bark and the crunch of acorns under foot is a different feel than the thick springy needles of pine trees, the way that pine cones roll underfoot. The sloshy squish of mud, the slick squish of saturated clay, the way your shoes can get sucked off your feet... that's different from the dry scuff of feet through dry shed pine needles.
I'm going into detail about pine because this scent smells like pine, but not like Christmas trees or Mr. Clean or that smoky hot scent of sawing two by fours. It smells like the thick of a forest.
Scent is so primal, so linked to our emotions and our memories. I spent a few hours today at a museum at a mold-a-rama exhibit. They had machines with molds I haven't had access to before and we tromped around the whole museum hunting them down. It was great. And the smell of the hot plastic injecting into the molds slams me back into childhood. That's what smell does. It acts directly on the brain. This particular plastic, when heated, smells like childhood and unlike a lot of my childhood it's just... pleasant. A pleasant and excited childhood. A treasured childhood.
"Blood + Bone" smells like someone else's memory. That someone could have been me if my family had stayed in Southern Illinois, had drifted to Kentucky like some of my dad's family did instead of drifting north to Indiana and the general Chicago area.
This scent reminds me of night. It just has a "night" feeling, like standing near a fire and looking into the darkness. I primarily picked up a complex resin-y scent at first, along with something that smelled/felt warm and furry. Smoke twists through it like a bay leaf in broth. This is another complex, round scent that tells a story and conveys an emotion and also smells great on my skin.
I've worn it for several hours, walked around wearing it, and there's something that's kind of... tickling a part deep in my brain. The gun smoke smell is stronger, but not overwhelming, and it's less furry. But it still feels deep and full and coiled.
This is inspired by the podcast "Old Gods of Appalachia" and it absolutely suits that podcast.
