Pale Fingers and a Touch Upon - SOMA - NOT Perfumes - Johanna Venables 2019
Veiled Truth - Antonio Corradini
There exists within the essence of ‘genius’, those whom utter a few well-spoken words, write a sentence or two of prose, compose a smattering of notes on a musical score and instantly the audience whomever they may be are transfixed and haunted, obsessed and under a form of sorcery. Certain perfumes exhibit this ability to captivate and become addictive all in the same inspiration. Johanna Venables is a mistress of this art. Her collection is one of breathtaking edges and labyrinthine curves, all unfettered and rebellious, SOMA is part of her DROP series, limited releases of new creations, small batch production that is swiftly finding its disciples.
Johanna Venables -NOT Perfums, Karolina Olsen Hagland
A ‘Haunting’ of the most desirable nature, from the very first moment when Johanna let me in on the main components of SOMA, I was fascinated and the wait that ensued only served to fuel my craving for this beauty, curiosity aroused to ‘Alice’ proportions, well what can you expect from voluptuous and ethereal gardenia paired with a telluric champignon!! It was , I can assure you a difficult wait, during which time even undiscovered it worked its way, tendril-like into my subconscious, leaving in its wake, evocative suggestive glances. It has remained, perched in prime position on my desk, akin to a household deity surrounded by attendant paraphernalia, requiring daily obsequious devotion. It truly has that presence.
SOMA - NOT Perfums @Danu Seith-Fyr - ode_r
SOMA, a nectar of the Gods, a rite of exaltation and communion, a route to the state of ekstasis, that rare and heightened state where man reaches outside of his mortal body in search of the Immortal. SOMA - NOT Perfumes is a fragile, pale and winged creature, clothed in antique black lace and jet. Composed of mortal and immortal fibers, not quite of this world, taking your breath away with her beauty and unfathomable quality that defies human definition yet with a strength that is supernaturally compelling. It is the scent of old, crumbled earth merged with the dust of ruined stone, moist and sodden, the fragments of soil held in trembling, perfectly, pale hands. A terrestrial mycelium that gets under my skin and infiltrates me in delicate strands with a scent that is ancient and only comprehended by the few. Under pale night’s light, I lie on this sacred earthen tomb and breathe a life, long erased by time.
Danu sF 2017, AyurvedaPlus World, Absolution and Awake my Soul -Chelloveck via Deviant Art
In former times, for reasons I shall not elaborate here, I have spent hours in the forests by night lit by moons grace, soft falling on my form, bare feet dug into the leaf-mold releasing humid scents into the night’s air and know its liberation. SOMA is the distillate, of my quiet footfall, tender my eyes gaze skywards, yearning for the paleness of Luna. A light to turn my flesh to silver, observed by the unseen, a conjuring that sets the door ajar betwixt realms of waking and realms of sleep.
SOMA is a gardenia given full expression, as I encounter it, soft tread by soft tread upon its path, an encirclement, each turn reveling in this perfume from the Gods. It drifts in swathes of intoxication, true to its association with Morpheus, the Greek deity of dreams and sleep. Myriad arcs, shades of gardenia enfolded with inebriating jasmines and pure sensuality of ylang-ylang hidden in its folded petals fall upon my mortal form as mists, each subsuming the last, imbibing me in their otherworldliness. It strips and renders me faultless with its purity. All her faces are encountered, nothing is left unrevealed.
The scent is beguiling, the green floral casement straining, promising carnality within its virgin constraints, the waxen, incandescent purity of it’s blooming, emitting pure inebriation. Drunkenness in tandem with the creamy, wanton fullness of its zenith, petals scented with the colour of dripping honeyed wax…. Hypnotic and addictive, one must walk the Labyrinth to its centre and there surrender to its soporific embrace
As petals of gardenia voile fall, tinged in pale ochre, SOMA emits the fade gauze of vulnerable, aged parchment in layered complicity, page upon page of aged tome, and it is here in its falling, witnessed by my pale-lit skin, that it leaves vapours descending in slow-motion passage to be cradled in the musty humus, spore rich and fecund.
Here is encapsulement of SOMA, that seized passage, through spectral luminosity to coffered earth.
SOMA is the breathing emergence of the Immortal to Mortal and to Immortal, the perfect trajectory, gifting us a glimpse of the in-between.
. Champignons, Basil, Jasmine Sambac . Gardenia, Jasmine Grandiflora, Ylang-Ylang, Indian Rose, Lotus abs . Opoponax, Deadwood, Sandalwood, Spikenard, Vetiver, Geosmin.
SOMA was a limited release in the DROP Collection from Johanna Venables of NOT Perfumes, it is rumoured to be added to her main collection soon. Bottle bought for my own personal delight and pleasure.
https://notperfumes.com/
Instagram - #notperfumes, #danu_sf, #ode_r_
And I am not here - Chelloveck via Deviant Art. 2. Detail- Bartolomeo veneto, ritratto di genitiluomo - 1510-15. 3. Lune- Danu Seith-Fyr. 4. Alexandre Seon - L’Etoile 1886. 5. Danu Seith-Fyr. 6 Moonlit- Danu Seith-Fyr 2017. 7. Detail Verre- Pierre Carron. 8. In This Twilight - Josephine Cardin.