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Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab
Novus New Shit

From the 30 July 2009 update:

SUNBIRD IS LIVE!

They were all so hungry the following morning. Zebediah T. Crawcrustle had a comedic apron on, with the words KISS THE COOK written upon it in violently green letters. He had already sprinkled the brandy-soaked raisins and grain beneath the stunted avocado tree behind the house, and he was arranging the scented woods, the herbs, and the spices on the bed of charcoal. Mustapha Stroheim and his family had gone to visit relatives on the other side of Cairo.

"Does anybody have a match?" Crawcrustle asked.

Jackie Newhouse pulled out a Zippo lighter, and passed it to Crawcrustle, who lit the dried cinnamon leaves and dried laurel leaves beneath the charcoal. The smoke drifted up into the noon air.

"The cinnamon and sandalwood smoke will bring the Sunbird," said Crawcrustle.

"Bring it from where?" asked Augustus TwoFeathers.

"Why, where it always is, third lane after the old market in the Suntown district, just before you reach the old drainage ditch that was once an irrigation canal, and if you find yourself outside One-eye Khayam's carpet shop you have gone too far, "began Crawcrustle. "But I see by the expressions of irritation upon your faces that you were expecting a less succinct, less accurate description. Very well. It is in Suntown, and Suntown is in Cairo, in Egypt, where it always is, or almost always."


Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab is thrilled to present a numbered, limited edition chapbook of Neil Gaiman's acclaimed short story, Sunbird, beautifully illustrated by Julie Dillon. Each package includes a 5ml bottle of perfume, created by Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab, that was inspired by the tale. In Neil's words, "'Sunbird' smells like resin and deserts and the phoenix." This set is a limited run of 1000. 250 were sold by CBLDF at San Diego Comic Con 2009, and the remainder are available through the Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab web site. Sunbird will be available on the BPAL site as long as supplies last.

A million thanks and all our love to Neil, and to Charles Brownstein and his staff at the CBLDF!



This August, we are beginning a series dedicated to Neil Gaiman's 15 Painted Cards From a Vampire Tarot. Each month, a new card will be featured on both the Alchemy Lab and Trading Post sites. Debuting in August: the Fool. Both the perfume oil's label and the corresponding tee were illustrated by the phenomenally ghoulish Madame Talbot.

Each scent is a combination of notes inspired by Neil's story and the symbolically correct oils for the card.

The Vampire Tarot series made an advance appearance at San Diego Comic Con. Madam Talbot's Fool was joined by a variant set created by our beloved friend, Alicia Dabney. Please keep an eye on the CBLDF's web site for release information on the remaining A. Dabney sets.



Sunbird and the 15 Painted Cards From a Vampire Tarot are charitable, not-for-profit ventures: proceeds from every single product go to the Comic Book Legal Defense Fund, which works to preserve and protect the First Amendment rights of the comics community.



Also upcoming this August -

The Death & Dementia Launch Party
Commemorating the 200th anniversary of Edgar Allan Poe!

Please join Gris Grimly & Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab at Dark Delicacies

Sunday, August 23 2009 from 2-4pm

Featuring the premiere of

+ Gris Grimly's new book Tales of Death and Dementia
+ Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab's new line of scents inspired by Gris Grimly's illustrations
+ Original artwork from the book on display and for sale
+ Limited edition silkscreened event posters
+ Limited edition event t-shirts

Dark Delicacies
4213 W. Burbank
Burbank, CA 91505



August really is an exciting month here this year! --

This August, BPAL will be presenting a limited edition set of scents based on George Pérez's groundbreaking comic book mini-series, "Sachs and Violens".

Part of Marvel's Heavy Hitters line, "Sachs and Violens" was a 4 issue comic book miniseries written by Peter David with art by George Pérez. The series was published by Marvel's Epic Comics imprint from 1993 to 1994.

These two scents will debut at Wizard World Chicago at the Hero Initiative booth. They will be available concurrently at www.blackphoenixalchemylab.com.

Proceeds from every bottle sold go to the Hero Initiative, the first federally recognized not-for-profit organization dedicated to helping comic book creators, writers and artists in need. Founded in late 2000 by a consortium of comic book and trade publishers including Marvel Comics, Image Comics, Dark Horse Comics, Wizard Entertainment, CrossGen Comics and Dynamic Forces Inc., the 501(c)(3) charity aims to assist comic creators with health, medical, and quality-of-life assistance.

George Pérez is one of the most popular and influential comic book artists currently working. He is best known for his work on Crisis on Infinite Earths, New Teen Titans, Wonder Woman, Superman, and the Avengers, and has most recently worked on DC's Final Crisis.

Wizard World Chicago will be held August 6 - 9th, 2009 at the Donald E. Stephens Convention Center. The Hero Initiative can be found at booth #1340.



The Hero Initiative will be hosting a really, really kickass, unique event at Wizard World Chicago to launch the line. Keep yer eyes peeled for details!



Please stay tuned, as we'll be posting purchasing information for the Who Killed Amanda Palmer series as soon as we have it, and for information regarding the debut of the Hellboy series! Up-to-date information can be snagged here in the Shiny & New section of our site, through our mailing list, on the bpal.org forum, or through Twitter (@bpal & @bethshepsut).





From the 5 July 2009 update:

Berry Moon is live at BPAL and BPTP!

BERRY MOON
In August, the large masses of berries, which, when in flower, had attracted many wild bees, gradually assumed their bright velvety crimson hue, and by their weight again bent down and broke their tender limbs.
-- Henry David Thoreau

A golden summer musk with warm fig, orange blossom honey, sweet blueberries, and bright velvety crimson raspberries.




Both the tee and the perfume will be live at their respective sites until July 9, 2009.



Also new to the LE's this month

STINKY
A cure for sweaty bits and sticky wilting. Stinky is a summer refresher 'foom for people that don't dig run-of-the-mill "clean" scents: newly-washed skin with a dusting of rice milk, white honey, and baby powder.




Ars Amatoria has two new perfumes

APEROTOS EROS
Strong as death, and cruel as the grave,
Clothed with cloud and tempest's blackening breath,
Known of death's dread self, whom none outbrave,
Strong as death,

Love, brow-bound with anguish for a wreath,
Fierce with pain, a tyrant-hearted slave,
Burns above a world that groans beneath.

Hath not pity power on thee to save,
Love? hath power no pity? Nought he saith,
Answering: blind he walks as wind or wave,
Strong as death.

Unloving love: benzoin, Indian musk, massoia bark, myrrh, ambrette seed, galbanum, bergamot, and fir.


WHOSO LIST TO HUNT
Whoso list to hunt, I know where is an hind!
But as for me, alas, I may no more;
The vain travail hath wearied me so sore,
I am of them that furthest come behind.
Yet may I by no means my wearied mind
Draw from the deer, but as she fleeth afore
Fainting I follow; I leave off therefore,
Since in a net I seek to hold the wind.
Who list her hunt, I put him out of doubt,
As well as I, may spend his time in vain.
And graven with diamonds in letters plain,
There is written her fair neck round about,
"Noli me tangere, for Caesar's I am,
And wild for to hold, though I seem tame."

Sensual brown musk, rich amber, English rose, oak bark, and moss.




And a whole lot is going on at the Mad Tea Party

ALICE'S EVIDENCE
There was a general clapping of hands at this: it was the first really clever thing the King had said that day.

'That proves his guilt,' said the Queen.

'It proves nothing of the sort!' said Alice. 'Why, you don't even know what they're about!'

'Read them,' said the King.

The White Rabbit put on his spectacles. 'Where shall I begin, please your Majesty?' he asked.

'Begin at the beginning,' the King said gravely, 'and go on till you come to the end: then stop.'

These were the verses the White Rabbit read:-

They told me you had been to her,
And mentioned me to him:
She gave me a good character,
But said I could not swim.

He sent them word I had not gone
(We know it to be true):
If she should push the matter on,
What would become of you?

I gave her one, they gave him two,
You gave us three or more;
They all returned from him to you,
Though they were mine before.

If I or she should chance to be
Involved in this affair,
He trusts to you to set them free,
Exactly as we were.

My notion was that you had been
(Before she had this fit)
An obstacle that came between
Him, and ourselves, and it,

Don't let him know she liked them best,
For this must ever be
A secret, kept from all the rest,
Between yourself and me.

'That's the most important piece of evidence we've heard yet,' said the King, rubbing his hands; 'so now let the jury-'

'If any one of them can explain it,' said Alice, (she had grown so large in the last few minutes that she wasn't a bit afraid of interrupting him,) 'I'll give him sixpence. I don't believe there's an atom of meaning in it.'

The jury all wrote down on their slates, 'She doesn't believe there's an atom of meaning in it,' but none of them attempted to explain the paper.

'If there's no meaning in it,' said the King, 'that saves a world of trouble, you know, as we needn't try to find any '

Containing nary a neutron of meaning: rum-quince-cassis with prune and a bit of black ginger.


ALL IN THE GOLDEN AFTERNOON
All in the golden afternoon
Full leisurely we glide;
For both our oars, with little skill,
By little hands are plied
While little hands make vain pretence
Our wanderings to guide

Ah, cruel Three! In such an hour
Beneath such dreamy weather,
To beg a tale of breath too weak
To stir the tiniest feather!
Yet what can one poor voice avail
Against three tongues together?

Imperious Prima flashes forth
Her edict to 'begin it'-
In gentler tone Secunda hopes
'There will be nonsense in it!' -
While Tertia interrupts the tale
Not more than once a minute.

Anon, to sudden silence won,
In fancy they pursue
The dream-child moving through a land
Of wonders wild and new,
In friendly chat with bird or beast -
And half believe it true.

And ever, as the story drained
The wells of fancy dry,
And faintly strove that weary one
To put the subject by,
'The rest next time -It is next time!'
The happy voices cry.

Thus grew the tale of Wonderland
Thus slowly, one by one,
Its quaint events were hammered out -
and now the tale is done,
And home we steer, a merry crew,
Beneath the setting sun.

Alice! a childish story take,
And with a gentle hand
Lay it where Childhood's dreams are twined
In Memory's mystic band,
Like pilgrim's wither'd wreath of flowers
Plucked in far-off land

A bizarre blend of pineapple, tangerine, tobacco, apricot, and seltzer coated with hazy amber and heady sun-baked flowers.


TWINKLE, TWINKLE LITTLE BAT
Twinkle, twinkle, little bat!
How I wonder what you're at!
Up above the world you fly,
Like a teatray in the sky.
Twinkle, twinkle little bat!
How I wonder what you're at!

A sparkly, batty little scent: green tea, melon, mint, lime rind, and champagne grape with lemon balm, mullein, and toadflax.



Two new subsections have been added to MTP -

++ THE GARDEN OF LIVE FLOWERS
This time she came upon a large flower-bed, with a border of daisies, and a willow-tree growing in the middle.

IMPERIOUS TIGER-LILY
`O Tiger-lily,' said Alice, addressing herself to one that was waving gracefully about in the wind, `I wish you could talk!'

`We can talk,' said the Tiger-lily: `when there's anybody worth talking to."

Alice was so astonished that she could not speak for a minute: it quite seemed to take her breath away. At length, as the Tiger-lily only went on waving about, she spoke again, in a timid voice -- almost in a whisper. `And can all the flowers talk?'

`As well as you can,' said the Tiger-lily. `And a great deal louder.'

(Tiger-lily, ginger root, neroli, purple fruits, and frankincense.)



SNOOTY ROSE
`It isn't manners for us to begin, you know,' said the Rose, `and I really was wondering when you'd speak! Said I to myself, "Her face has got some sense in it, thought it's not a clever one!" Still, you're the right colour, and that goes a long way.'

`I don't care about the colour,' the Tiger-lily remarked. `If only her petals curled up a little more, she'd be all right.'

(Red rose, oud, plum, bergamot, and red sandalwood.)



Alice didn't like being criticised, so she began asking questions. `Aren't you sometimes frightened at being planted out here, with nobody to take care of you?'

`There's the tree in the middle,' said the Rose: `what else is it good for?'

`But what could it do, if any danger came?' Alice asked.


HIGH-STRUNG DAISIES
`It says "Bough-wough!" cried a Daisy: `that's why its branches are called boughs!'

`Didn't you know that?' cried another Daisy, and here they all began shouting together, till the air seemed quite full of little shrill voices. `Silence, every one of you!' cried the Tiger-lily, waving itself passionately from side to side, and trembling with excitement. `They know I can't get at them!' it panted, bending its quivering head towards Alice, `or they wouldn't dare to do it!'

`Never mind!' Alice said in a soothing tone, and stooping down to the daisies, who were just beginning again, she whispered, `If you don't hold your tongues, I'll pick you!'

There was silence in a moment, and several of the pink daisies turned white.

`That's right!' said the Tiger-lily. `The daisies are worst of all. When one speaks, they all begin together, and it's enough to make one wither to hear the way they go on!'

(Daisy, pink carnation, pink pepper, and sugar.)


`How is it you can all talk so nicely?' Alice said, hoping to get it into a better temper by a compliment. `I've been in many gardens before, but none of the flowers could talk.'

`Put your hand down, and feel the ground,' said the Tiger-lily. `Then you'll know why.

Alice did so. `It's very hard,' she said, `but I don't see what that has to do with it.'

`In most gardens,' the Tiger-lily said, `they make the beds too soft -- so that the flowers are always asleep.'

This sounded a very good reason, and Alice was quite pleased to know it. `I never thought of that before!' she said.

`It's my opinion that you never think at all,' the Rose said in a rather severe tone.


BRUSQUE VIOLET
`I never saw anybody that looked stupider,' a Violet said, so suddenly, that Alice quite jumped; for it hadn't spoken before.

`Hold your tongue!' cried the Tiger-lily. `As if you ever saw anybody! You keep your head under the leaves, and snore away there, till you know no more what's going on in the world, that if you were a bud!'

(Violet petal, violet leaf, osmanthus, orris, mint, and opoponax.)

`Are there any more people in the garden besides me?' Alice said, not choosing to notice the Rose's last remark.

`There's one other flower in the garden that can move about like you,' said the Rose. `I wonder how you do it -- ' (`You're always wondering,' said the Tiger-lily), `but she's more bushy than you are.'

`Is she like me?' Alice asked eagerly, for the thought crossed her mind, `There's another little girl in the garden, somewhere!'

`Well, she has the same awkward shape as you,' the Rose said, `but she's redder -- and her petals are shorter, I think.'

`Her petals are done up close, almost like a dahlia,' the Tiger-lily interrupted: `not tumbled about anyhow, like yours.'

`But that's not your fault,' the Rose added kindly: `you're beginning to fade, you know -- and then one can't help one's petals getting a little untidy.'


And

++MORAL HYMNODY AND NONSENSE
Lewis Carroll used the Looking Glasses and Rabbit Holes of his fantasy world to mock many contemporary conventions and demonstrate, through nonsense, the strangeness of the human condition. The madness of Wonderland illustrated the absurdities he perceived in the strict, orderly world he lived in.

In the first perfumes of this subseries, our scents parallel the poetic parodies: Lewis Carroll versus Isaac Watts.

HOW DOTH THE LITTLE CROCODILE
How doth the little crocodile
Improve his shining tail,
And pour the waters of the Nile
On every golden scale!

How cheerfully he seems to grin,
How neatly spreads his claws,
And welcomes little fishes in
With gently smiling jaws!

Chocolate peppermint, mint-soaked vanilla, pistachio, oakmoss, and green cedar.


Mocks


AGAINST IDLENESS AND MISCHIEF How doth the little busy bee
Improve each shining hour
And gather honey all the day
From every opening flower!

How skilfully she builds her cell!
How neat she spreads the wax!
And labours hard to store it well
With the sweet food she makes.

In works of labour or of skill,
I would be busy too;
For Satan finds some mischief still
For idle hands to do.

In books, or work, or healthful play,
Let my first years be passed,
That I may give for every day
Some good account at last.

Pollen-dusted honey, diligent tonka, steadfast chamomile, and goodly hyssop.


And


'TIS THE VOICE OF THE LOBSTER
'Tis the voice of the Lobster: I heard him declare
'You have baked me too brown, I must sugar my hair.'
As a duck with its eyelids, so he with his nose
Trims his belt and his buttons, and turns out his toes.
When the sands are all dry, he is gay as a lark,
And will talk in contemptuous tones of the shark;
But, when the tide rises and sharks are around,
His voice has a timid and tremulous sound.

I passed by his garden and marked, with one eye,
How the Owl and the Panther were sharing a pie:
The Panther took pie-crust, and gravy, and meat,
While the Owl had the dish as its share of the treat.
When the pie was all finished, the Owl, as a boon,
Was kindly permitted to pocket the spoon:
While the Panther received knife and fork with a growl,
And concluded the banquet by-

A woody, musky-weird base glooping over with blackberry preserves, a twist of mandarin, strawberry juice, pulverized watermelon, and a handful of smushed gardenia petals.


Thumbs its nose at


THE SLUGGARD
'Tis the voice of the sluggard; I heard him complain,
"You have waked me too soon, I must slumber again."
As the door on its hinges, so he on his bed,
Turns his sides and his shoulders and his heavy head.

"A little more sleep, and a little more slumber;"
Thus he wastes half his days, and his hours without number,
And when he gets up, he sits folding his hands,
Or walks about sauntering, or trifling he stands.

I pass'd by his garden, and saw the wild brier,
The thorn and the thistle grow broader and higher;
The clothes that hang on him are turning to rags;
And his money still wastes till he starves or he begs.
I made him a visit, still hoping to find
That he took better care for improving his mind:
He told me his dreams, talked of eating and drinking;
But scarce reads his Bible, and never loves thinking.

Said I then to my heart, "Here's a lesson for me,"
This man's but a picture of what I might be:
But thanks to my friends for their care in my breeding,
Who taught me betimes to love working and reading.

Pious frankincense, angelic gardenia, unsoiled pear, and staunch ho wood conflict with prickly, overgrown thistle, idle labdanum, and lethargic lavender.



Tiger Lily (Mad Tea Party) is also being discontinued due to the pressure of the current economic stress on our associates. Sincerest apologies for the suddenness of all these discontinuation! - we had no notice at all of two of the primary components of TL going dry, and just received the email with the bad news this morning. All current orders will be filled, and it will be coming down with the Lunacy on July 9th. Imperious Tiger Lily was intended to be a complimentary scent - the Tiger Lily in her element, ordering the other garden inhabitants about and berating Alice - she was meant to be the queen of the Garden of Live Flowers subsection, so to speak. Looks like her inception was fortunate, as her original incarnation has to come down.

Or it was a jinx. o.O

I wish there was more we could do to stem the hemorrhage.

Component issues have been plaguing BPTP, causing bottlenecks with the Warrior Queens. We're doing everything in our power to get all the WQ's out as quickly as possible. Thank you so much for your patience!

But enough of the gloomy gussitude

We have so many amazing, exciting projects coming up this season. The next set of DD Summer Blockbuster scents will be featured at our upcoming trunk show at Dark Delicacies, and a limited run of the first scents in our California series (these are exclusive to C15) will be available at Convergence 15. We're still busting our asses to get the next act of CD out as quickly as possible - finalizing some additional artwork now, cleaning up the copy, and securing final sources for the components. Some really fucking great stuff will be debuting at Comic Con on behalf of the CBLDF (details forthcoming!), and we are working with a few brilliant illustrators, authors, musicians, and comic gods on scents that will be debuting late this summer. A new duets series is due at BPTP, and new baths, soaps, and atmospheric schpritzers are coming soon.





From the 2 July 2009 update:

Due to circumstances beyond out control, the following scents have been discontinued:

Erich Zahn
Eris
Madrid
Masabakes
Marianne
Severin
Succubus
Tannin'iver

Thank you so much for understanding!





From the 6 June 2009 update:

Smoky Moon is live at BPAL and BPTP!

SMOKY MOON 2009: TRISTESSES DE LA LUNE
The Smoke-Veiled Moon of July brought a poem of Baudelaire’s to my mind:

Ce soir, la lune rêve avec plus de paresse;
Ainsi qu'une beauté, sur de nombreux coussins,
Qui d'une main distraite et légère caresse
Avant de s'endormir le contour de ses seins,

Sur le dos satiné des molles avalanches,
Mourante, elle se livre aux longues pâmoisons,
Et promène ses yeux sur les visions blanches
Qui montent dans l'azur comme des floraisons.

Quand parfois sur ce globe, en sa langueur oisive,
Elle laisse filer une larme furtive,
Un poète pieux, ennemi du sommeil,

Dans le creux de sa main prend cette larme pâle,
Aux reflets irisés comme un fragment d'opale,
Et la met dans son coeur loin des yeux du soleil.

- - -

Tonight the moon dreams with more indolence,
Like a lovely woman on a bed of cushions
Who fondles with a light and listless hand
The contour of her breasts before falling asleep;

On the satiny back of the billowing clouds,
Languishing, she lets herself fall into long swoons
And casts her eyes over the white phantoms
That rise in the azure like blossoming flowers.

When, in her lazy listlessness,
She sometimes sheds a furtive tear upon this globe,
A pious poet, enemy of sleep,

In the hollow of his hand catches this pale tear,
With the iridescent reflections of opal,
And hides it in his heart afar from the sun's eyes.

(English translation by William Aggeler, 1954)

Soft sandalwood, nicotiana, and velvety orris drifting over lustrous pale musks, stephanotis, elemi, and cyclamen.


The tee --




Artwork for this lunacy is the Woman in the Moon by Aubrey Beardsley.

The scent and the tee will be live until 10 June 2009.



This summer, we are celebrating the Aztec Feast For the Greatly Revered Ones!

THE FEAST FOR THE GREATLY REVERED ONES
Huey Tecuilhuitl, the Great Festival of Lords, occurs on the 8th month of the 260-day Mexica sacred calendar of Tonalpualli. This festival honors Chicomecoatl, also known as Xilonen, the Goddess of Nourishment and Plenty, Seven Snakes. She represents the female aspect of corn, and she is the counterpart of Centeotl, -- the female sheath to his phallic cob.

The celebration of the Feast assured the return of the rains and a good corn harvest.

Cacao mixed with ground maize, agave wine, and octli, mixed with herbs and spices native to central Mexico.


A tee celebrating the Feast For the Greatly Revered Ones is also live!



Artwork by Jennifer Williamson!


The scent and the tee will be live until 8 August 2009.



Also new to the LEs

LABORES SOLIS
Nothing there is beyond hope,
nothing that can be sworn impossible,
nothing wonderful, since Zeus,
father of the Olympians,
made night from mid-day,
hiding the light of the shining Sun,
and sore fear came upon men.


On July 22, we will be experiencing a total solar eclipse. This is the Labores Solis: the sun’s rays expressed through frankincense, amber, heliotrope, saffron, and chamomile, crossed with Luna’s Artemisias, manifesting in darkness.


NONAE CAPROTINA
The Nones of the Wild Fig, held on the 7th of July and celebrated only by women, is a festival of fertility honoring Juno Caprotina. Both goats and figs are sacred to Juno in this aspect, goats being notoriously randy, and figs being prolifically seedy. The milky sap of the fig tree also links to the concept of fertility, and to Juno as Mother Goddess.

The scent is of goat’s milk, ripe fig, and a hint of sweet myrrh.

Please note: no goats were milked in the process of creating this scent. It is an accord, and this scent is vegan.


Nonae Caprotina and Labores Solis will be live until 8 August 2009.



We are also pleased to announce the first scents in our Nile series

++ ITERU
SEASON OF THE INUNDATION
Hail to thee, O Nile! Who manifests thyself over this land, and comes to give life to Egypt!

Come and prosper!
Come and prosper!
O Nile, come and prosper!
O you who make men to live through his flocks and his flocks through his orchards!
Come and prosper, come,
O Nile, come and prosper!

Akhet: the advent of the rising of the Nile floods -- the heart of the fertility and prosperity of Egypt. As Sirius climbs the horizon, Hapi begins to collect the tears of Isis, causing the waters of the Nile to rise. As the flood ebbed, the waters left a rich, black silt that was integral to the fecundity of the land.

Sweet, black silt mingled with holy myrrh, melilot, hyssop, spikenard, balsam, cedar, and a hint of melting snow from the Abyssinian hills.


THE FESTIVAL OF ANUKET
Anuket is the Embracer, a Goddess of Passion and of the waters of the Nile that caress the land and bring forth fruitfulness. She is the Nourisher of the Fields, the Giver of Life, and She Who Shoots Forth. A goddess of the hunt, archers, movement, and speed, she has the head of a gazelle, and sometimes wears a headdress of ostrich feathers. She is a protector of children at birth, and nursed many of the great pharaohs of Egypt.

Shimmering offerings of gold scattered through life-giving, fertile waters.



We will be following the pathways of the Nile this year, through the Season of the Emergence and the Season of the Harvest. Season of the Inundation and the festival of Anuket will be live until 8 August 2009.



And lastly, our Summer Garden Miniseries!

++ SUMMER GARDEN MINISERIES
LAWN GNOME
Benevolent groundskeepers, these carefree plaster and stone companions lighten the hearts of passers by.

Red currant, molasses, vanilla cream, moss, and patchouli.


PLASTIC PINK FLAMINGO
Vigilant day-glo guardians of lawn and patio, stalwart protectors of the home.

Pink sugar-crusted marshmallow, dandelion, and sap.


SPINNING MULTICOLORED METALLIC PINWHEEL
Polycarbonate and metallic film monuments to domestic whimsy, whirling merrily in the summer breeze.

Raspberry, lime, blueberry, tangerine, lemon, juniper, and white grape.


We live near a cemetery, and on one of the streets that butts up against the graveyard -- the homes share a wall with the cemetery -- there is an abundance of stuff on many, many people’s lawns. Gnome motropolises, massive flocks of flamingos, elaborate witch ball dotted trees, plastic butterflies and dragonflies, plump pastel cherubs, and whipping, brightly colored flags. Its amazing. Its not just one house it’s at least a quarter of the homes over the span of about a mile and a half. I can’t help but think something interesting is permeating these homes because of their proximity to this particular City of the Silent. Driving down that street all the time was part of the inspiration for the Summer Garden series!

And truth be told this series was also inspired, in part, by the many hours I spend staring at my own yard from my home office’s window! I have a demented fondness for gnomes, flamingos (with seasonal outfits), pinwheels, tin birds, stone toads, clay mushrooms, and spinning plastic sunflowers. Garden kitsch: I friggin’ love it all.


And that’s it for now! We’re currently working on getting Act VI of the Carnaval ready to go (wewt!) as well as new additions to the GC (at long last!). Please stay tuned.





From the 8 May 2009 update:

Oh, man. I’m so tired, all I can really do is grunt. Teething: Fun for the Whole Family.

Without further grunting, we present

STRAWBERRY MOON 2009
Strawberries that in gardens grow
Are plump and juicy fine,
But sweeter far as wise men know
Spring from the woodland vine.

No need for bowl or silver spoon,
Sugar or spice or cream,
Has the wild berry plucked in June
Beside the trickling stream.

One such to melt at the tongue's root,
Confounding taste with scent,
Beats a full peck of garden fruit:
Which points my argument.

May sudden justice overtake
And snap the froward pen,
That old and palsied poets shake
Against the minds of men.

Blasphemers trusting to hold caught
In far-flung webs of ink,
The utmost ends of human thought
Till nothing's left to think.

But may the gift of heavenly peace
And glory for all time
Keep the boy Tom who tending geese
First made the nursery rhyme.

Wild strawberries, strawberry flower, vanilla-infused sugar, early summer grasses, and milky dandelion sap.



And a handful of seasonal pleasures --

JUNE GLOOM
It’s May in Los Angeles, and we’re baking slowly as the weather hits the low 100’s

Here at the Lab, we are praying for a little June Gloom.

Bright summer flowers, fresh herbs, and a bit of citrus rind dampened by the scent of morning mist and rain.



LITHA 2009
Midsummer, Ukon Juhla, Alban Heruin, the Light of the Shore. This is the summer solstice, the longest day of the year, marking the sun's highest path across the sky. The Sun God and the Lord of the Forest are at the apex of their strength, and the Holy Day itself is a celebration of light's triumph over darkness. The world around us is teeming with light and life, and on this day fertility rituals for both the land and its people are observed. Golden honey and moss, with honeysuckle, chamomile, parsley, white gardenia, frankincense, carnation, vervain, gum arabic, yarrow, and liquid copal.



ST JOHN’S EVE
Verily I say unto you, Among them that are born of women there hath not risen a greater than John the Baptist: notwithstanding he that is least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he.
-- Matthew 11:11

The birth of John the Baptist coincides with the Summer Solstice, and in keeping with the eternal rhythm of the universe, John understood that as the sun’s strength begins to wane after the Summer Solstice, so did he move aside after preparing the way for the Winter King, Christ.

Ye yourselves bear me witness, that I said, I am not the Christ, but that I am sent before him.

He that hath the bride is the bridegroom: but the friend of the bridegroom, which standeth and heareth him, rejoiceth greatly because of the bridegroom's voice: this my joy therefore is fulfilled.

He must increase, but I decrease.

-- John 3:28-30

St. John’s holy day is full of holy significance that is so primal and archetypal that it transcends any one faith. It is a merging of the rituals of Midsummer with symbols of Biblical faith. On this eve, prayers to God for bountiful harvests and fertility are said over St. John’s blessed bonfires, a leap over the sacred flames brings good fortune in new undertakings and unions, and the waters of rivers and lakes bring renewed strength, vitality, and spiritual cleansing.

A summer bonfire, with frankincense and myrrh, bay rum, and white rose.



The ‘Post is presenting its Lunacy tee in two colors this month pink and white!




And the ‘Post is also offering a lovely, empowering summer Inquest

WARRIOR QUEENS
I am the queen of war. I am the queen of the thunderbolt. I stir up the sea and calm it. I am the rays of the Sun.

We live in a challenging time. Conflict, uncertainty, tension All of us sometimes feel that adversity threatens to overwhelm us, and that we are facing -- both on a personal and worldwide scale -- insurmountable difficulty. To help combat this, we present the Warrior Queens series -- a very different sort of Goblin Inquest. This is an Inquest of Self-Empowerment. Both men and women can find strength within the tales of these Warrior Queens, and may see that through these archetypes, they enable themselves to draw upon a deeper well of internal fortitude.

It's at times like this that we need to look within ourselves and celebrate our triumphs, remember our victories, and use these memories, and the stories of those who came before us, to find courage amidst chaos and hardship.

We invite you to share tales of your personal victories with us as you tell us which Warrior you identify with most, and why.


A little about our Heroines

BOADICEA
Rebel Queen of the Iceni, she led an uprising of the tribes against the Roman Empire. After Claudius’ conquest of the area, the Iceni voluntarily allied themselves to Rome, though Rome was not a gentle parent state. The Romans conquered much of Brittania, desecrated the sacred groves at Mona, and slaughtered the druids. When Boadicea’s husband, Prasutagus, died, his will was ignored and his massive financial debt to Rome was called in forcefully. Iceni was annexed as though it was a conquered territory, property and estates were seized, both tribal nobility and the common folk were enslaved. When Boadicea objected to the treatment of her lands and her people, she was flogged, and her children were grievously injured.

Boadicea took her vengeance.

Under the leadership of Boadicea, the Iceni and Trinovantes united with their neighbors and the surviving druids of Mona to instigate a rebellion. They cut a swath of furious destruction. Her warriors slaughtered Legionary forces, and destroyed Camulodunum, Londinium, and Verulamium -- so scorching the earth beneath Londinium that the scar is still visible beneath modern London.

HER PERFUME
Amber, fig, vanilla flower, oak, patchouli, vetiver, dragon’s blood resin, leather, and neroli.

HER BATH
Fig, neroli, amber, vanilla, patchouli, pine needle, and vetiver.


HUA MULAN
Click, click, for ever click, click;
Mulan sits at the door and weaves.
Listen, and you will not hear the shuttle’s sound,
But only a girl’s sobs and sighs.
‘Oh, tell me, lady, are you thinking of your love,
Oh, tell me, lady, are you longing for your dear?’
‘Oh no, oh no, I am not longing for my dear.
But last night I read the battle-roll;
The Khan has ordered a great levy of men.
The battle-roll was written in twelve books,
And in each book stood my father’s name.
My father’s sons are not grown men,
And of all of my brothers, none is older than me.
Oh let me to the market to buy saddle and horse,
And ride with the soldiers to take my father’s place.’
In the eastern market she’s bought a gallant hors.
In the western market she’s bought saddle and cloth.
In the southern market she’s bought snaffle and reins.
In the northern market she’s bought a tall whip.
In the morning she stole from her father’s and mother’s house.
At night she was camping by the Yellow River’s side.
She could not hear her father and mother calling to her by name,
But only the voice of the Yellow River as its waters swirled through the night.
At dawn they left the River and went on their way;
At dusk they came to the Black Water’s side.
She could not hear her father and mother calling to her by her name,
She could only hear the muffled voices of foreign horsemen riding on the hills of Yen.
A thousand leagues she tramped on the errands of war.

Frontiers and hills she crossed like a bird in flight.
Through the northern air echoed the watchman’s tap;
The wintry light gleamed on coats of mail.
The captain had fought a hundred fights, and died;
The warriors in ten years had won their rest.
The went home, they saw the Emperor’s face;
The Son of Heaven was seated in the Hall of Light.
The deeds of the brave were recorded in twelve books;
In prizes he gave a hundred thousand cash.
Thus spoke the Khan and asked her what she would take.
‘Oh, Mulan asks not to be made
A counsellor at the Khan’s court;
I only beg for a camel that can march
A thousand leagues a day,
To take me back to my home.’

When her father and mother heard that she had come,
They went out to the wall and led her back to the house.
When her little sister heard that she had come,
She went to the door and rouged herself afresh.
When her little brother heard that his sister had come,
He sharpened his knife and darted like a flash
Towards the pigs and sheep.
She opened the gate that leads to the eastern tower,
She sat on her bed that stood in the western tower.
She cast aside her heavy soldier’s cloak,
And wore again her old-time dress.
She stood at the window and bound her cloudy hair;
She went to the mirror and fastened her yellow combs.
She left the house and met her messmates in the road;
Her messmates were startled out of their wits.
The had marched with her for twelve years of war
And never know that Mulan was girl.
For the male hare sits with its legs tucked in,
And the female hare is known for her bleary eye;
But set them both scampering side by side,
And who so wise could tell you ‘This is he’?

HER PERFUME
Pink musk, white ginger, tea leaf, night blooming jasmine, bergamot, and leather.

HER BATH
White ginger, tea leaf, night blooming jasmine, neroli, rose, and lotus root.


JINGU
Known as Pimoko, the sun-daughter, Jingu was an Empress of Japan who served as regent and de facto ruler between the time of the death of her husband and the ascension of her son, Emperor Ojin. Sure that knowledge of her husband’s death would bring discord to her realm, she managed to keep his passing a secret, and successfully put down numerous insurrections in his name. Although she was pregnant with the future emperor of Japan, she donned armor and rode into battle, leading the conquest of Silla.

HER PERFUME
Sakura, white orchid, mandarin, bamboo, red sandalwood, plum blossom, and lilac.

HER BATH
Sakura, plum wine, and rice flower.


SEMIRAMIS
A legendary Assyrian queen, often identified with Sammu-Ramat, the wife of Shamshi-Adad V, she was believed to be the daughter of the goddess Atargatis. Her youth was filled with mythic adventure, and her otherworldly beauty and voluptuous sexuality ensured her two advantageous marriages. When she took the reins of power of Empress of Assyria, she expanded her kingdom by conquering much of Mesopotamia and Asia. She beautified and revitalized Babylon, and implemented improvements in Nineveh that helped to moderate the flow of the Tigris. She was renowned for her military and political prowess, as well as her ferocious and merciless sexual appetite.

HER PERFUME
Red musk, pomegranate, orange blossom, and melon.

HER BATH
Red musk, pomegranate, red cherry, myrrh, and blood orange.


TOMOE GOZEN
A "warrior worth a thousand, ready to confront a demon or a god, mounted or on foot." Tomoe Gozen was a fierce, noble, and courageous samurai, first captain, as well as a renowned beauty. She was an excellent swordswoman, famed for her riding ability and her skill at archery. She fought for Minamoto no Yoshinaka at Battle of Awazu, and her forces were defeated. Legend says she was seen holding the severed head of one of her foes on the battlefield, and vanished, never to be seen again.

HER PERFUME
Red currant, golden amber, blackberry, honey, and pink pepper.

HER BATH
Red currant and honey.


YSABEL
Isabella I, Queen of Castile and León, was a proponent of education, establishing lasting institutions of higher learning, a patron of scholars and artists, and an enthusiastic sponsor of exploratory expeditions, including Christopher Columbus’ voyage to the New World. She possessed a great military mind, and was integral in the retaking of Grenada, thus sealing the Reconquista. With her husband, Ferdinand, she ruled with equal authority and power, unifying Spain and laying the foundations of the Spanish Empire.

HER PERFUME
Red carnation, red roses, Spanish cedar, velvet musk, pomegranate, clove, and incense.

HER BATH
Frankincense, benzoin, carnation, and balsam of Peru.


ZENOBIA
Zenobia was Queen of the Palmyrene Empire. She assumed leadership of her nomadic tribe after her father’s death, eventually marrying King Septimius Odaenathus. Zenobia seemed a contradiction: chaste, dark-eyed, and lovely, but able to drink, fight, and make war like a man. She fought, on horseback, alongside her husband in many battles, and ruled the Empire with a fair and just hand after her husband’s passing. To her people, she was the Lady of Victory, conquering several Roman provinces, including Egypt, and expelling the prefect, Tenagino Probus, who was beheaded after he led an attempt to seize back control of the territory for Rome. Her conquests enabled her to control many vital trade routes, further earning her the ire of the Romans. Unfortunately, she eventually overextended her reach. She was betrayed, and then captured by Emperor Aurelian, displayed in chains in a triumphal procession through Rome, her Empire dissolved. Rather than capitulate to misfortune, she made a new life for herself, and became a Roman matron, philosopher, and socialite.

HER PERFUME
Orris, clove, costus storax, patchouli, hyssop, frankincense, balsam, and saffron.

HER BATH
Orris, amber, balsam, calamus, and frankincense.


Each set comes with a 5ml bottle of the Queen’s perfume, a 4oz bottle of the Queen’s bath oil, and a squirt of Templum Victoriae Atmospheric Spray: frankincense, olive leaf, champaca, beeswax, amber, and bay myrtle.

If you choose not to submit a story, you can leave the selection up to us, or you can specify your choice of Queen in the comments field.

Each of the Warrior Queens are only sold as a set, the packs cannot be split up, and the products in this LE cannot be sold on their own. You may place an order for multiple sets, or place multiple orders; in either case, each will be considered separately in the course of the Inquest process. If you are placing an order for more than one set, you may submit multiple tales, applicable to each order. Please indicate which statement or quiz result pertains to which order.

You have until May 31, 2009 to participate, at which point the Inquest will end. Please note: Inquests will not begin to ship until May 22, 2009.



And with that, I’m going to crawl into bed. Good night, all!







From the 7 April 2009:

Planting Moon is live at BPAL and BPTP!

PLANTING MOON
As is the garden such is the gardener,
A man’s nature runs either to herbs or to weeds. –Francis Bacon

This Full Moon marks a time for new growth, both within nature and within our spirits. It is a time of fertility and fruitfulness, for sowing seeds to ensure blessings and bounty later in the year.

The scent of Planting Moon is that of summer squashes, pole beans, tomato leaves, upturned earth, and sun-warmed herbs.





Stunning artwork provided by our beloved Jennifer Williamson.

The scent (at BPAL) and the tee (at BPTP) will be live until April 11, 2009.



The Velvet Painting Exhibit will be departing the Salon on June 1, 2009, and Le Mat will also vanish from Black Phoenix Trading Post that day.




From the 13 March 2009 update:
Happy Friday the 13th!

o.O



From the 9 March 2009 update:

Flower Moon is live at BPAL and BPTP!

FLOWER MOON
April, too, marks the apex of the year's fertility, expresses the reawakening of the sexuality of the Earth and her inhabitants, and May's full moon celebrates both the fecundity of the creatures and flora of this world and the vibrancy, rejuvenation and life-affirming energy of Spring. Flower Moon embodies the unrestrained bliss, energy and color of the season: a bouquet of vivid, sexy blooms, coated in thick, golden honey... wisteria, swamp jasmine, honeysuckle, daffodil, rhododendron, phlox, and a mix of California wildflowers.


Trading Post presents a lovely, petal-dappled phoenix tee by Jennifer Williamson! --



Lemony yellow and white shimmer inks on black tee!


And in the spirit of springtime flora, there are some new additions to the Garden at Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab!

THE APPLE OF SODOM
their vine is of the vine of Sodom, and of the fields of Gomorrah: their grapes are grapes of gall, their clusters are bitter. The tree’s bark is grey and cork-like, and the fruit, when ripe, is bright yellow, comely and sweet-scented.

After their success in tempting Adam and Eve to the knowledge of sin, Satan and his cronies celebrated by partaking of the Apple:

There stood
A Grove hard by, sprung up with this thir change,
His will who reigns above, to aggravate
Thir penance, laden with Fruit like that
Which grew in Paradise, the bait of Eve
Us'd by the Tempter: on that prospect strange
Thir earnest eyes they fix'd, imagining
For one forbidden Tree a multitude
Now ris'n, to work them furder woe or shame;
Yet parcht with scalding thurst and hunger fierce,
Though to delude them sent, could not abstain,
But on they rould in heaps, and up the Trees
Climbing, sat thicker then the snakie locks
That curld Megæra: greedily they pluck'd
The Frutage fair to sight, like that which grew
Neer that bituminous Lake where Sodom flam'd;
This more delusive, not the touch, but taste
Deceav'd; they fondly thinking to allay
Thir appetite with gust, instead of Fruit
Chewd bitter Ashes, which th' offended taste
With spattering noise rejected: oft they assayd,
Hunger and thirst constraining, drugd as oft,
With hatefullest disrelish writh'd thir jaws
With soot and cinders fill'd; so oft they fell
Into the same illusion, not as Man
Whom they triumph'd once lapst. Thus were they plagu'd
And worn with Famin, long and ceasless hiss,
Till thir lost shape, permitted, they resum'd,
Yearly enjoynd, some say, to undergo
This annual humbling certain number'd days,
To dash thir pride, and joy for Man seduc't.

Native to the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah, this fruit turns to ashes when plucked as a sign of God’s displeasure.


BOHUN UPAS
The Tree of Poisons. Every aspect of this tree is toxic, from the narcotic, lethal fumes that it emits, to its oozing, poisonous sap.

A deceptively tranquil scent: heady fruits, dry bark, and deep green leaves, enveloped by a dark and sinister murk.


THE LOTUS TREE
Thence the winds bore me, blowing fierce and fell,
Across the fish-abounding ocean swell
A nine-days’ space: and on the tenth we reached
The land where the Lotus-eaters dwell,

Who fed on flowery food: there landed we
And drew us water, and by the sea
By the swift ships taking our midday meal
We drank and ate bread in sufficiency.

Then of my crew I sent to bring me word,
Exploring inland, what they saw or heard
Of dwellers on the acres, choosing out
Twain, and as a herald with them for the third.

And straightway going forth, anigh they drew
The Lotus-eaters; who against our crew
Devised not hurt, but gave them of the fruit
To taste upon the lotus-trees that grew.

But whoso of them once began to eat
The lotus-fruit, that is as honey sweet,
Had no will longer in him to return
Or bring back tidings, but desired to fleet

His days among the lotus-eating men,
Eating the lotus, nor return again.
Howbeit I drove them weeping to the ships,
And to the ships’ hold haled and bound them then

Under the benches: but I bade anon
My fellows to the swift ships get them gone
In haste, that none might of the lotus-fruit
Eat, and forget the way he went upon.

Honey-sweet and soporific.


THE TREE OF KNOWLEDGE OF GOOD AND EVIL
After these things, surveying the entrances of the north, above the mountains, I perceived seven mountains replete with pure nard, odoriferous trees, cinnamon and papyrus.

From there I passed on above the summits of those mountains to some distance eastwards, and went over the Erythraean sea. And when I was advanced far beyond it, I passed along above the angel Zateel, and arrived at the garden of righteousness.

In this garden I beheld, among other trees, some which were numerous and large, and which flourished there.

Their fragrance was agreeable and powerful, and their appearance both varied and elegant. The tree of knowledge also was there, of which if any one eats, he becomes endowed with great wisdom.

It was like a species of the tamarind tree, bearing fruit which

resembled grapes extremely fine; and its fragrance extended to a considerable distance.

I exclaimed, How beautiful is this tree, and how delightful is its appearance!

Then holy Raphael, an angel who was with me, answered and said, This is the tree of knowledge, of which your ancient father and your aged mother ate, who were before you; and who, obtaining knowledge, their eyes being opened, and knowing themselves to be naked, were expelled from the garden.

Whiffs of cinnamon bark, almond, and spikenard surround a perfect fruit, whose scent is akin to a tamarind, with the grace of a fine grape, as warm and rich as a fresh fig, glistening red like pomegranate seeds, and as crisp as an apple.


YA-TE-VO
Travelers have told us of a plant, which they assert grows in Central Africa and also in South America, that is not contented with myriad of larger insects which it catches and consumes, but its voracity extends to making even humans its prey. This marvelous vegetable Minotaur is represented as having a short, thick trunk, from the top of which radiate giant spines, narrow and flexible but of extraordinary tenaciousness, the edges of which are armed with barbs, or dagger-like teeth. Instead of growing upright, or at an inclined angle from the trunk, these spines lay their outer ends upon the ground, and so gracefully are they distributed that the trunk resembles an easy couch with green drapery around it. The unfortunate traveler, ignorant of the monstrous creation which lies in his way, and curious to examine the strange plant, or to rest himself upon its inviting stalk approaches without a suspicion of his certain doom. The moment his feet are set within the circle of the horrid spines, they rise up, like gigantic serpents, and entwine themselves about him until he is drawn upon the stump, when they speedily drive their daggers into his body and thus complete the massacre. The body is crushed until every drop of blood is squeezed out of it and becomes absorbed by the gore-loving plant, when the dry carcass is thrown out and the horrid trap set again.

Barbed, sanguinary greenery, fleshy and sharp.


THE ZIEBA TREE
A massive tree that held, in its lowest boughs, a nest of bare-breasted men and women. The souls sprawled within the Zieba Tree’s branches were trapped in reverie, lost for all eternity in their fantasies.

A dreamlike, listless scent, misty and hazed, with wisps of white sandalwood, eddying musks the colors of eventide, shimmering pale resins, davana, lemon blossom, orange blossom, and white peach.



The world is in the midst of massive upheaval, and to help keep the uncertainty, fear, and fretting at bay, we present a new type of Chaos Theory that melds the comfort and harmony of the familiar with a injection of jolly tumult...

CHAOS THEORY V: RECURSIVE SELF-SIMILARITY
You must have chaos within you to give birth to a dancing star. - Friedrich Nietzsche

A new take on Chaos!

For this series, we decided to try a different type of chaotic experimentation. Each CT:5 scent has a base of one of the following scents, in wildly varying proportions:

Dorian
O
Penitence
Snake Oil

From these bases comes a new series of flowing, fragrant fractals that emanate from these four roots. Random combinations of oils have been added to every individual bottle, resulting in a truly unique blend that retains some of the tone, essence, and soul of the original.

This is an exercise in the joy of chance and uncertainty! Each is a one-of-a-kind, utterly random combination of scents, the composition of which is based on whim, mood and gut instinct.

Most common allergens have been omitted from the experiment. No pennyroyal, no nuts, no cinnamon, no cassia. Regardless, if you have any sensitivities, please do not participate in Chaos Theory. The contents of the oils are not recorded [that's the whole point!] and we will not be able to answer questions about specific bottles of CT:5 or guarantee that an allergen is not present in your order.

By purchasing CT:5, you agree to absolve Black Phoenix of any responsibility related to an allergic reaction to one of the oils in this series.

Please make a responsible choice, and use caution and discretion when ordering. This is intended to be a fun, exciting project. Please bear in mind that all Black Phoenix oils are made in an environment that contains nuts, both literally and figuratively.

The Chaos blends were created by m‘self, Doc Constantine, and Mister Teddy from Black Phoenix Trading Post, so you get an extra dollop of chaos! We hope that you enjoy these scents as much as we enjoyed creating them!

CHAOS THEORY V: RECURSIVE SELF-SIMILARITY V1
The Dorian Series

CHAOS THEORY V: RECURSIVE SELF-SIMILARITY V2
The O Series

CHAOS THEORY V: RECURSIVE SELF-SIMILARITY V3
The Penitence Series

CHAOS THEORY V: RECURSIVE SELF-SIMILARITY V4
The Snake Oil Series

A portion of all the proceeds from CT:5 will go to United Way.



Flower Moon will be live until March 13th, and CT:5 will be live until April 15th!



Black Phoenix Trading Post is OVERJOYED to present the first in a series of lockets and pendants inspired by the short stories of Neil Gaiman! This is a charitable, not-for-profit venture: proceeds from every single piece go to Match It For Pratchett, which is raising money to match Terry Pratchett’s $1,000,000.00 donation to the Alzheimer’s Research Trust.

Thank you so much, Neil, for giving us so many years of joy, wonder, and inspiration, and for the pleasure of working with you on this project!

Heartfelt thanks to Alicia Dabney and Julie Dillon for providing the artwork for the lockets and pendant!

Also new to the Post -- the Brimstone and Triple Dagger pendants!



Until next time, ladies and gents!





From the 1 March 2009 update:

Beware the Ides of March! --

THE IDES OF MARCH 2009
The Ides marked an auspicious time in the Roman calendar. Depending on the month in question, the Ides fell on the thirteenth or fifteenth, and usually marked the Full Moon. As we all know, it was not an auspicious day for Julius Caesar, nor was it fortuitous for H.P. Lovecraft, who also met his maker on this infamous day. Tu quoque, Brute, fili mi! A mixture of Italian greenery, gleaming metal, and classical Roman cologne: rosemary, bergamot, lemon rind and vervain with costus, balsam, benzoin, gray amber, dittany, white narcissus and iris.



Irish bards were members of a hereditary caste of learned poets. They were officials of the courts of their chieftains and kings, and served as historians, storytellers, and satirists. They were immersed in the rich history of their clan and country, and learned the intricacies of their craft from birth. Their words held so much power that it was believed that a glam dicing, or satirical incantation, spoken by a bard held the magic of a curse.

This series is celebration of great Irish poets and storytellers. Through these poems, we touch the glory, beauty, and grief that permeates the soul of Ireland.

++ BARDS OF IRELAND
THE DESERTED VILLAGE
OLIVER GOLDSMITH
Good heaven! What sorrows gloomed that parting day,
That called them from their native walks away;
When the poor exiles, every pleasure past,
Hung round their bowers and fondly looked their last,
And took a long farewell, and wished in vain
For seats like these beyond the western main;
And shuddering still to face the distant deep,
Returned and wept, and still returned to weep.
The good old sire the first prepared to go
To new-found worlds, and wept for others' woe;
But for himself, in conscious virtue brave,
He only wished for worlds beyond the grave.
His lovely daughter, lovelier in her years,
Silent went next, neglectful of her charms,
And left a lover's for a father's arms.
With louder plaints the mother spoke her woes,
And blessed the cot where every pleasure rose;
And kissed her thoughtless babes with many a tear,
And clasped them close, in sorrow doubly dear;
Whilst her fond husband strove to lend relief
In all the silent manliness of grief.

O luxury! thou cursed by heaven's decree,
How ill exchanged are things like these for thee!
How do thy potions with insidious joy
Diffuse their pleasures only to destroy!
Kingdoms, by thee to sickly greatness grown
Boast of a florid vigour not their own.
At every draught more large and large they grow,
A bloated mass of rank unwieldy woe;
Till sapped their strength and every part unsound,
Down, down they sink and spread a ruin round.

Even now the devastation has begun,
And half the business of destruction done;
Even now, methinks, as pondering here I stand,
I see the rural virtues leave the land.
Down where yon anchoring vessel spreads the sail,
That idly waiting flaps with every gale,
Downward they move, a melancholy band,
Pass from the shore and darken all the strand.
Contented toil and hospitable care,
And kind connubial tenderness are there;
And piety, with wishes placed above,
And steady loyalty and faithful love.
And thou, sweet Poetry, thou loveliest maid
Still first to fly where sensual joys invade;
Unfit, in these degenerate times of shame,
To catch the heart or strike for honest fame;
Dear charming nymph, neglected and decried,
My shame in crowds, my solitary pride;
Thou source of all my bliss and all my woe,
That found'st me poor at first and keep'st me so;
Thou guide by which the nobler arts excel,
Thou nurse of every virtue, fare thee well!
Farewell, and oh, where'er thy voice be tried,
On Torno's cliffs or Pambamarca's side,
Whether where equinoctial fervours glow,
Or winter wraps the polar world in snow,
Still let thy voice, prevailing over time,
Redress the rigours of the inclement clime;
Aid slighted truth; with thy persuasive strain
Teach erring man to spurn the rage of gain;
Teach him that states of native strength possessed,
Though very poor, may still be very blest;
That trade's proud empire hastes to swift decay,
As ocean sweeps the laboured mole away;
While self-dependent power can time defy,
As rocks resist the billows and the sky.


Where wealth accumulates and men decay. A scent of opulence, luxury, depredation, and dissolusion: velvety orris root and glittering bergamot, ambergris, red currant, honey, and neroli, with red oakmoss, patchouli, labdanum, and black musk.


THE DOLE OF THE KING’S DAUGHTER
OSCAR WILDE
Even stars in the still water,
And seven in the sky;
Seven sins on the King's daughter,
Deep in her soul to lie.

Red roses at her feet,
(Roses are red in her red-gold hair)
And O where her bosom and girdle meet
Red roses are hidden there.

Fair is the knight who lieth slain
Amid the rush and reed,
See the lean fishes that are fain
Upon dead men to feed.

Sweet is the page that lieth there,
(Cloth of gold is goodly prey,)
See the black ravens in the air,
Black, O black as the night are they.

What do they there so stark and dead?
(There is blood upon her hand)
Why are the lilies flecked with red?
(There is blood on the river sand.)

There are two that ride from the south to the east,
And two from the north and west,
For the black raven a goodly feast,
For the King's daughter to rest.

There is one man who loves her true,
(Red, O red, is the stain of gore!)
He hath duggen a grave by the darksome yew,
(One grave will do for four.)

No moon in the still heaven,
In the black water none,
The sins on her soul are seven,
The sin upon his is one.


Red roses, blood-flecked lilies, upturned earth, yew branches, and blood mingled with river sand.


EANACH DHÚIN
ANTOINE Ó RAIFTEIRI
If my health is spared I'll be long relating
Of that boat that sailed out of Anach Cuain.
And the keening after of mother and father
And child by the harbour, the mournful croon!
King of Graces, who died to save us,
T'were a small affair but for one or two,
But a boat-load bravely in calm day sailing
Without storm or rain to be swept to doom.

What wild despair was on all the faces
To see them there in the light of day,
In every place there was lamentation,
And tearing of hair as the wreck was shared.
And boys there lying when crops were ripening,
From the strength of life they were borne to clay
In their wedding clothes for their wake they robed them
O King of Glory, man's hope is in vain.

Unutterable grief expressed through the scent of balsam, frankincense, blackberry leaf, oud, white rose, driftwood, zdravetz, and bitter clove, beneath the cold waters of the River Corrib.


THE HOST OF THE AIR
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS
O'Driscoll drove with a song
The wild duck and the drake
From the tall and the tufted reeds
Of the drear Hart Lake.

And he saw how the reeds grew dark
At the coming of night-tide,
And dreamed of the long dim hair
Of Bridget his bride.

He heard while he sang and dreamed
A piper piping away,
And never was piping so sad,
And never was piping so gay.

And he saw young men and young girls
Who danced on a level place,
And Bridget his bride among them,
With a sad and a gay face.

The dancers crowded about him
And many a sweet thing said,
And a young man brought him red wine
And a young girl white bread.

But Bridget drew him by the sleeve
Away from the merry bands,
To old men playing at cards
With a twinkling of ancient hands.

The bread and the wine had a doom,
For these were the host of the air;
He sat and played in a dream
Of her long dim hair.

He played with the merry old men
And thought not of evil chance,
Until one bore Bridget his bride
Away from the merry dance.

He bore her away in his arms,
The handsomest young man there,
And his neck and his breast and his arms
Were drowned in her long dim hair.

O'Driscoll scattered the cards
And out of his dream awoke:
Old men and young men and young girls
Were gone like a drifting smoke;

But he heard high up in the air
A piper piping away,
And never was piping so sad,
And never was piping so gay.

Peat and rolling grass-covered hills, with wine-dappled heather, white clover, cloudberry, juniper berry, bluebell, dandelion, and cross-leaved heath.


The Ides of March and the Bards of Ireland will be with us until 15 April 2009!




Happy Friday the 13th!



From the 6 February 2009 update:

Windy Moon is live!

WINDY MOON
Stinging wind whips past the trees, stripping the dead and decaying bark from their trunks. This is a time of renewal, both earthly and spiritual.

The scent of wind and wood, and the smoke of council fires burning in the distance.

Windy Moon will be live until February 11, 2009.



From the 10 January 2009 update:

Bony Moon and Earth Ox are live at Black Phoenix!

BONY MOON
In the stark darkness of February, food is so scarce that some are forced to chew bones and make marrow soup for nourishment. It is a time when we honor our ancestors with fasting, solemn ritual, and reflection on the triumphs and accomplishments of those who have passed before us.

White sandalwood, dry cedar, and radiant, crisp lunar herbs.


EARTH OX
A new year's blessing! Peony, China's national flower, with bamboo for flexibility, plum blossom for perseverance, courage, and hope, tangerine for wealth, orange for happiness, lychee for household peace, pine resin for constancy, golden kumquat and quince for prosperity, narcissus and King mandarin for good fortune, peach blossom for longevity, oakmoss, plum, and tobacco for stability, and a splash of blazing red of dragon's blood... to help you scare away the rampaging Nian.


Lupercalia is upon us, and the world is suffused with symbols of love and lust. Here at Black Phoenix, that is triply true! Our offerings during this Season of Schtupping contain adult material, and by clicking through to view the images and purchase our products, you are agreeing that you are a dirty bird who is 18 or older, and that you are permitted by law to view suggestive imagery.

For your pleasure, we are thrilled to present another whimsical sojourn to the bedrooms of Edo-era Japan -- Novel Ideas For Secret Amusements II: A Shunga Exhibition.



And

Ode to Aphrodite, a series inspired by the timeless beauty of vintage nude postcard photography; in our vision, each of these women illustrates a facet of the splendor of the goddess of love.



Before we go any further, we present a scent whose proceeds support the work of the Comic Book Legal Defense Fund:

413 U.S. 15 / Miller Vs California

In 1974, a court ruling established a litmus test for obscenity in the United States. Does the First Amendment protect dirty birds? Yes, and no; it depends on where you are and what your neighbors perceive as naughty. The Court's majority opinion stated that material could only be defined as obscene if

"(a) the average person, applying contemporary community standards, would find that the work, taken as a whole, appeals to the prurient interest; [and] (b) the work depicts or describes, in a patently offensive way, sexual conduct specifically defined by the applicable state law; and (c) the work, taken as a whole, lacks serious literary, artistic, political, or scientific value"

If all three conditions are satisfied, voilà! - your work is obscene.

But is it art?

Although a work considered to have literary, artistic, political, or scientific value cannot, in theory, constitutionally be found to be obscene regardless of whether it appeals to prurient interest or is patently offensive, the question lies in how we can possibly determine with certainty whether or not a film, photograph, tale, or limerick has social value when philosophical and moral compasses vary so wildly from person to person and community to community.

Is a perfume inspired by an 18th Century painting of a dildo obscene?

What would your friends and neighbors say?

413 U.S. 15 / MILLER VS CALIFORNIA
Leather, cognac, fig, ripe berry, and cream, stuffed into a plain brown paper bag.


For traditionalists with a sweet tooth, we present Box of Chocolates! -

Dark Chocolate and Cherry
Dark Chocolate and Pepper-Smoked Caramel
Milk Chocolate Buttercream
White Chocolate, Marshmallow, and Coconut
White Chocolate and Strawberry
White Chocolate and Sugared Violets

The whole Box can be purchased as a set for $100.


Inspired by the sensuality and smuttiness of the season, we have added two new scents to the general catalogue:

++ EXCOLO
EROS
And eros again the loosener of limbs makes me tremble
A sweet-bitter unmanageable creature.

Myrrh, lilac, and honey wine with crimson tea leaf and sweet resins.


++ ARS AMATORIA
PRURIENCE
An unwholesome scent. A craving, an itch. This scent smoulders with a lust that singes the edge of your nerves and leaves your soul chilled: red amber and scorched musk with voluptuous carnation, charred vetiver, sensuous tonka, and orris.


Box of Chocolates, Ode to Aphrodite, Bony Moon, Earth Ox, The Yules, and Wind in the Willows are $17.50 each, the Resurrected and Anniversary scents are $20.00 each, Miller Vs California is $25.00, and the Shunga scents are $23.50 each. The whole Box of Chocolates is available for $100US. The Yules, Resurrected, Anniversary, and Wind in the Willows scents will be live until January 15, 2009, and Miller Vs California, the Box, Ode to Aphrodite, and the Shunga series will be live until March 13, 2009. Bony Moon and Eath Ox will be live until January 13, 2009.


Bony Moon is live at the 'Post!



Adorable artwork by Jennifer Williamson! It will be live until January 13, 2009.

Love is in the air at BPTP, and to celebrate, we're offering a complete Valentine's Day sensory experience:

A room spray

LUPANAR
Good God, what a night that was,
The bed was so soft, and how we clung,
Burning together, lying this way and that,
Our uncontrollable passions
Flowing through our mouths.
If I could only die that way,
I'd say goodbye to the business of living.

Honey, myrrh, ylang ylang, and almond.


An exercise in control and release:

GLACIES BATH OIL
For cooling the libido and soothing the senses.
Cucumber mint, sea lettuce, French lavender, geranium bourbon, and lemon balm.


INCENDIA
For stimulating the libido and arousing the senses.
Vanilla, palmarosa, patchouli, jasmine, cocoa absolute, bergamot, sweet orange, nutmeg, ylang ylang, rose otto, and Haitian vetiver.


And a set of perfumes designed to illustrate the synergy of love and lust:

In alchemy, the white and red roses symbolize the male / female polarity, the active and receptive, the light and the dark. Together, the roses become the alchemical concept of Mercury: perfect unity.

Our Red Rose scent is the embodiment of vigorous passion, and our White Rose personifies purity, virtue, and unconditional love. The scents individually are powerful, but layered together - combined - they become their perfected self.

RED ROSE
Red rose buds, with amber, clove, tonka, Indian musk, fir, and tobacco.

WHITE ROSE
White rose buds, with vanilla tea, benzoin, orris, coconut meat, and frankincense.


The Trading Post Valentine offerings will be available until March 13, 2009.





From the 11 December 2008 update:

Before I get to the good stuff, here's the bad stuff

As many of you out there know, the USPS site has been on the fritz for the past few days, which is hindering our ability to get orders out smoothly. At this time, we're utilizing other methods of processing postage. Your orders will still be going out via USPS, but you may not receive a Click n'Ship notification. Due to all of the redass the USPS site is giving us, we're going a little slower on the shipping than usual.

This applies to both BPAL and BPTP orders.

Currently, BPAL and BPTP are shipping orders from the middle through end of November.

We are working diligently to find ways to circumvent the problems with the USPS site, and we'll do everything in our power to get your orders out to you asap. Thanks for your patience, guys!



December just isn't an easy month, is it?



Now onto the good stuff



The Moon of the Terrible is live at Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab!

On New Year's Day
each thought a loneliness
as winter dusk descends

Desolation at the last moment in the gloaming on New Year's Day: winter snow with lavender, benzoin, lychee, white resins, and a cluster of melancholy, lachrymose lunar herbs and florals.



And... the Moon of the Terrible tee is at Black Phoenix Trading Post!



Mauve and slate grey ink on black tee. Artwork by the inimitable Jennifer Williamson.



Please note: orders that include the Moon of the Terrible tee will not ship in time for Christmas. Lunacy tees do not go into production until we're done taking orders for them, and they take a few weeks to be made.

Now that Storytime has come down at Black Phoenix Trading Post, the goblins are able to get crackin' on reading the pleas. Due to the nature of this project, there is a delay in getting these out so we can ensure that every order gets the attention it deserves. Storytime packs will begin to ship after the 15th.



The Moon of the Terrible will be live on both sites until 14 December 2008!



Happy holidays, everyone! We hope you have the happiest of happy 2009s!





From the 22 November 2008 BPTP update:

The 'Post
has a whole bunch o'new stuff!

New to the GC Bath Oils:

INVIDIA
O, beware, my lord, of jealousy!
It is the green-eyed monster which doth mock
The meat it feeds on.


White grapefruit, tea leaf, white ginger, orange blossom, jasmine, honey myrtle, and lime.


PATIENTIA
Patience and perseverance have a magical effect before which difficulties disappear and obstacles vanish. -- John Quincy Adams

Sandalwood, benzoin, cardamom, calamus, palmarosa, and sage.



And new to the GC Atmosphere Sprays:

DOC CONSTANTINE'S MEDICINE SHOW
Polished wood, olibanum, questionable medicinal herbs, sarsaparilla, and a splash of bay rum.

OKIYA
Cherry blossom, green tea, and sake.

SALOON #10
Nuttal & Mann's Saloon No. 10, Deadwood, Black Hills, Dakota Territory: sweaty leather, chewing tobacco, and Red Eye.


We are phasing out the 8oz room sprays, so only the Queen's Croquet Ground, Cathouse, and Down the Rabbit Hole will be offered in that size. All of the GC sprays are available in 4oz bottles, and in Goblin Squirt form!



We are thrilled to present this season's limited edition offerings:

The Bah Humbug tee!




++ WINTER ATMOSPHERE SPRAY
SNOW WHITE
A chilly, bright perfume: flurries of virgin snow, crisp winter wind and the faintest breath of night-blooming flowers.



++ WINTER BATH OILS
ICE PRINCE BATH OIL
As beautiful and cold as a December storm.

Crystalline musk, winter lily, bergamot, plum, and frozen pine boughs.


PROSERPINA BATH OIL
For thine came pale and a maiden, and sister to sorrow; but ours,
Her deep hair heavily laden with odour and colour of flowers,
White rose of the rose-white water, a silver splendour, a flame,
Bent down unto us that besought her, and earth grew sweet with her name.


The emergence of light in darkness.

Frozen pomegranate and a hint of nocturnal blossoms.


WINTER MAIDEN BATH OIL
Ice-rimed innocence. The blush of youth, frozen for eternity.

Snow-laden woods, iced blackberry and bergamot, white rose, and crystallized amber.


HOLIDAY STRESS RELIEF BATH OIL
Relax, revive, restore.

Peppermint, spearmint, geranium bourbon, lavender, clary sage, white amber, juniper berry, laurel leaf, coriander, opoponax, and mandarin.


Please note: Snow White Atmosphere Spray is only offered in the 4oz size.

The bath oils are all 8oz. Holiday Stress Relief is $40US due to the cost of the components, and Winter Maiden, Ice Prince, and Proserpina are $30US.



And

This season's Inquisition is live!

The Goblins of Yuletide Storytime!

Tell your tale and receive an atmosphere spray and a perfume oil in a fancy schmancy green velveteen pouch!



Storytime and the Bah Humbug tee will be live until December 5, 2008, and the winter room spray and bath oils will be live until December 15, 2008.



A quickie public service announcement:
Please note that all Black Phoenix Trading Post orders, including domestic orders, are currently taking an excess of 14 - 21 business days to process, pack and ship out due to a heavy workload. Lunacy and Inquisition items may exceed 21 - 28 days to process. All of our products are handmade, and the tees are hand-screened.

Due to the nature of the beast, Trading Post cannot guarantee Christmas shipping on orders that contain Storytime, but we will do our very best.

Thank you for understanding!


Pendants and new scent lockets are coming soon!

And that's it for now!





From the 18 November 2008 update:

OMFG, happy sixth anniversary to Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab! We are overjoyed to present six phoenixes that represent what we strive for, and two Resurrected blends:

METAL PHOENIX
Tenacity, force, strength, stability, and determination: Chinese musk and gleaming white metal with honeysuckle, rose mallow, verbena, and carnation.

WOOD PHOENIX
Flexibility, cooperation, expansiveness, and altruism: Chinese musk and five woods with newly budding bamboo shoots, hyssop, chamomile, pink clove, magnolia, walnut, and fig.

WATER PHOENIX
Compassion, eloquence, introspection: Chinese musk and rain, with salty oceanic notes, frankincense, juniper berry, lily of the valley, lavender, cinquefoil, and sweet pea.

FIRE PHOENIX
Enterprise, adventure, restlessness, impulsiveness, and dynamism: Chinese musk and red musk with hyacinth, cactus flower, cubeb berry, galangal, tobacco, pink pepper, and sarsaparilla.

EARTH PHOENIX
Hard work, patience, and harmony: Chinese musk, dark musk, and moist soil with black cherry, opoponax, night-blooming jasmine, plum, woodland tobacco, snakeweed, and cypress.


And because its just plain silly to take yourself too seriously

CANDY PHOENIX
A dusky, effervescent mix of pomegranate and black currant candies, with a dusting of sugared pear and white apple.


2008's Resurrected scents are:

BEAVER'VERSARY
Cheesecake and cupcakes, yo! This is Beaver Moon 2005 resurrected!

SNAKE CHARMER: RESURRECTED
Sensual, sibilant, sexual and hypnotic: Arabian musk and exotic spices slinking through Egyptian amber, enticing vanilla, and a serpentine blend of black plum, labdanum, ambrette, benzoin and black coconut.


The Anniversary and Resurrected scents are $20 each, and will be live until January 15, 2009. Moon of Small Spirits (BPAL, not BPTP) and the Halloweenies have been extended til November 19, 2008.


The BPTP update will be live this week. Keep those eyes peeled!

(Ew. Peeled eyes.)


A little bit of biz'ness schtuff
In order to receive your package by Christmas Eve...

Internationals! Please place your order by December 6th.
Domestics! Please place your order by December 13th.

Please bear in mind that we are not responsible for USPS shenanigans. We do promise that we will bust our asses to get you your orders asap!


Holy. Moly. SIX FRIGGIN' YEARS!

A million thanks to our beloved customers for being our friends and our extended family, for helping us make our dreams a reality, and for celebrating anniversaries, births, and unions with us!

A million thanks to the administrators and moderators of the bpal.org forum for their love, support, and crazyhard work!

And a million thanks to our wonderful staff for helping us stink up the world!



From the 12 November 2008 update:

Moon of Small Spirits is live at BPAL! It will be available until November 15, 2008!

This month's lunacy was inspired by the cold fullness of the moon, the beauty of the season, the quiet renewal of life that winter symbolizes, and by Carl Sandburg's Poem "Early Moon":

MOON OF SMALL SPIRITS
The baby moon, a canoe, a silver papoose canoe, sails and sails in the Indian west.
A ring of silver foxes, a mist of silver foxes, sit and sit around the Indian moon.
One yellow star for a runner, and rows of blue stars for more runners, keep a line of watchers.
O foxes, baby moon, runners, you are the panel of memory, fire-white writing to-night of the Red Man's dreams.
Who squats, legs crossed and arms folded, matching its look against the moon-face, the star-faces, of the West?
Who are the Mississippi Valley ghosts, of copper foreheads, riding wiry ponies in the night?-no bridles, love-arms on the pony necks, riding in the night a long old trail?
Why do they always come back when the silver foxes sit around the early moon, a silver papoose, in the Indian west?

Snow-blanketed wild grasses, sage, swamp tea, cedar, giniminagawunj, copal, rosehip, juniper, clover, elderberry, sweet flag, butterfly weed, wood sorrel, and pine.


The BPTP Small Spirits update will be a little bit late - its going to be live tomorrow night. The winter Inquisition will be live at BPTP soon.

Apologies for the delay on the BPTP update and the Inquisition! Your humble narrator is still adjusting to motherhood. Hee.





From the Halloween 2008 update:

Happy Halloween, everybody!

We are overjoyed to present a new perfume series celebrating Neil Gaiman's brilliant new novel, the Graveyard Book. I truly adore this story, and have already read it several times to Miss Lilith. The story is light, yet melancholy, witty and charming, suspenseful and sweet -- it is an absolute pleasure in every way. Like all of Neil's work, it runs through the full spectrum of emotion, and I'll admit to you guys I cried quite a few times while I read it.

I love stories that move me.

Thank you, Neil, for the opportunity to interpret your story in scent! We love the Graveyard Book, and we love you!


++ THE GRAVEYARD BOOK
BANANA PEEL IN A GRAVEYARD
"We can put the food here," said Silas. "It's cool, and the food will keep longer." He reached into the box, pulled out a banana.

"And what would that be when it was at home?" asked Mrs Owens, eyeing the yellow and brown object suspiciously.

"It's a banana. A fruit, from the tropics. I believe you peel off the outer covering," said Silas, "Like so."

The child - Nobody - wriggled in Mrs Owens arms, and she let it down to the flagstones. It toddled rapidly to Silas, grasped his trouser-leg and held on.

Silas passed it the banana.

Mrs Owens watched the boy eat. "Ba-na-na," she said, dubiously. "Never heard of them. Never. What's it taste like?"

"I've absolutely no idea," said Silas, who consumed only one food, and it was not bananas. "You could make up a bed in here for the boy, you know."

A banana peel discarded among tombstones and crypts.


THE CONVOCATION
A small sign in the hotel lobby announced that the Washington Room was taken that night by a private function, although there was no information as to what kind of function this might be. Truthfully, if you were to look at the inhabitants of the Washington Room that night, you would have no clearer idea of what was happening, although a rapid glance would tell you that there were no women in there. They were all men, that much was clear, and they sat at round dinner tables, and they were finishing their dessert.

There were about a hundred of them, all in sober black suits, but the suits were all they had in common. They had white hair or dark hair or fair hair or red hair or no hair at all. They had friendly faces or unfriendly, helpful or sullen, open or secretive, brutish or sensitive. The majority of them were pink-skinned, but there were black-skinned men and brown-skinned. They were European, African, Indian, Chinese, South American, Filipino, American. They all spoke English when they talked to each other, or to the waiters, but the accents were as diverse as the gentlemen. They came from all across Europe and from all over the world.

A macabre mélange of swanky men's colognes.


EAU DE GHOUL
They all started telling stories, then, of how fine and wonderful a thing it was to be a ghoul, of all the things they had crunched up and swallowed down with their powerful teeth. Impervious they were to disease or illness, said one of them. Why, it didn't matter what their dinner had died of, they could just chomp it down. They told of the places they had been, which mostly seemed to be catacombs and plague-pits ("Plague Pits is good eatin'," said the Emperor of China, and everyone agreed.) They told Bod how they had got their names and how he, in his turn, once he had become a nameless ghoul, would be named, as they had been.

"But I don't want to become one of you," said Bod.

"One way or another," said the Bishop of Bath and Wells, cheerily, "you'll become one of us. The other way is messier, involves being digested, and you're not really around very long to enjoy it."

"But that's not a good thing to talk about," said the Emperor of China."Best to be a Ghoul. We're afraid of nuffink!"

And all the ghouls around the coffin-wood fire howled at this statement, and growled and sang and exclaimed at how wise they were, and how mighty, and how fine it was to be scared of nothing.

Dessicated skin coated in blackened ginger, cinnamon, and mold-flecked dirt, with cumin, bitter clove, leather, and dried blood.


GHÛLHEIM
Ghouls do not build. They are parasites and scavengers, eaters of carrion. The city they call Ghûlheim is something they found, long ago, but did not make. No one they call knows (if anyone human ever knew) what kind of creatures it was that made those buildings, who honeycombed the rock with tunnels and towers, but it is certain that no-one but the ghoul-folk could have wanted to stay there, or even to approach that place.

Even from the path below Ghûlheim, even from miles away, Bod could see that all of the angles were wrong -- that the walls sloped crazily, that it was every nightmare he had ever endured made into a place, like a huge mouth of jutting teeth. It was a city that had been built just to be abandoned, in which all the fears and madnesses and revulsions of the creatures who built it were made into stone. The ghoul folk had found it and delighted in it and called it home.

A dark and disjointed scent: smoke and black musk, bladderwrack, opopponax, galangal, and pepper.


THE LADY ON THE GREY
A huge white horse, of the kind that the people who know horses would call a "grey", came ambling up the side of the hill. The pounding of its hooves could be heard before it was seen, along with the crashing it made as it pushed through the little bushes and thickets, through the brambles and the ivy and the gorse that had grown up on the side of the hill. The size of a Shire horse it was, a full nineteen hands or more. It was a horse that could have carried a knight in full armour into combat, but all it carried on its naked back was a woman, clothed from head to foot in grey. Her long skirt and her shawl might have been spun out of old cobwebs.

Her face was serene, and peaceful.

They knew her, the graveyard folk, for each of us encounters the lady on the grey at the end of our days, and there is no forgetting her.

The horse paused beside the obelisk. In the east the sky was lightening gently, a pearlish, pre-dawn luminescence that made the people of the graveyard uneasy and made them think about returning to their comfortable homes. Even so, not a one of them moved. They were watching the lady on the grey, each of them half-excited, half-scared. The dead are not superstitious, not as a rule, but they watched her as a Roman Augur might have watched the sacred crows circle, seeking wisdom, seeking a clue.

And she spoke to them.

In a voice like the chiming of a hundred tiny silver bells she said only, "The dead should have charity." And she smiled.

Ethereal, opalescent, and radiant: pearly sandalwood, white amber, tobacco flower, orris, castoreum bouquet, soft resins, and pale petals.


THE MACABRAY
Mistress Owens pushed him out of the Owens's little tomb. "Get along with you," she said. "I've got business to attend to."

Bod looked at his mother. "But it's cold out there," he said.

"I should hope so," she said, "it being Winter. That's as it should be. Now," she said, more to herself than to Bod, "shoes. And look at this dress - it needs hemming. And cobwebs--there are cobwebs all over, for heaven's sakes. You get along," this to Bod once more. "I've plenty to be getting on with, and I don't need you underfoot."

And then she sang to herself, a little couplet Bod had never heard before.

"Rich man, poor man, come away.
Come to dance the Macabray."

"What's that?" asked Bod, but it was the wrong thing to have said, for Mistress Owens looked dark as a thundercloud, and Bod hurried out of the tomb before she could express her displeasure more forcefully.

It was cold in the graveyard, cold and dark, and the stars were already out. Bod passed Mother Slaughter in the ivy-covered Egyptian Walk, squinting at the greenery.

"Your eyes are younger than mine, young man," she said. "Can you see blossom?"

"Blossom? In winter?"

"Don't you look at me with that face on, young man," she said. "Things blossom in their time. They bud and bloom, blossom and fade. Everything in its time." She huddled deeper into her cloak and bonnet and she said,

"Time to work and time to play,
Time to dance the Macabray. Eh, boy?"

"I don't know," said Bod. "What's the Macabray?"

White winter flowers plucked from a snow-covered graveyard.


MISS LUPESCU
"Bod," said Silas. "This is Miss Lupescu."

Miss Lupescu was not pretty. Her face was pinched and her expression was disapproving. Her hair was grey, although her face seemed too young for grey hair. Her front teeth were slightly crooked. She wore a bulky mackintosh, and a man's tie around her neck.

"How do you do, Miss Lupescu?" said Bod.

Miss Lupescu said nothing. She sniffed. Then she looked at Silas and said, "So. This is the boy." She got up from her seat and walked all around Bod, nostrils flared, as if she were sniffing him. When she had made a complete circuit, she said, "You will report to me on waking, and before you go to sleep. I have rented a room in a house over there." She pointed to a roof just visible from where they stood. "However, I shall spend my time in this graveyard. I am here as a historian, researching the history of old graves. You understand, boy? Da?"

"Bod," said Bod. "It's Bod. Not boy."

"Short for Nobody," she said. "A foolish name. Also, Bod is a pet name. A nickname. I do not approve. I will call you 'boy'. You will call me 'Miss Lupescu'."

Bod looked up at Silas, pleadingly, but there was no sympathy on Silas's face. He picked up his bag and said, "You will be in good hands with Miss Lupescu, Bod. I am sure that the two of you will get on."

"We won't!" said Bod. "She's horrible!"

"That," said Silas, "Was a very rude thing to say. I think you should apologise, don't you?"

Bod didn't, but Silas was looking at him and he was carrying his black bag, and about to leave for no-one knew how long, so he said, "I'm sorry Miss Lupescu."

At first she said nothing in reply. She merely sniffed. Then she said, "I have come a long way to look after you, boy. I hope you are worth it."

Animalic musk, with amber, patchouli, ho wood, cypress, almond blossom, golden sandalwood, and strange spices.


THE OWENS' TOMB
"I'll do no such thing, with Owens and me having a lovely little tomb over by the daffodil patch. Plenty of room in there for a little one."

Marble and dust surrounded by burdock, knotweed, dandelions, daffodils, and long-dead calla lilies.


THE POTTER'S FIELD
Silas walked across the path without disturbing a fallen leaf, and sat down on the bench, beside Bod. "There are those," he said, in his silken voice, "who believe that all land is sacred. That it is sacred before we come to it, and sacred after. But here, in your land, they blessed the churches and the ground they set aside to bury people in, to make it holy. But they left land unconsecrated beside the sacred ground, potter's fields to bury the criminals and the suicides or those who were not of the faith."

"So the people buried in the ground on the other side of the fence are bad people?"

Silas raised one perfect eyebrow. "Mm? Oh, not at all. Let's see, it's been a while since I've been down that way. But I don't remember anyone particularly evil. Remember, in days gone by you could be hanged for stealing a shilling. And there are always people who find their lives have become so unsupportable they believe the best thing they could do would be to hasten their transition to another plane of existence."

Rich loam, fragrant grasses, murky vetiver, wild herbs, and dry cedar bark.


The artwork on the page is by the amazing Jennifer Rodgers! Thank you, Jennifer!

The proceeds from every single bottle in this series go to the Comic Book Legal Defense Fund, which works to preserve and protect the First Amendment rights of the comics community!

More Graveyard Book scents are in the works, so please do stay tuned!

We at Black Phoenix hope you have the happiest and most horrific of Halloweens! May your candy bags overflow with candy, and your homes stay free of rotten eggs and wads of toilet paper!



From the 13 October 2008 update:

The Lunacy is live at BPAL and BPTP!

++ A LITTLE LUNACY
MOURNING MOON
As virtuous men pass mildly away,
And whisper to their souls, to go,
Whilst some of their sad friends do say,
'The breath goes now,' and some say, 'No:'

So let us melt, and make no noise,
No tear-floods, nor sigh-tempests move;
'Twere profanation of our joys
To tell the laity our love.

Moving of th' earth brings harms and fears;
Men reckon what it did, and meant;
But trepidation of the spheres,
Though greater far, is innocent.

Dull sublunary lovers' love
(Whose soul is sense) cannot admit
Absence, because it doth remove
Those things which elemented it.

But we by a love so much refin'd,
That ourselves know not what it is,
Inter-assured of the mind,
Care less, eyes, lips, and hands to miss.

Our two souls therefore, which are one,
Though I must go, endure not yet
A breach, but an expansion,
Like gold to airy thinness beat.

If they be two, they are two so
As stiff twin compasses are two;
Thy soul, the fix'd foot, makes no show
To move, but doth, if the' other do.

And though it in the centre sit,
Yet when the other far doth roam,
It leans, and hearkens after it,
And grows erect, as that comes home.

Such wilt thou be to me, who must
Like th' other foot, obliquely run;
Thy firmness makes my circle just,
And makes me end, where I begun.

Ethereal, somber, and woeful: Chinese musk, wisteria, white grapefruit, calla lily, violet leaf, orange, gaiac wood, balsam of Peru, and Florentine iris.


We *love* this month's lunacy tee! --



Artwork by Jennifer Williamson!


The Lunacy will be live on both sites until October 17 2008!


I've got a crazybad head cold, and that can only mean one thing: autumn is upon is, and the Yule update is live! Ha HA! First, let's tackle what's new in the GC -

Please give an enthusiastic round of applause and a warm welcome to all the Prince Charmings, Wicked Witches, Bitchy Stepsisters, and Fair Damsels in the crowd - Marchen is live!

++ MARCHEN: BEAUTY AND THE BEAST
BELLE VINU
There was once a very rich merchant, who had six children, three boys and three girls. As he was himself a man of great sense, he spared no expense for their education. The three daughters were all handsome, but particularly the youngest; indeed, she was so very beautiful, that in her childhood every one called her the Little Beauty; and being equally lovely when she was grown up, nobody called her by any other name, which made her sisters very jealous of her. This youngest daughter was not only more handsome than her sisters, but also was better tempered. The two eldest were vain of their wealth and position. They gave themselves a thousand airs, and refused to visit other merchants' daughters; nor would they condescend to be seen except with persons of quality. They went every day to balls, plays, and public walks, and always made game of their youngest sister for spending her time in reading or other useful employments. As it was well known that these young ladies would have large fortunes, many great merchants wished to get them for wives; but the two eldest always answered, that, for their parts, they had no thoughts of marrying any one below a duke or an earl at least. Beauty had quite as many offers as her sisters, but she always answered, with the greatest civility, that though she was much obliged to her lovers, she would rather live some years longer with her father, as she thought herself too young to marry.

It happened that, by some unlucky accident, the merchant suddenly lost all his fortune, and had nothing left but a small cottage in the country. Upon this he said to his daughters, while the tears ran down his cheeks, "My children, we must now go and dwell in the cottage, and try to get a living by labour, for we have no other means of support." The two eldest replied that they did not know how to work, and would not leave town; for they had lovers enough who would be glad to marry them, though they had no longer any fortune. But in this they were mistaken; for when the lovers heard what had happened, they said, "The girls were so proud and ill-tempered, that all we wanted was their fortune: we are not sorry at all to see their pride brought down: let them show off their airs to their cows and sheep." But everybody pitied poor Beauty, because she was so sweet-tempered and kind to all, and several gentlemen offered to marry her, though she had not a penny; but Beauty still refused, and said she could not think of leaving her poor father in this trouble. At first Beauty could not help sometimes crying in secret for the hardships she was now obliged to suffer; but in a very short time she said to herself, "All the crying in the world will do me no good, so I will try to be happy without a fortune."

Red sandalwood, vanilla, rosewood, osmanthus, and white peach.


THE ROSE
When they found that their father must take a journey to the ship, the two eldest begged he would not fail to bring them back some new gowns, caps, rings, and all sorts of trinkets. But Beauty asked for nothing; for she thought in herself that all the ship was worth would hardly buy everything her sisters wished for. "Beauty," said the merchant, "how comes it that you ask for nothing: what can I bring you, my child?"

"Since you are so kind as to think of me, dear father," she answered, "I should be glad if you would bring me a rose, for we have none in our garden." Now Beauty did not indeed wish for a rose, nor anything else, but she only said this that she might not affront her sisters; otherwise they would have said she wanted her father to praise her for desiring nothing.

The promise of a rose: red rose petals, fresh sap, and the sharp green scent of stem and leaf.



++ MARCHEN: EGLE, QUEEN OF SERPENTS
EGLE
In another time, long ago lived an old man and his wife. Both of them had twelve sons and three daughters. The youngest being named Egle. On a warm summer evening all three girls decided to go swimming. After splashing about with each other and bathing they climbed onto the riverbank to dress and groom their hair. But the youngest, Egle, only stared for a serpent had slithered into the sleeve of her blouse. What was she to do? The eldest girl grabbed Egle's blouse. She threw the blouse down and jumped on it, anything to get rid of the serpent. But the serpent turned to the youngest, Egle, and spoke to her in a man's voice:

Egle, promise to become my bride and I will gladly come out.

Egle began to cry how could she marry a serpent? Through her tears she answered:

Please give me back my blouse and return from whence you came, in peace.

But the serpent would not listen:

Promise to become my bride and I will gladly come out.

There was nothing else she could do; she promised the serpent to become his bride.

Ocean water, hyacinth petals, star jasmine, and fir.


When you return go alone, just you and the children and when you approach the beach then call for me:

Zilvine, Zilvineli,
If alive, may the sea foam milk
If dead, may the sea foam blood...

And if you see coming towards you foaming milk then know that I am still alive, but if blood comes then I have reached my end. While you, my children, let not the secret out, do not let anyone know how to call for me.


THE SEA FOAMS MILK
Milk cresting on an ocean wave.

THE SEA FOAMS BLOOD
Blood rising through an ocean wave.



++ MARCHEN: PRUNELLA
PRUNELLA
There was once upon a time a woman who had an only daughter. When the child was about seven years old she used to pass every day, on her way to school, an orchard where there was a wild plum tree, with delicious ripe plums hanging from the branches. Each morning the child would pick one, and put it into her pocket to eat at school. For this reason she was called Prunella. Now, the orchard belonged to a witch. One day the witch noticed the child gathering a plum, as she passed along the road. Prunella did it quite innocently, not knowing that she was doing wrong in taking the fruit that hung close to the roadside. But the witch was furious, and next day hid herself behind the hedge, and when Prunella came past, and put out her hand to pluck the fruit, she jumped out and seized her by the arm.

'Ah! you little thief!' she exclaimed. 'I have caught you at last. Now you will have to pay for your misdeeds.'

Ripe purple plums, wildflowers, and cream.


BENSIABEL
As the years passed Prunella grew up into a very beautiful girl. Now her beauty and goodness, instead of softening the witch's heart, aroused her hatred and jealousy.

One day she called Prunella to her, and said: 'Take this basket, go to the well, and bring it back to me filled with water. If you don't I will kill you.'

The girl took the basket, went and let it down into the well again and again. But her work was lost labour. Each time, as she drew up the basket, the water streamed out of it. At last, in despair, she gave it up, and leaning against the well she began to cry bitterly, when suddenly she heard a voice at her side saying 'Prunella, why are you crying?'

Turning round she beheld a handsome youth, who looked kindly at her, as if he were sorry for her trouble.

'Who are you,' she asked, 'and how do you know my name?'

'I am the son of the witch,' he replied, 'and my name is Bensiabel. I know that she is determined that you shall die, but I promise you that she shall not carry out her wicked plan. Will you give me a kiss, if I fill your basket?'

'No,' said Prunella, 'I will not give you a kiss, because you are the son of a witch.'

'Very well,' replied the youth sadly. 'Give me your basket and I will fill it for you.' And he dipped it into the well, and the water stayed in it. Then the girl returned to the house, carrying the basket filled with water. When the witch saw it, she became white with rage, and exclaimed 'Bensiabel must have helped you.' And Prunella looked down, and said nothing.

Plum juice, lilac, leather, and a smattering of herbs.


++ MARCHEN: RAPUNZEL
RAPUNZEL
Rapunzel was the most beautiful child under the sun. When she was twelve years old the Witch shut her up in a tower, in the middle of a great wood, and the tower had neither stairs nor doors, only high up at the very top a small window. When the old Witch wanted to get in she stood underneath and called out:

`Rapunzel, Rapunzel,
Let down your golden hair,'

for Rapunzel had wonderful long hair, and it was as fine as spun gold. Whenever she heard the Witch's voice she unloosed her plaits, and let her hair fall down out of the window about twenty yards below, and the old Witch climbed up by it.

Angel's trumpet, bois de rose, orris, and wild lettuce.


THE WITCH'S GARDEN
`What ails you, dear wife?'

`Oh,' she answered, `if I don't get some rampion to eat out of the garden behind the house, I know I shall die.'

The man, who loved her dearly, thought to himself, `Come! rather than let your wife die you shall fetch her some rampion, no matter the cost.' So at dusk he climbed over the wall into the witch's garden, and, hastily gathering a handful of rampion leaves, he returned with them to his wife. She made them into a salad, which tasted so good that her longing for the forbidden food was greater than ever. If she were to know any peace of mind, there was nothing for it but that her husband should climb over the garden wall again, and fetch her some more. So at dusk over he got, but when he reached the other side he drew back in terror, for there, standing before him, was the old witch.

Morning glory vines twisting around a patch of rampion, carrot, and parsley, with monkshood, hemlock, elfwort, sage, wormwood, and mandrake.


THORNS
`Ah, ah! you thought to find your lady love, but the pretty bird has flown and its song is dumb; the cat caught it, and will scratch out your eyes too. Rapunzel is lost to you for ever--you will never see her more.'

The Prince was beside himself with grief, and in his despair he jumped right down from the tower, and, though he escaped with his life, the thorns among which he fell pierced his eyes out. Then he wandered, blind and miserable, through the wood, eating nothing but roots and berries, and weeping and lamenting the loss of his lovely bride.

Thorn-spiked vines, blood, and tears.


++ MARCHEN: RUMPELSTILZCHEN
RUMPELSTILZCHEN
I have not been able to find a single new name; but as I came over a high mountain by a wood, where the fox and the hare bid each other good-night, I saw a little house, and before the house was burning a little fire, and round the fire danced a very funny little man, who hopped upon one leg, and cried out: -

"To-day I brew, to-morrow I bake,
Next day the queen's child I shall take;
How glad I am that nobody knows;
My name is Rumpelstilzchen!"

Firewood and ash with an oddly otherworldly blend of patchouli, cardamom, nutmeg, black pepper, tonka, vetiver, and myrrh.


THE MILLER'S DAUGHTER
There was once a miller who was very poor, but he had a beautiful daughter. Now, it happened that he came to speak to the king, and, to give himself importance, he said to him, "I have a daughter who can spin straw into gold."

The king said to the miller, "That is a talent that pleases me well; if she be as skilful as you say, bring her to-morrow to the palace, and I will put her to the proof."

When the maiden was brought to him, he led her to a room full of straw, gave her a wheel and spindle, and said, "Now set to work, and if by the morrow this straw be not spun into gold, you shall die." He locked the door, and left the maiden alone.

Spun gold, tear-soaked straw, and rose-infused amber.


++ MARCHEN: THE SPARROW WITH THE SLIT TONGUE
THE LITTLE SPARROW
One day the old man was sitting in front of his cottage, as he was very fond of doing, when he saw flying towards him a little sparrow, followed by a big black raven. The poor little thing was very much frightened and cried out as it flew, and the great bird came behind it terribly fast, flapping its wings and craning its beak, for it was hungry and wanted some dinner. But as they drew near the old man, he jumped up, and beat back the raven, which mounted, with hoarse screams of disappointment, into the sky, and the little bird, freed from its enemy, nestled into the old man's hand, and he carried it into the house. He stroked its feathers, and told it not to be afraid, for it was quite safe; but as he still felt its heart beating, he put it into a cage, where it soon plucked up courage to twitter and hop about. The old man was fond of all creatures, and every morning he used to open the cage door, and the sparrow flew happily about until it caught sight of a cat or a rat or some other fierce beast, when it would instantly return to the cage, knowing that there no harm could come to it.

Dusty seeds, sedge, brown amber, and sandalwood.


SERPENTS WITH GLITTERING EYES AND FORKY TONGUES
It was a long way to her own house, and the chest seemed to grow heavier at every step. Sometimes she felt as if it would be impossible for her to get on at all, but her greed gave her strength, and at last she arrived at her own door. She sank down on the threshold, overcome with weariness, but in a moment was on her feet again, fumbling with the lock of the chest. But by this time night had come, and there was no light in the house, and the woman was in too much hurry to get to her treasures, to go and look for one. At length, however, the lock gave way, and the lid flew open, when, O horror! instead of gold and jewels, she saw before her serpents with glittering eyes and forky tongues. And they twined themselves about her and darted poison into her veins, and she died, and no man regretted her.

Serpentine green herbs, glistening red currant, sparkling yellow lemon rind, green musk, lime, and snakeskin.



To access the full text of each tale, please click on the name of the story on the Marchen page!



The Yule update is live, as is our winter subseries, Wind in the Willows!

++ LIMITED EDITION: YULE 2008
BUTTER RUM COOKIE
A boozy addition to the devil's bake sale! Rum-soaked butter cookies, crusted with sugar, soaked in almond and garnished with orange rind.


FRAU HOLLE
Frau Holle, or Holda, is the personification of the changes wrought when winter seizes the land: she rides the chill winds in her chariot, shaking out her featherbeds in order to precipitate snowfall. The rolling fog is the smoke from her hearth fire, and thunder claps when she reels her flax. Holda is a goddess of matrons, who governs spinning, domestic chores, witchcraft and witches, and the Wild Hunt. She presides over the transition of souls, both to and from this world. Though she is childless, she watches over children, and the spirits of newborns spring forth from her sacred pool. Her festival falls during midwinter, when the dead roam free. She holds court in Hörselberg, from which the Wild Hunt is issued, and all the beasts in the land heed her call.

Snow-covered pines, witches herbs, bestial musk, flax, and ethereal flowers that represent both birth and death.


GELT
Sevivon, sov, sov, sov
Chanukah, hu chag tov
Chanukah, hu chag tov
Sevivon, sov, sov, sov!
Chag simcha hu la-am
Nes gadol haya sham
Nes gadol haya sham
Chag simcha hu la-am.

A bounty of chocolate coins! Dry cocoa and golden amber!


HANEROT HALALU
Hanerot halalu anachnu madlikin
Al hanissim ve'al haniflaot
Al hatshu-ot ve'al hamilchamot
She-asita la'avoteynu
Bayamim hahem, bazman hazeh
Al yedey kohanecha hakdoshim.
Vechol shmonat yemey Chanukah
Hanerot halalu kodesh hem,
Ve-ein lanu reshut lehishtamesh bahem
Ela lirotam bilvad
Kedai lehodot leshimcha
Al nissecha veal nifleotecha ve-al yeshuotecha.

We light these lights
For the miracles and the wonders,
For the redemption and the battles
That you made for our forefathers
In those days at this season,
Through your holy priests.
During all eight days of Chanukah
These lights are sacred
And we are not permitted to make
Ordinary use of them,
But only to look at them;
In order to express thanks
And praise to your great Name
For your miracles, your wonders
And your salvations.

Olive oil, beeswax, and smoke.


THE HEAD OF HOLOFERNES
And when it was grown late, his servants made haste to their lodgings, and Vagao shut the chamber doors, and went his way.

And they were all overcharged with wine.

And Judith was alone in the chamber.

But Holofernes lay on his bed, fast asleep, being exceedingly drunk.

And Judith spoke to her maid to stand without before the chamber, and to watch:

And Judith stood before the bed praying with tears, and the motion of her lips in silence,

Saying: Strengthen me, O Lord God of Israel, and in this hour look on the works of my hands, that as thou hast promised, thou mayst raise up Jerusalem thy city: and that I may bring to pass that which I have purposed, having a belief that it might be done by thee.

And when she had said this, she went to the pillar that was at his bed's head, and loosed his sword that hung tied upon it.

And when she had drawn it out, she took him by the hair of his head, and said: Strengthen me, O Lord God, at this hour.

And she struck twice upon his neck, and out off his head, and took off his canopy from the pillars, and rolled away his headless body.

And after a while she went out, and delivered the head of Holofernes to her maid, and bade her put it into her wallet.

And they two went out according to their custom, as it were to prayer, and they passed the camp, and having compassed the valley, they came to the gate of the city.

And Judith from afar off cried to the watchmen upon the walls: Open the gates for God is with us, who hath shewn his power in Israel.

And it came to pass, when the men had heard her voice, that they called the ancients of the city.

And all ran to meet her from the least to the greatest: for they now had no hopes that she would come.

And lighting up lights they all gathered round about her: and she went up to a higher place, and commanded silence to be made. And when all had held their peace,

Judith said: Praise ye the Lord our God, who hath not forsaken them that hope in him.

And by me his handmaid he hath fulfilled his mercy, which he promised to the house of Israel: and he hath killed the enemy of his people by my hand this night.

Then she brought forth the head of Holofernes out of the wallet, and shewed it them, saying:

Behold the head of Holofernes the general of the army of the Assyrians, and behold his canopy, wherein he lay in his drunkenness, where the Lord our God slew him by the hand of a woman.

Dried blood, boiled wine, leather, galbanum, onycha, tonka bean, and pomegranate.


JACOB'S LADDER 2008
And Jacob went out from Beersheba, and went toward Haran.

And he lighted upon a certain place, and tarried there all night, because the sun was set; and he took of the stones of that place, and put them for his pillows, and lay down in that place to sleep.

And he dreamed, and behold a ladder set up on the earth, and the top of it reached to heaven: and behold the angels of God ascending and descending on it.

And, behold, the Lord stood above it, and said, I am the Lord God of Abraham thy father, and the God of Isaac: the land whereon thou liest, to thee will I give it, and to thy seed;

And thy seed shall be as the dust of the earth, and thou shalt spread abroad to the west, and to the east, and to the north, and to the south: and in thee and in thy seed shall all the families of the earth be blessed.

And, behold, I am with thee, and will keep thee in all places whither thou goest, and will bring thee again into this land; for I will not leave thee, until I have done that which I have spoken to thee of.

And Jacob awaked out of his sleep, and he said, Surely the Lord is in this place; and I knew it not.

And he was afraid, and said, How dreadful is this place! this is none other but the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven.

The meeting of Heaven and Earth: golden amber, galbanum, benzoin, ambrette, rockrose, costus and tonka.


LARENTALIA
The festival of Roman goddess of death, Larenta, who was also known as Dea Tacita, the Silent Goddess. Spells to silence and bind slanderous enemies were cast on her holy days, as were spells of closure and suppression. During this time, offerings to the dead are left on thresholds, where spirits are said to dwell.

A Roman funeral garden: cypress, thyme, oleander, crocus, gladiola, amaranth, and myrtle shrouded by herbs and flowers sacred to the Silent One.


LE PÈRE FOUETTARD
Once upon a time, there lived a stone-hearted, evil butcher and his grasping, covetous wife. Their shop was located near a parochial boarding school in a small village in eastern France. One day, three little boys passed the butcher's shop. Their clothes were neat and starched, and the wicked couple fancied that they could see gold stitching on the little boys' shirtcuffs. The butcher's eyes gleamed with avarice, and he hatched an evil plan to rob the children. His wife enticed the little boys into the shop and fed them poisoned sweets. Her husband then slit their throats, chopped their little bodies into pieces, and put the pieces into barrels. Good Saint Nicholas discovered the monstrous crime, and, through God's grace, resurrected the little boys. He confronted the vile butcher and forced him to atone for his crime. The butcher became Le Père Fouettard, Saint Nicholas' partner on his Christmas travels. Dressed in a soot-covered black suit that mirrors Father Christmas' suit of red and white, he travels with Saint Nick and dispenses coal and floggings to naughty children.

Whip leather, coal dust, gaufrette, and black licorice.


LICK IT LIKE YOU MEAN IT
Every holiday season should be full of lewd suggestions and filthy double entendres, right? Lick it in earnest! Lick it with vigor! Peppermint candy cane with an extra jolt of sugar.

(As always, we have to state: don't lick perfume. Don't eat it, drink it, cook with it, or use it in any strange and unforeseen way. Black Phoenix is not responsible for that sort of irresponsible funnybusiness. For real. Don't lick it.)


LINES WRITTEN AMONG THE EUGANEAN HILLS
Senseless is the breast and cold
Which relenting love would fold;
Bloodless are the veins and chill
Which the pulse of pain did fill;
Every little living nerve
That from bitter words did swerve
Round the tortur'd lips and brow,
Are like sapless leaflets now
Frozen upon December's bough.

Skin musk, white sandalwood, balsam fir, frozen black berries, cedar, winter rose, and white amber.


THE MAGI
Now when Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judaea in the days of Herod the king, behold, there came wise men from the east to Jerusalem,

Saying, Where is he that is born King of the Jews? for we have seen his star in the east, and are come to worship him.

When Herod the king had heard these things, he was troubled, and all Jerusalem with him.

And when he had gathered all the chief priests and scribes of the people together, he demanded of them where Christ should be born.

And they said unto him, In Bethlehem of Judaea: for thus it is written by the prophet,

And thou Bethlehem, in the land of Juda, art not the least among the princes of Juda: for out of thee shall come a Governor, that shall rule my people Israel.

Then Herod, when he had privily called the wise men, inquired of them diligently what time the star appeared.

And he sent them to Bethlehem, and said, Go and search diligently for the young child; and when ye have found him, bring me word again, that I may come and worship him also.

When they had heard the king, they departed; and, lo, the star, which they saw in the east, went before them, till it came and stood over where the young child was.

When they saw the star, they rejoiced with exceeding great joy.

And when they were come into the house, they saw the young child with Mary his mother, and fell down, and worshipped him: and when they had opened their treasures, they presented unto him gifts; gold, and frankincense, and myrrh.

And being warned of God in a dream that they should not return to Herod, they departed into their own country another way.

And when they were departed, behold, the angel of the Lord appeareth to Joseph in a dream, saying, Arise, and take the young child and his mother, and flee into Egypt, and be thou there until I bring thee word: for Herod will seek the young child to destroy him.

When he arose, he took the young child and his mother by night, and departed into Egypt:

And was there until the death of Herod: that it might be fulfilled which was spoken of the Lord by the prophet, saying, Out of Egypt have I called my son.

Then Herod, when he saw that he was mocked of the wise men, was exceeding wroth, and sent forth, and slew all the children that were in Bethlehem, and in all the coasts thereof, from two years old and under, according to the time which he had diligently inquired of the wise men.

Then was fulfilled that which was spoken by Jeremy the prophet, saying,

In Rama was there a voice heard, lamentation, and weeping, and great mourning, Rachel weeping for her children, and would not be comforted, because they are not.

But when Herod was dead, behold, an angel of the Lord appeareth in a dream to Joseph in Egypt,

Saying, Arise, and take the young child and his mother, and go into the land of Israel: for they are dead which sought the young child's life.

And he arose, and took the young child and his mother, and came into the land of Israel.

But when he heard that Archelaus did reign in Judaea in the room of his father Herod, he was afraid to go thither: notwithstanding, being warned of God in a dream, he turned aside into the parts of Galilee:

And he came and dwelt in a city called Nazareth: that it might be fulfilled which was spoken by the prophets, He shall be called a Nazarene.

An offering of frankincense, gold, and myrrh, with coriander, cumin, ambergris, white wine grape, and vanilla bean.

Now as at all times I can see in the mind's eye,
In their stiff, painted clothes, the pale unsatisfied ones
Appear and disappear in the blue depth of the sky
With all their ancient faces like rain-beaten stones,
And all their helms of silver hovering side by side,
And all their eyes still fixed, hoping to find once more,
Being by Calvary's turbulence unsatisfied,
The uncontrollable mystery on the bestial floor.


MIDNIGHT MASS 2008
I will wash my hands among the innocent; and will compass thy altar, O Lord: That I may hear the voice of thy praise: and tell of all thy wondrous works. I have loved, O Lord, the beauty of thy house; and the place where thy glory dwelleth. Take not away my soul, O God, with the wicked: nor my life with bloody men: In whose hands are iniquities: their right hand is filled with gifts.

But as for me, I have walked in my innocence: redeem me, and have mercy on me. My foot hath stood in the direct way: in the churches I will bless thee, O Lord.

In Roman Catholic tradition, the Christmas season begins liturgically on Christmas Eve, though it is forbidden to celebrate the Christmas Mass before midnight. The most devout attend Midnight Mass, celebrating both the Eucharist and the drama of the Nativity.

This perfume is a traditional Roman Catholic sacramental incense, most often used during a Solemn Mass. Traditionally, five tears of this incense, each encased individually in wax that has been fashioned into the shape of a nail, are inserted into the paschal candle. This is, of course, represents the Five Wounds of Our Risen Savior. Symbolically, the burning of the incense signifies spiritual fervor, the fragrance itself inspires virtue, and the rising smoke carries our prayers to God.

Credo in unum Deum, Patrem omnipotentem, factorem caeli et terrae, visibilium omnium et invisibilium.

Et in unum Dominum Iesum Christum, Filium Dei unigenitum, et ex Patre natum ante omnia saecula. Deum de Deo, Lumen de Lumine, Deum verum de Deo vero, genitum non factum, consubstantialem Patri; per quem omnia facta sunt. Qui propter nos homines et propter nostram salutem descendit de caelis. Et incarnatus est de Spiritu Sancto ex Maria Virgine, et homo factus est. Crucifixus etiam pro nobis sub Pontio Pilato, passus et sepultus est, et resurrexit tertia die, secundum Scripturas, et ascendit in caelum, sedet ad dexteram Patris. Et iterum venturus est cum gloria, iudicare vivos et mortuos, cuius regni non erit finis.

Et in Spiritum Sanctum, Dominum et vivificantem, qui ex Patre procedit. Qui cum Patre et Filio simul adoratur et conglorificatur: qui locutus est per prophetas. Et unam, sanctam, catholicam et apostolicam Ecclesiam. Confiteor unum baptisma in remissionem peccatorum. Et expecto resurrectionem mortuorum, et vitam venturi saeculi. Amen.



NUCLEAR WINTER 2008
Annihilation. The ice, desolation and barrenness of nuclear devastation shot through by a beam of radioactive mints.


ON DARKNESS
You darkness, that I come from,
I love you more than all the fires
that fence in the world,
for the fire makes
a circle of light for everyone,
and then no one outside learns of you.
But the darkness pulls in everything;
shapes and fires, animals and myself,
how easily it gathers them! --
powers and people --
and it is possible a great energy
is moving near me.
I have faith in nights.

An embrace: black poppy, lavender, thick black incense, black amber, rose geranium, Brazilian rosewood, and benzoin.


PERCHTA
Perchta, the Shining One, is the Lady of the Beasts, an incarnation of the goddess Holda. She, too, leads the Wild Hunt, and is the protectress of wild animals, and appears to mortals as either a white-clad, white-skinned, white-haired beauty, or as a brutish, bestial hag. She is called Berhte Mit Dem Fuoze; one of her feet is shaped like a beast's, which gives away her superhuman nature no matter how she is disguised. She is also called Perchta the Belly-Slitter, for, at Yuletide, she castigates the wicked, slovenly, and idle, and rewards those that are generous, good-natured, and kind. The Belly-Slitter enforced community taboos, punishing those that spun during holy days and those who failed to partake in sacred feasts, thus jeopardizing the next year's harvest. Her punishments can be a bit over-the-top, though: they include disemboweling the transgressor and filling the empty cavity with refuse.

Her scent is a blend of wild musk, snow, and alpine flora: Nigritella lithopolitanica, aconite, crocus, touch-me-not, edelweiss, Iris variegate, and violet.


ROSE RED 2008
The perfected winter rose, dew covered and freshly cut.


SNOW BUNNY 2008
Not so spooky, right? Here's to finally being able to hit the slopes again! Soft white powder snow with a touch of youthful girlie perfume.


SNOW WHITE 2008
A chilly, bright perfume: flurries of virgin snow, crisp winter wind and the faintest breath of night-blooming flowers.


SUGAR COOKIE 2008
Affectionately nicknamed 'The Devil's Bake Sale'.


THERE'S A CERTAIN SLANT OF LIGHT
There's a certain Slant of light,
Winter Afternoons -
That oppresses, like the Heft
Of Cathedral Tunes -

Heavenly Hurt, it gives us -
We can find no scar,
But internal difference,
Where the Meanings, are -

None may teach it - Any -
'Tis the Seal Despair -
An imperial affliction
Sent us of the Air -

When it comes, the Landscape listens -
Shadows - hold their breath -
When it goes, 'tis like the Distance
On the look of Death -

Thin, tinny ozone with frankincense, white sandalwood, white amber, hyssop, bitter violet leaf, and shadowy wisps of smoke.


VISITING THE TEMPLE OF AUSPICIOUS FORTUNE ALONE ON THE WINTER SOLSTICE
Deep at the bottom of the well no warmth has yet returned,
The rain which sighs and feels so cold has dampened withered roots.
What sort of man at such a time would come to visit the teacher?
As this is not a time for flowers, I find I've come alone.

Temple incense, rain, and dust.


WINTER OF OUR DISCONTENT 2008
Now is the winter of our discontent
Made glorious summer by this sun of York;
And all the clouds that lour'd upon our house
In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.
Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths;
Our bruised arms hung up for monuments;
Our stern alarums chang'd to merry meetings,
Our dreadful marches to delightful measures.
Grim-visag'd war hath smooth'd his wrinkled front;
And now, -- instead of mounting barbed steeds
To fright the souls of fearful adversaries, --
He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber
To the lascivious pleasing of a lute.
But I, -- that am not shap'd for sportive tricks,
Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass;
I, that am rudely stamp'd, and want love's majesty
To strut before a wanton ambling nymph;
I, that am curtail'd of this fair proportion,
Cheated of feature by dissembling nature,
Deform'd, unfinish'd, sent before my time
Into this breathing world scarce half made up,
And that so lamely and unfashionable
That dogs bark at me as I halt by them; --
Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace,
Have no delight to pass away the time,
Unless to spy my shadow in the sun,
And descant on mine own deformity:
And therefore, -- since I cannot prove a lover,
To entertain these fair well-spoken days, --
I am determined to prove a villain,
And hate the idle pleasures of these days.
Plots have I laid, inductions dangerous,
By drunken prophecies, libels, and dreams,
To set my brother Clarence and the king
In deadly hate the one against the other:
And if King Edward be as true and just
As I am subtle, false, and treacherous,
This day should Clarence closely be mew'd up, --
About a prophecy which says that G
Of Edward's heirs the murderer shall be.
Dive, thoughts, down to my soul...

Embrace your villainy: balsam, myrrh, mandarin orange, bitter clove, artemesia, rosewood, nutmeg, dark musk, smoke and cypress.



++ LIMITED EDITION: THE WIND IN THE WILLOWS
ALL THEY HAD SEEN, AND ALL THEY HAD LOST
As they stared blankly in dumb misery deepening as they slowly realised all they had seen and all they had lost, a capricious little breeze, dancing up from the surface of the water, tossed the aspens, shook the dewy roses and blew lightly and caressingly in their faces; and with its soft touch came instant oblivion. For this is the last best gift that the kindly demi-god is careful to bestow on those to whom he has revealed himself in their helping: the gift of forgetfulness. Lest the awful remembrance should remain and grow, and overshadow mirth and pleasure, and the great haunting memory should spoil all the after-lives of little animals helped out of difficulties, in order that they should be happy and lighthearted as before.

Mist and dewy roses, aspen leaves, and translucent yellow blossoms.


BADGER
"How on earth, Badger." he said at last, "did you ever find time and strength to do all this? It's astonishing!"

"It would be astonishing indeed," said the Badger simply, "if I had done it. But as a matter of fact I did none of it only cleaned out the passages and chambers, as far as I had need of them. There's lots more of it, all round about. I see you don't understand, and I must explain it to you. Well, very long ago, on the spot where the Wild Wood waves now, before ever it had planted itself and grown up to what it now is, there was a city a city of people, you know. Here, where we are standing, they lived, and walked, and talked, and slept, and carried on their business. Here they stabled their horses and feasted, from here they rode out to fight or drove out to trade. They were a powerful people, and rich, and great builders. They built to last, for they thought their city would last for ever."

"But what has become of them all?'" asked the Mole.

"Who can tell?" said the Badger. "People come they stay for a while, they flourish, they build and they go. It is their way. But we remain. There were badgers here, I've been told, long before that same city ever came to be. And now there are badgers here again. We are an enduring lot, and we may move out for a time, but we wait, and are patient, and back we come. And so it will ever be."

Warm earth, deep-reaching roots, dark myrrh, galangal, and Atlas cedar.


THE GAOLER'S DAUGHTER
Now the gaoler had a daughter, a pleasant wench and good-hearted, who assisted her father in the lighter duties of his post. She was particularly fond of animals, and, besides her canary, whose cage hung on a nail in the massive wall of the keep by day, to the great annoyance of prisoners who relished an after-dinner nap, and was shrouded in an antimacassar on the parlour table at night, she kept several piebald mice and a restless revolving squirrel. This kind-hearted girl, pitying the misery of Toad, said to her father one day, "Father! I can't bear to see that poor beast so unhappy, and getting so thin! You let me have the managing of him. You know how fond of animals I am. I'll make him eat from my hand, and sit up, and do all sorts of things."

Gardenia, neroli, and white peach with vanilla amber, cream, and honey.


MOLE
The Mole had been working very hard all the morning, spring-cleaning his little home. First with brooms, then with dusters; then on ladders and steps and chairs, with a brush and a pail of whitewash; till he had dust in his throat and eyes, and splashes of whitewash all over his black fur, and an aching back and weary arms. Spring was moving in the air above and in the earth below and around him, penetrating even his dark and lowly little house with its spirit of divine discontent and longing.

Antiqued sandalwood, patchouli, and soft mosses.


NOWHERE IN PARTICULAR
Late in the evening, tired and happy and miles from home, they drew up on a remote common far from habitations, turned the horse loose to graze, and ate their simple supper sitting on the grass by the side of the cart. Toad talked big about all he was going to do in the days to come, while stars grew fuller and larger all around them, and a yellow moon, appearing suddenly and silently from nowhere in particular, came to keep them company and listen to their talk.

The scent of a moonlit night on the road, orchards in the distance, and swirling dust.


THE PIPER AT THE GATES OF DAWN
Perhaps he would never have dared to raise his eyes, but that, though the piping was now hushed, the call and the summons seemed still dominant and imperious. He might not refuse, were Death himself waiting to strike him instantly, once he had looked with mortal eye on things rightly kept hidden. Trembling he obeyed, and raised his humble head; and then, in that utter clearness of the imminent dawn, while Nature, flushed with fullness of incredible colour, seemed to hold her breath for the event, he looked in the very eyes of the Friend and Helper; saw the backward sweep of the curved horns, gleaming in the growing daylight; saw the stern, hooked nose between the kindly eyes that were looking down on them humourously, while the bearded mouth broke into a half-smile at the corners; saw the rippling muscles on the arm that lay across the broad chest, the long supple hand still holding the pan-pipes only just fallen away from the parted lips; saw the splendid curves of the shaggy limbs disposed in majestic ease on the sward; saw, last of all, nestling between his very hooves, sleeping soundly in entire peace and contentment, the little, round, podgy, childish form of the baby otter. All this he saw, for one moment breathless and intense, vivid on the morning sky; and still, as he looked, he lived; and still, as he lived, he wondered.

Sublime peace, ecstatic joy, and thunderstruck awe: terebinth pine, patchouli, brown musk, linden blossom, honey, mallow, blood orange, heliotrope, and golden amber.


RAT
During luncheon -- which was excellent, of course, as everything at Toad Hall always was -- the Toad simply let himself go. Disregarding the Rat, he proceeded to play upon the inexperienced Mole as on a harp. Naturally a voluble animal, and always mastered by his imagination, he painted the prospects of the trip and the joys of the open life and the roadside in such glowing colours that the Mole could hardly sit in his chair for excitement. Somehow, it soon seemed taken for granted by all three of them that the trip was a settled thing; and the Rat, though still unconvinced in his mind, allowed his good-nature to override his personal objections. He could not bear to disappoint his two friends, who were already deep in schemes and anticipations, planning out each day's separate occupation for several weeks ahead.

Orangewood, pine, wood moss, and vetiver.


THE SEA RAT
"Right," replied the stranger. "I 'm a seafaring rat, I am, and the port I originally hail from is Constantinople, though I 'm a sort of a foreigner there too, in a manner of speaking. You will have heard of Constantinople, friend? A fair city and an ancient and glorious one. And you may have heard too, of Sigurd, King of Norway, and how he sailed thither with sixty ships, and how he and his men rode up through streets all canopied in their honour with purple and gold; and how the Emperor and Empress came down and banqueted with him on board his ship. When Sigurd returned home, many of his Northmen remained behind and entered the Emperor's body-guard, and my ancestor, a Norwegian born, stayed behind too, with the ships that Sigurd gave the Emperor. Seafarers we have ever been, and no wonder; as for me, the city of my birth is no more my home than any pleasant port between there and the London River. I know them all, and they know me. Set me down on any of their quays or foreshores, and I am home again."

"I suppose you go great voyages," said the Water Rat with growing interest. "Months and months out of sight of land, and provisions running short, and allowanced as to water, and your mind communing with the mighty ocean, and all that sort of thing?"

"By no means," said the Sea Rat frankly. "Such a life as you describe would not suit me at all. I 'm in the coasting trade, and rarely out of sight of land. It's the jolly times on shore that appeal to me, as much as any seafaring. O, those southern seaports! The smell of them, the riding-lights at night, the glamour!"

Seaweed, ambergris, and sea buckthorn berry with exotic herbs, incense smoke, ship wood, and Burmese musk.


TOAD
" It's never the wrong time to call on Toad. Early or late, he's always the same fellow. Always good-tempered, always glad to see you, always sorry when you go!"

"He must be a very nice animal," observed the Mole, as he got into the boat and took the sculls, while the Rat settled himself comfortably in the stern.

"He is indeed the best of animals," replied Rat. "So simple, so good-natured, and so affectionate. Perhaps he's not very clever -- we can't all be geniuses; and it may be that he is both boastful and conceited. But he has got some great qualities, has Toady."

Dapper cologne, scorched waistcoat, a bit of pipe tobacco, and motor oil.



TOAD HALL will be available at the Black Phoenix booth at Bat's Day Black Market along with a Toady commemorative tee! Please stop by if you can!

In other news

Please welcome our newest authorized retailers:

Whole Foods Market
3100 Cahaba Village Plaza
Birmingham, AL 35243
(205)912-8400

Whole Foods Market
3540 Wade Ave
Raleigh NC 27607
(919)828-1589

and for for UK customers:

Posh Brats Ltd
13 Swan Bank
Congleton, Cheshire
CW12 1AN
UK
01260 290555

They have joined our happy family of retail outlets --

Nail Polish Etc.
132 E. Main St
Palmyra, PA 17078
(717)832-3388
(Home of East Coast Will Call!)

Whole Foods Market aka Harry's Farmer's Market
1180 Upper Hembree Rd.
Roswell, GA
(770)664-6300

Whole Foods
5945 State Bridge Road
Duluth, GA 30097
(678)514-2400

Whole Foods Market
81 S. Elliott Rd
Chapel Hill, NC 27514
(919)968-1983

Healthy Living Market
222 Dorset Street
South Burlington, VT 05403
(802)863-2569

Le Pink&Co
3820 W. Sunset Blvd
Los Angeles, CA 90026
(323)661-7465

Stop by and show them some love!



More this n'that --

Coming soon to BPAL - the Graveyard Book series! It is a wonderful, sweet, spooky story, and we are thrilled to have the opportunity to work with Neil again! We will, hopefully, be ready to go when the UK release date happens!

The FAQ and Media sections on the site need some serious updating. Someday, someday.


Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaand .

The Inquisition will be rearing its head at Black Phoenix Trading Post in about two weeks or so. Also comin' to the post in the next few months bath powders, new garments, new lockets, pendants, and a whole heap of shiny, fun stuff!




From the 15 September 2008 update:

Your humble narrator is falling asleep sitting up. Lilith is 13 days old, and it feels like we haven't slept in 13 years!

Meanwhile, back at the ranch... Blood Moon 2008 is live!

In October, the crop harvest has past, and all hands turn to the Hunt: the third and final harvest before winter. Blood Moon shines over huntsmen as they ride over reaped grain in pursuit of their prey.

In Christian mythology, Blood Moon may have a darker significance:

"And I looked when He broke the sixth seal, and there was a great earthquake; and the sun became black as sackcloth made of hair, and the whole moon became like blood; and the stars of the sky fell to the earth, as a fig tree casts its unripe figs when shaken by a great wind." -- Revelation 6:12-13

The feral scent of the heat of the chase, deep woods, undulating musks, brushed by forest flora, swirled in the incense of the anointed cherub that covereth, and touched by blood-dimmed lunar oils.



The Blood Moon tee is up at Black Phoenix Trading Post! It will be live until 18 September 2008!

The MVJBA has also posted an update! Sorry to send you guys on an Easter Egg hunt for the MVJBA details, but I can't type anymore -- my face is about to smack down on the keyboard. Hard.



From the 14 August 2008:

Its pretty much T minus zero til Baby Barrial pops, and as such, your faithful narrator is a little brain fried! Add a little SoCal August humidity to the mix, and you've got yourself a preggo zombie. So, rather than babble nonsensically (as I am starting to do), let's get straight to the update schtuff! -

Harvest Moon is live at BPAL and BPTP!


HARVEST MOON 2008
Harvest Moon is celebrated in almost every culture, and the bounty of the season is marked in a myriad of ways. Harvest Moon touches the Equinox, the festival of Janus, the culmination of Homowo, the "crying of the neck" in Cornwall, and the Women's Festival of the Moon. This is a day that celebrates abundance and beauty, fertility and progress, and the light of this full moon blesses new undertakings and reunites lost loves.

The Harvest Moon, by definition, is the Full Moon that falls closest to the Autumnal Equinox, and thus, it shares some of that Sabbat's characteristics. This Full Moon was thus named because it rises within half an hour of the sun's setting, in the Northern Hemisphere, and at this time farmers are able to work longer into the night by the light of this Moon. As the year draws to a close, the Full Moon rises an average of fifty minutes later each night, with the exception of a few nights surrounding the Harvest Moon, which only rises 10-30 minutes later. This moon is also, to the human eye, the fullest and largest of the year's Moons, hanging gloriously huge, yellow and low in the night sky, and many lunar illusions play tricks our eyes at this time.

The Harvest ushers in many celebrations, including the Equinox and the Festival of Janus, God of Doors. Janus is the Roman Lord of Gateways, beginnings and endings, and transitions. Thus, the Harvest Moon is a time for blessing new ventures, the onset of new and progressive phases in one's life, and rites of passage into adulthood. This time of year also marks one of the Festivals of Dionysus, Lord of Ecstasy and the Vine.

This Harvest lunacy combines the autumnal scents of balsam fir, cedar, juniper berry, clove, saffron, damson plum, sage, black cherry, and fennel with the crushed wine grapes of Dionysus and Janus' lingum aloes.




This gorgeous tee design was doodled by the incomperable Jennifer Williamson! Corn-yellow ink on chocolate brown tee.


Also in our LE section this month

HELLHOUND ON MY TRAIL
blues falling down like hail
And the day keeps on remindin' me, there's a hellhound on my trail

August 16th marks the day the Devil came to call on the King of the Delta Blues.

Bay rum, bourbon vanilla, galangal, hyssop, High John the Conqueror root, tobacco, life everlasting, and brimstone.


Aaaaaand its that time of year again! Halloween at Black Phoenix! -

++ HALLOWEENIE 2008
A BLADE OF GRASS
Said a blade of grass to an autumn leaf, "You make such a noise falling! You scatter all my winter dreams."

Said the leaf indignant, "Low-born and low-dwelling! Songless, peevish thing! You live not in the upper air and you cannot tell the sound of singing."

Then the autumn leaf lay down upon the earth and slept. And when spring came she waked again -- and she was a blade of grass.

And when it was autumn and her winter sleep was upon her, and above her through all the air the leaves were falling, she muttered to herself, "O these autumn leaves! They make such a noise! They scatter all my winter dreams."

Autumn leaves scattered among blades of grass.


AUTUMN COOLNESS
Heat lingers
As days are still long;
Early mornings are cool
While autumn is still young.
Dew on the lotus
Scatters pure perfume;
Wind on the bamboos
Gives off a gentle tinkling.
I am idle and lonely,
Lying down all day,
Sick and decayed;
No one asks for me;
Thin dusk before my gates,
Cassia blossoms inch deep.

The scent of wisteria, Cymbidium, lotus blossom, and cassia buds drifting on a breeze through gently swaying bamboo reeds.


JOHN BARLEYCORN
There was three men come out o' the west their fortunes for to try,
And these three men made a solemn vow, John Barleycorn must die,
They plowed, they sowed, they harrowed him in, throwed clods upon his head,
And these three men made a solemn vow, John Barleycorn was dead.

Barley, beer, blood, and whiskey.


CHANT D'AUTOMNE
I
Bientôt nous plongerons dans les froides ténèbres;
Adieu, vive clarté de nos étés trop courts!
J'entends déjà tomber avec des chocs funèbres
Le bois retentissant sur le pavé des cours.

Tout l'hiver va rentrer dans mon être: colère,
Haine, frissons, horreur, labeur dur et forcé,
Et, comme le soleil dans son enfer polaire,
Mon coeur ne sera plus qu'un bloc rouge et glacé.

J'écoute en frémissant chaque bûche qui tombe
L'échafaud qu'on bâtit n'a pas d'écho plus sourd.
Mon esprit est pareil à la tour qui succombe
Sous les coups du bélier infatigable et lourd.

Il me semble, bercé par ce choc monotone,
Qu'on cloue en grande hâte un cercueil quelque part.
Pour qui? — C'était hier l'été; voici l'automne!
Ce bruit mystérieux sonne comme un départ.

II
J'aime de vos longs yeux la lumière verdâtre,
Douce beauté, mais tout aujourd'hui m'est amer,
Et rien, ni votre amour, ni le boudoir, ni l'âtre,
Ne me vaut le soleil rayonnant sur la mer.

Et pourtant aimez-moi, tendre coeur! soyez mère,
Même pour un ingrat, même pour un méchant;
Amante ou soeur, soyez la douceur éphémère
D'un glorieux automne ou d'un soleil couchant.

Courte tâche! La tombe attend; elle est avide!
Ah! laissez-moi, mon front posé sur vos genoux,
Goûter, en regrettant l'été blanc et torride,
De l'arrière-saison le rayon jaune et doux!

- - -

I
Soon we will sink in the frigid darkness
Good-bye, brightness of our too short summers!
I already hear the fall in distress
Of the wood falling in the paved courtyard.

Winter will invade my being: anger,
Hatred, chills, horror, hard and forced labor,
And, like the sun in its iced inferno,
My heart is but a red and frozen floe.

I hear with shudders each weak limb that falls.
The scaffold will have no louder echo.
My spirit is like a tower that yields
Under the tireless and heavy ram blow.

It seems, lulled by this monotonous sound,
Somewhere a coffin is hastily nailed,
For whom? Summer yesterday, autumn now!
This mysterious noise sounds like a farewell.

II
I love the greenish light of your long eyes,
Sweet beauty, but all is bitter today.
Nothing, not love, the boudoir or the hearth
Is dearer than the sunshine on the sea.

Still love me, tender heart! Be a mother
Even to the ingrate, to the wicked,
Lover, sister, ephemeral sweetness
Of fall's glory or of the setting sun.

Short-lived task! The tomb awaits, merciless.
Ah! Let me, my head resting on your knees,
Savor, regretting the white hot summer,
The autumn's last rays yellow and tender.

The scent of the year's fall and the setting sun, ominous and foreboding: dried leaves, charred wood, blood musk, amber, khus, and Nicotiana tabacum.


DAY OF THE SKULLS
In Bolivia, many people hold to the tradition of keeping the skulls of their ancestors with them in their homes, caring for their remains. It is believed that each person has seven souls, and one of those souls stays with the skull after death, enabling a spirit to grant protection and prophetic dreams to their descendants, and to bless their families with good health and prosperity.

The Bolivian Fiesta de las Ñatitas, or Dia de los Ñatitas, is a day of honor for these ancestors. Their skulls are dressed with fragrant blossoms, and offerings of cocoa leaves, alcohol, and cigarettes are made.

White sandalwood, beeswax, and frankincense crowned by hydrangea, rose, and kantuta blossoms, dressed with tobacco, cocoa leaves and flowers from the sacred Cactus of the Four Winds.


GRAVEYARD DIRT 2008
A tribute to a somewhat nefarious and truly notorious ingredient in New Orleans spellcrafting. It is employed in hoodoo rootwork for various reasons, primarily in spells of protection, "tricking" your enemies, binding, and even love magick. The graves are chosen based on the type of working, and are determined by the type of spirit that lies there and the manner of their demise. Payment is always required in the form of offerings to the deceased. This is the scent of pure graveyard dust, spattered with grave loam and dusted lightly with tombstone moss.


HUESOS DE SANTO
On All Saints Day, Spanish families visit their loved ones in the cemeteries, keeping vigil throughout the evening, saying prayers for the dead. Family burial plots are cleaned and tended, and graves are adorned with gladiolas, chrysanthemums, and roses. Bone-shaped pastries called Saint's Bones, or the Bones of the Holy, are baked and shared in honor of the souls in Purgatory, and to remind us of those who no longer share our repast, but with whom we one day hope to be reunited with again.

Orange-glazed cake, dotted with anise seed, and filled with custard, set beside a bouquet of celebratory funeral flowers.


MEDITATION IN AUTUMN
Withered vines, gnarled trees, twilight crows,
river flowing beneath the little bridge,
past someone's home.
The wind blows from the west
where the sun sets, it blows
across the ancient road,
across the bony horse
across the despairing man
who stands at heaven's edge.

A desolate scent, dusty, bleak, and withered: old wood, burnt brown sandalwood, and twisted vines.


MICTECACIHUATL
Known as the Mistress of Bones and the Lady of the Dead, she is the Queen of Mictlan, the Aztec Underworld, who still presides over today's Day of the Dead rituals. Sometimes known now as La Huesuda, she brings peace and joy to the spirits of the deceased, and blesses the living who do honor to those who have passed before them.

Copal, precious woods, South American spices, agave nectar, cigar tobacco, and roses.


SAMHAIN 2008
Truly the scent of autumn itself -- damp woods, fir needle, and black patchouli with the gentlest touches of warm pumpkin, clove, nutmeg, allspice, sweet red apple and mullein.


STICKY PILLOWCASE
Terminal sugar rush. A little goblin's candy bag, upended.

Smushed candy corn, rock candy dust, marshmallow gunk, strawberry goo, spun blue sugar, globs of salt water taffy, and lint.


SUGAR SKULL 2008
Vibrant with the joy and sweetness of life in death! A blend of five sugars, lightly dusted with candied fruits.


TO AUTUMN
Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
        Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
        With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;
To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees,
        And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
                To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
        With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
                For summer has o'er-brimm'd their clammy cells.

Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
        Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
        Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep,
        Drows'd with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
                Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers:
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
        Steady thy laden head across a brook;
        Or by a cyder-press, with patient look,
                Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours.

Where are the songs of spring? Ay, where are they?
        Think not of them, thou hast thy music too, -
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
        And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
        Among the river sallows, borne aloft
                Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
        Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
        The red-breat whistles from a garden-croft;
                And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.

Mist and mellow fruitfulness: mist-swirled, moss-covered bark and dry red leaves, apple pulp and knotty galangal, with poppy juice and nutmeat.



++ PUMPKIN PATCH

The 'Patch is back, with five new pumpkin blends to choose from. Pick individual pumpkins from the field, or snatch up the whole bushel!

PUMPKIN I
Pumpkin with mango, persimmon, coconut, and myrrh.

PUMPKIN II
Pumpkin with black musk, leather accord, tonka, teak, orange wood, and opoponax.

PUMPKIN III
Pumpkin with pink grapefruit, lemon verbena, yuzu, lime, parsley, and mint.

PUMPKIN IV
Pumpkin with white sage, cherry tobacco, honey, smoky vanilla, cedar, and pine.

PUMPKIN V
Pumpkin with cranberry, strawberry, red musk, red rose, rosehip, frankincense, fig, jasmine, and carnation.


PUMPKIN PLUNDER
If you purchase Pumpkin Plunder, you will receive an imp of Needle in a Haystack: a scent created to compliment and complete the collection.

Needle in a Haystack
Hay absolute, sun-baked pumpkin rind, twisting vines, and the tiniest sparkle of gleaming metal.


Label artwork for the Halloweenies, Pumpkin Patch, and Hellhound by our beloved Jennifer Williamson!



But wait! - there's more!

This autumn, we are paying a visit to the quiet eastern shore of the Hudson River with a Limited Edition subseries inspired by the Legend of Sleepy Hollow by Washington Irving:



++ SLEEPY HOLLOW
BROM BONES
Among these the most formidable was a burly, roaring, roystering blade, of the name of Abraham, or, according to the Dutch abbreviation, Brom Van Brunt, the hero of the country round, which rang with his feats of strength and hardihood. He was broad-shouldered and double-jointed, with short curly black hair, and a bluff, but not unpleasant countenance, having a mingled air of fun and arrogance. From his Herculean frame and great powers of limb, he had received the nickname of BROM BONES, by which he was universally known. He was famed for great knowledge and skill in horsemanship, being as dexterous on horseback as a Tartar.

He was foremost at all races and cock-fights; and, with the ascendancy which bodily strength acquires in rustic life, was the umpire in all disputes, setting his hat on one side, and giving his decisions with an air and tone admitting of no gainsay or appeal. He was always ready for either a fight or a frolic; but had more mischief than ill-will in his composition; and, with all his overbearing roughness, there was a strong dash of waggish good humor at bottom. He had three or four boon companions, who regarded him as their model, and at the head of whom he scoured the country, attending every scene of feud or merriment for miles round. In cold weather he was distinguished by a fur cap, surmounted with a flaunting fox's tail; and when the folks at a country gathering descried this well-known crest at a distance, whisking about among a squad of hard riders, they always stood by for a squall. Sometimes his crew would be heard dashing along past the farmhouses at midnight, with whoop and halloo, like a troop of Don Cossacks; and the old dames, startled out of their sleep, would listen for a moment till the hurry-scurry had clattered by, and then exclaim, "Ay, there goes Brom Bones and his gang!" The neighbors looked upon him with a mixture of awe, admiration, and good will; and when any madcap prank, or rustic brawl, occurred in the vicinity, always shook their heads, and warranted Brom Bones was at the bottom of it.

The butchest, manliest of musks covered in well-worn leather.


THE CHURCHYARD
The sequestered situation of this church seems always to have made it a favorite haunt of troubled spirits. It stands on a knoll, surrounded by locust-trees and lofty elms, from among which its decent whitewashed walls shine modestly forth, like Christian purity beaming through the shades of retirement. A gentle slope descends from it to a silver sheet of water, bordered by high trees, between which, peeps may be caught at the blue hills of the Hudson. To look upon its grass-grown yard, where the sunbeams seem to sleep so quietly, one would think that there at least the dead might rest in peace. On one side of the church extends a wide woody dell, along which raves a large brook among broken rocks and trunks of fallen trees. Over a deep black part of the stream, not far from the church, was formerly thrown a wooden bridge; the road that led to it, and the bridge itself, were thickly shaded by overhanging trees, which cast a gloom about it, even in the daytime; but occasioned a fearful darkness at night. This was one of the favorite haunts of the headless horseman; and the place where he was most frequently encountered.

Overgrown dark green bullrush, midnight roses, dwarf St. John's Wort, frankincense, blackberry leaf, and moss-covered, half-buried tree bark.


ICHABOD CRANE
The cognomen of Crane was not inapplicable to his person. He was tall, but exceedingly lank, with narrow shoulders, long arms and legs, hands that dangled a mile out of his sleeves, feet that might have served for shovels, and his whole frame most loosely hung together. His head was small, and flat at top, with huge ears, large green glassy eyes, and a long snipe nose, so that it looked like a weather-cock, perched upon his spindle neck, to tell which way the wind blew. To see him striding along the profile of a hill on a windy day, with his clothes bagging and fluttering about him one might have mistaken him for the genius of famine descending upon the earth, or some scarecrow eloped from a cornfield.

. . .

From his half itinerant life, also, he was a kind of travelling gazette, carrying the whole budget of local gossip from house to house; so that his appearance was always greeted with satisfaction. He was, moreover, esteemed by the women as a man of great erudition, for he had read several books quite through, and was a perfect master of Cotton Mather's history of New England Witchcraft, in which, by the way, he most firmly and potently believed.

He was, in fact, an odd mixture of small shrewdness and simple credulity. His appetite for the marvellous, and his powers of digesting it, were equally extraordinary; and both had been increased by his residence in this spellbound region. No tale was too gross or monstrous for his capacious swallow. It was often his delight, after his school was dismissed in the afternoon, to stretch himself on the rich bed of clover, bordering the little brook that whimpered by his school-house, and there con over old Mather's direful tales, until the gathering dusk of the evening made the printed page a mere mist before his eyes. Then, as he wended his way, by swamp and stream and awful woodland, to the farmhouse where he happened to be quartered, every sound of nature, at that witching hour, fluttered his excited imagination: the moan of the whip-poor-will from the hill-side; the boding cry of the tree-toad, that harbinger of storm; the dreary hooting of the screech-owl, or the sudden rustling in the thicket of birds frightened from their roost. The fire-flies, too, which sparkled most vividly in the darkest places, now and then startled him, as one of uncommon brightness would stream across his path; and if, by chance, a huge blockhead of a beetle came winging his blundering flight against him, the poor varlet was ready to give up the ghost, with the idea that he was struck with a witch's token. His only resource on such occasions, either to drown thought, or drive away evil spirits, was to sing psalm tunes;-and the good people of Sleepy Hollow, as they sat by their doors of an evening, were often filled with awe, at hearing his nasal melody, "in linked sweetness long drawn out," floating from the distant hill, or along the dusky road.

Dusty black wool, tea with cream, black pepper, muguet, and beeswax candle drippings.


FEARFUL PLEASURE
Another of his sources of fearful pleasure was, to pass long winter evenings with the old Dutch wives, as they sat spinning by the fire, with a row of apples roasting and spluttering along the hearth, and listen to their marvellous tales of ghosts and goblins, and haunted fields, and haunted brooks, and haunted bridges, and haunted houses, and particularly of the headless horseman, or galloping Hessian of the Hollow, as they sometimes called him. He would delight them equally by his anecdotes of witchcraft, and of the direful omens and portentous sights and sounds in the air, which prevailed in the earlier times of Connecticut; and would frighten them woefully with speculations upon comets and shooting stars; and with the alarming fact that the world did absolutely turn round, and that they were half the time topsy-turvy!

Dried orange peels floating in simmering cider, roasted apples, smoldering firewood, chimney smoke, sassafras beer, warm hawthorn wood, and oakmoss.


THE GOBLIN RIDER
In the dark shadow of the grove, on the margin of the brook, he beheld something huge, misshapen, black and towering. It stirred not, but seemed gathered up in the gloom, like some gigantic monster ready to spring upon the traveller.

The hair of the affrighted pedagogue rose upon his head with terror. What was to be done? To turn and fly was now too late; and besides, what chance was there of escaping ghost or goblin, if such it was, which could ride upon the wings of the wind? Summoning up, therefore, a show of courage, he demanded in stammering accents-"Who are you?" He received no reply. He repeated his demand in a still more agitated voice. Still there was no answer. Once more he cudgelled the sides of the inflexible Gunpowder, and, shutting his eyes, broke forth with involuntary fervor into a psalm tune. Just then the shadowy object of alarm put itself in motion, and, with a scramble and a bound, stood at once in the middle of the road. Though the night was dark and dismal, yet the form of the unknown might now in some degree be ascertained. He appeared to be a horseman of large dimensions, and mounted on a black horse of powerful frame. He made no offer of molestation or sociability, but kept aloof on one side of the road, jogging along on the blind side of old Gunpowder, who had now got over his fright and waywardness.

Ichabod, who had no relish for this strange midnight companion, and bethought himself of the adventure of Brom Bones with the Galloping Hessian, now quickened his steed, in hopes of leaving him behind. The stranger, however, quickened his horse to an equal pace. Ichabod pulled up, and fell into a walk, thinking to lag behind-the other did the same. His heart began to sink within him; he endeavored to resume his psalm tune, but his parched tongue clove to the roof of his mouth, and he could not utter a stave. There was something in the moody and dogged silence of this pertinacious companion, that was mysterious and appalling. It was soon fearfully accounted for. On mounting a rising ground, which brought the figure of his fellow-traveller in relief against the sky, gigantic in height, and muffled in a cloak, Ichabod was horror-struck, on perceiving that he was headless!-but his horror was still more increased, on observing that the head, which should have rested on his shoulders, was carried before him on the pommel of the saddle; his terror rose to desperation; he rained a shower of kicks and blows upon Gunpowder; hoping, by a sudden movement, to give his companion the slip-but the spectre started full jump with him. Away then they dashed, through thick and thin; stones flying, and sparks flashing at every bound. Ichabod's flimsy garments fluttered in the air, as he stretched his long lanky body away over his horse's head, in the eagerness of his flight.

The scent of fear, and terrifying pursuit: wind-whipped, chilly night air, oppressive black pine, globs of dark opopponax, and bleak cedar, and distant, unreachable church incense.


GUNPOWDER
That he might make his appearance before his mistress in the true style of a cavalier, he borrowed a horse from the farmer with whom he was domiciliated, a choleric old Dutchman, of the name of Hans Van Ripper, and, thus gallantly mounted, issued forth, like a knight-errant in quest of adventures. But it is meet I should, in the true spirit of romantic story, give some account of the looks and equipments of my hero and his steed. The animal he bestrode was a broken-down plough-horse, that had outlived almost every thing but his viciousness. He was gaunt and shagged, with a ewe neck and a head like a hammer; his rusty mane and tail were tangled and knotted with burrs; one eye had lost its pupil, and was glaring and spectral; but the other had the gleam of a genuine devil in it. Still he must have had fire and mettle in his day, if we may judge from the name he bore of Gunpowder. He had, in fact, been a favorite steed of his master's, the choleric Van Ripper, who was a furious rider, and had infused, very probably, some of his own spirit into the animal; for, old and broken-down as he looked, there was more of the lurking devil in him than in any young filly in the country.

Carrot peelings, hay, chaff, molasses, maple oats, red apples, stable wood, and musk.


THE HESSIAN OF THE HOLLOW
The dominant spirit, however, that haunts this enchanted region, and seems to be commander-in-chief of all the powers of the air, is the apparition of a figure on horseback without a head. It is said by some to be the ghost of a Hessian trooper, whose head had been carried away by a cannon-ball, in some nameless battle during the revolutionary war; and who is ever and anon seen by the country folk hurrying along in the gloom of night, as if on the wings of the wind. His haunts are not confined to the valley, but extend at times to the adjacent roads, and especially to the vicinity of a church at no great distance. Indeed, certain of the most authentic historians of those parts, who have been careful in collecting and collating the floating facts concerning this spectre, allege that the body of the trooper, having been buried in the church-yard, the ghost rides forth to the scene of battle in nightly quest of his head; and that the rushing speed with which he sometimes passes along the Hollow, like a midnight blast, is owing to his being belated, and in a hurry to get back to the church-yard before daybreak.

Such is the general purport of this legendary superstition, which has furnished materials for many a wild story in that region of shadows; and the spectre is known, at all the country firesides, by the name of the Headless Horseman of Sleepy Hollow.

Grave moss and bone-white sandalwood, with vetiver, gunpowder, artillery shrapnel, and blood.


THE SCHOOL-HOUSE
His school-house was a low building of one large room, rudely constructed of logs; the windows partly glazed, and partly patched with leaves of old copy-books. It was most ingeniously secured at vacant hours, by a withe twisted in the handle of the door, and stakes set against the window shutters; so that, though a thief might get in with perfect ease, he would find some embarrassment in getting out; an idea most probably borrowed by the architect, Yost Van Houton, from the mystery of an eel-pot. The school-house stood in a rather lonely but pleasant situation just at the foot of a woody hill, with a brook running close by, and a formidable birch tree growing at one end of it. From hence the low murmur of his pupils' voices, conning over their lessons, might be heard in a drowsy summer's day, like the hum of a bee-hive; interrupted now and then by the authoritative voice of the master, in the tone of menace or command; or, peradventure, by the appalling sound of the birch, as he urged some tardy loiterer along the flowery path of knowledge.

Dandelion, white clover, balsam fir logs, and birchwood switches.


THE SHATTERED PUMPKIN
The next morning the old horse was found without his saddle, and with the bridle under his feet, soberly cropping the grass at his master's gate. Ichabod did not make his appearance at breakfast-dinner-hour came, but no Ichabod. The boys assembled at the schoolhouse, and strolled idly about the banks of the brook; but no school-master. Hans Van Ripper now began to feel some uneasiness about the fate of poor Ichabod, and his saddle. An inquiry was set on foot, and after diligent investigation they came upon his traces. In one part of the road leading to the church was found the saddle trampled in the dirt; the tracks of horses' hoofs deeply dented in the road, and evidently at furious speed, were traced to the bridge, beyond which, on the bank of a broad part of the brook, where the water ran deep and black, was found the hat of the unfortunate Ichabod, and close beside it a shattered pumpkin.

Soil-covered crushed pumpkin, water-weeds, saddle-leather, and pine pitch.


KATRINA VAN TASSEL
and though he had seen many spectres in his time, and been more than once beset by Satan in divers shapes, in his lonely perambulations, yet daylight put an end to all these evils; and he would have passed a pleasant life of it, in despite of the devil and all his works, if his path had not been crossed by a being that causes more perplexity to mortal man than ghosts, goblins, and the whole race of witches put together, and that was-a woman.

Among the musical disciples who assembled, one evening in each week, to receive his instructions in psalmody, was Katrina Van Tassel, the daughter and only child of a substantial Dutch farmer. She was a blooming lass of fresh eighteen; plump as a partridge; ripe and melting and rosy cheeked as one of her father's peaches, and universally famed, not merely for her beauty, but her vast expectations. She was withal a little of a coquette, as might be perceived even in her dress, which was a mixture of ancient and modern fashions, as most suited to set off her charms. She wore the ornaments of pure yellow gold, which her great-great-grandmother had brought over from Saardam, the tempting stomacher of the olden time; and withal a provokingly short petticoat, to display the prettiest foot and ankle in the country round.

White rose and honeyed cream.


WILEY'S SWAMP
A few rough logs, laid side by side, served for a bridge over this stream. On that side of the road where the brook entered the wood, a group of oaks and chestnuts, matted thick with wild grapevines, threw a cavernous gloom over it. To pass this bridge was the severest trial. It was at this identical spot that the unfortunate André was captured, and under the covert of those chestnuts and vines were the sturdy yeomen concealed who surprised him. This has ever since been considered a haunted stream, and fearful are the feelings of the schoolboy who has to pass it alone after dark.

Water-logged and rotting wood, fallen chestnuts, oak leaf, bog laurel, and Virginia creeper.


THE WITCHING TIME OF NIGHT
It was the very witching time of night that Ichabod, heavy-hearted and crest-fallen, pursued his travel homewards, along the sides of the lofty hills which rise above Tarry Town, and which he had traversed so cheerily in the afternoon. The hour was dismal as himself. Far below him, the Tappan Zee spread its dusky and indistinct waste of waters, with here and there the tall mast of a sloop, riding quietly at anchor under the land. In the dead hush of midnight, he could even hear the barking of the watch dog from the opposite shore of the Hudson; but it was so vague and faint as only to give an idea of his distance from this faithful companion of man. Now and then, too, the long-drawn crowing of a cock, accidentally awakened, would sound far, far off from some farmhouse away among the hills-but it was like a dreaming sound in his ear. No signs of life occurred near him, but occasionally the melancholy chirp of a cricket, or perhaps the guttural twang of a bull-frog, from a neighboring marsh, as if sleeping uncomfortably, and turning suddenly in his bed.

Moonflower, night-blooming cereus, white hellebore, English ivy, monkshood, angel's trumpet, oleander, and eastern hemlock.



Artwork for the Sleepy Hollow series created by the newest member of the Black Phoenix family, Jennifer Rodgers!


Harvest Moon, Hellhound on My Trail, and the Black Moons are $17.50 each, and CT:4 is $15 per bottle. Harvest Moon, the Black Moons, Hellhound, and Chaos bottles will be available until August 18, 2008.


The Sleepy Hollow, Pumpkin Patch, and Halloweenies are $17.50 each, and Pumpkin Plunder is available for $85. Sleepy Hollow, the Pumpkin Patch, and the Halloweenies will be available until November 15, 2008.


Meanwhile, at Black Phoenix Trading Post

A new tee has been added to the General Catalogue's commemorative collection... Dia de los Muertos!



Bone-white, pumpkin orange, and arterial-spray red shimmer ink on black tee. The inks on this tee are a contrast of flat and shimmer. The finer lines on the tee are done in flat ink.

Please note: the artwork is deliberately distressed for an 'aged' feel.

Artwork for both Harvest Moon and Dia de los Muertos by the phenomenal Jennifer Williamson!


Also new at the 'Post - FOOT SCRUBS!

These invigorating, softening foot scrubs were created with the finest environmentally-responsible and body-friendly ingredients. They are vegan, and are contain no harsh chemicals or unwholesome fillers. Our scrubs are paraben and formaldehyde free, and do not contain sodium lauryl or sodium laureth sulfate, and our labels are printed on an Earth-friendly corn biopolymer.

Our foot scrubs exfoliate gently, and soften your skin beautifully. They leave your feet polished without feeling abused.

As always, no animals were harmed during the creation of this product, and all products were tested on friends and family.

These foot scrubs were created by Michelle Groff of Nail Polish, Etc, so you know your feet are in good hands! Scents by Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab!


DE RØDE SKO
Do your feet feel like they've been cursed? Don't chop them off! Soothe your tired, aching toes with our warming, stimulating scrub!

Red ginger, sweet orange, black pepper, clove, and cardamom.


OLWEN
You, too, can have flowers blossoming under your feet!

Peppermint, vanilla, sandalwood, honey, and carnation.


TALARIA
A dollop of our invigorating, refreshing foot scrub will leave you dancing on air like you're wearing winged sandals!

Peppermint, lemon, and neroli.



For a limited time, Black Phoenix Trading Post is offering a series of spooky seasonal Atmosphere and Linen sprays

ALL HALLOW'S EVE
'Tis now the very witching time of night,
When churchyards yawn and hell itself breathes out
Contagion to this world.


Balsam fir needle, dry leaves, cedar, clove, and black patchouli.


BONFIRE NIGHT
Guy Fawkes, Guy;
Stick him up on high!
Hang him on a lamp post
And there let him die!
Guy, Guy, Guy!
Poke Him in the eye!
Put him on the fire,
And there let him die!
Burn his body from his head:
Then you'll say
Guy Fawkes is dead!
Hip, Hip, Hooray!


Beer, woodsmoke, tar, and treacle.


GOOEY PILLOWCASE
Lumps of pumpkin fudge, marshmallow glop, cookie crumbs, caramel smears, and bits of sticky fuzz.


SAMHAIN
Truly the scent of autumn itself -- damp woods, fir needle, and black patchouli with the gentlest touches of warm pumpkin, clove, nutmeg, allspice, sweet red apple and mullein.


SUGAR SKULL
Vibrant with the joy and sweetness of life in death! A blend of five sugars, lightly dusted with candied fruits.



And one spray that is part of the Black Phoenix Sleepy Hollow series:

MAJOR ANDRE'S TREE
All the stories of ghosts and goblins that he had heard in the afternoon, now came crowding upon his recollection. The night grew darker and darker; the stars seemed to sink deeper in the sky, and driving clouds occasionally hid them from his sight. He had never felt so lonely and dismal. He was, moreover, approaching the very place where many of the scenes of the ghost stories had been laid. In the centre of the road stood an enormous tulip-tree, which towered like a giant above all the other trees of the neighborhood, and formed a kind of landmark. Its limbs were gnarled, and fantastic, large enough to form trunks for ordinary trees, twisting down almost to the earth, and rising again into the air.

It was connected with the tragical story of the unfortunate André, who had been taken prisoner hard by; and was universally known by the name of Major André's tree. The common people regarded it with a mixture of respect and superstition, partly out of sympathy for the fate of its ill-starred namesake, and partly from the tales of strange sights and doleful lamentations told concerning it.

As Ichabod approached this fearful tree, he began to whistle: he thought his whistle was answered-it was but a blast sweeping sharply through the dry branches. As he approached a little nearer, he thought he saw something white, hanging in the midst of the tree-he paused and ceased whistling; but on looking more narrowly, perceived that it was a place where the tree had been scathed by lightning, and the white wood laid bare. Suddenly he heard a groan-his teeth chattered and his knees smote against the saddle: it was but the rubbing of one huge bough upon another, as they were swayed about by the breeze. He passed the tree in safety, but new perils lay before him.


The gnarled boughs of a gargantuan, moss-caked, ancient tulip-tree, dangling dead leaves and dripping with browning vines.


These sprays are $25 per 4oz bottle, and will be live until 15 November 2008. No goblin squirts are available for the seasonal sprays.


And that, my friends, is it for now!



From the 16 July 2008 update:

What is the Lunacy this month, you ask? Why, its

STURGEON MOON
A month of bounty, when the fish are plentiful and the corn grows high. This is the scent of breezes passing over the Great Lakes, mingling gently with traditional lunar herbs.

Sandy shores and sweet fresh water, lichen, green algae, and whitestem pondweed, with benzoin, cyclamen, moonlit musk, cucumber, blue poppy, and agave.


Sturgeon Moon is also live at Black Phoenix Trading Post! Artwork by Jennifer Williamson.



No fishes were harmed in the making of these products, and no, Sturgeon Moon does not smell like fishguts or roe! Hee!


Also in the LE section this month

PENUMBRA
The observer's space within a partial eclipse.

Rich purple musk, moonflower, red sandalwood, black amber, oakmoss, copal, lavender, neroli, tobacco, and pomegranate.


Sturgeon Moon and Penumbra are $17.50 per bottle, and will be live until July 20, 2008.


Also live this month (insert dramatic pause and drumroll here, for its been two years since our last one!)

CHAOS THEORY IV: EDGE OF CHAOS
Each bottle of Chaos Theory is truly unique, a fragrant fractal, and exercise in the joy of chance and uncertainty! Each is a one-of-a-kind, utterly random combination of scents, the composition of which is based on whim, mood and gut instinct.

Most common allergens have been omitted from the experiment. No pennyroyal, no nuts, no cinnamon, no cassia. Regardless, if you have any sensitivities, please do not participate in Chaos Theory. The contents of the oils are not recorded [that's the whole point!] and we will not be able to answer questions about specific bottles of CT4 or guarantee that an allergen is not present in your order.

By purchasing CT:4, you agree to absolve Black Phoenix of any responsibility related to an allergic reaction to one of the oils in this series.

Please make a responsible choice, and use caution and discretion when ordering. This is intended to be a fun, exciting project. Please bear in mind that all Black Phoenix oils are made in an environment that contains nuts, both literally and figuratively.


The Chaos blends were created by both myself and Mister Constantine, with a handful contributed by Teddy, so you get an extra dose of chaos!

Sturgeon Moon and Penumbra are $17.50 per bottle, and will be live until July 20, 2008. CT:4 is $15 per bottle, and will be live until August 18, 2008.


The long-awaited Snow, Glass, Apples perfume will be making its debut at San Diego Comic Con! The SGA package includes Neil Gaiman's short story in chapbook format, beautifully illustrated by Julie Dillon, and a 5ml bottle of perfume inspired by the tale. This set is a limited run of 1000. 250 will be sold by CBLDF at Comic Con 2008, and the remainder will go on sale July 30, 2008 on the Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab web site and will be available as long as supplies last. All profits from the sales of this set go to the Comic Book Legal Defense Fund!


The next act of Carnaval will be coming soon, and, as is BPAL tradition, the Halloween scents will be going live in August!



From the 17 June 2008 update:

Two summer moons are rising in the summer sky! - you have your faithful narrator's pregnancy psychosis to thank for it! Heh! I'll spare you the long-winded Piscean Fish Story behind it, suffice to say that my progesterone-pumped whacko'ness made one moon, forgot about it, and made another. Someone needs more sleep!

For your pleasure:

The moon was but a chin of gold
   A night or two ago,
And now she turns her perfect face
   Upon the world below.

Her forehead is of amplest blond;
  Her cheek like beryl stone;
Her eye unto the summer dew
  The likest I have known.

Her lips of amber never part;
   But what must be the smile
Upon her friend she could bestow
   Were such her silver will!

And what a privilege to be
   But the remotest star!
For certainly her way might pass
   Beside your twinkling door.

Her bonnet is the firmament,
   The universe her shoe,
The stars the trinkets at her belt,
   Her dimities of blue.

HAY MOON
Hay absolute, tall grasses, dry honey, mallow, cardamom, amber, and wheat.

MEAD MOON
Golden mead, fermented with gruit, nutmeg, clove, cinnamon, ginger root, sweet-briar, rosemary, and lemon.


Hay Moon and Mead Moon are also live at Black Phoenix Trading Post! Artwork courtesy of our beloved Jennifer Williamson.





Hay and Mead will be live at both sites until June 20, 2008.





From the Friday the 13th update:

13 is live at Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab and the Four Seasons Inquest is live at Black Phoenix Trading Post!

A portion of the sales from BPAL's 13 and the Four Seasons Inquest will benefit the Wildlife Waystation. Due to county issues and the current economic climate, the Wildlife Waystation is currently unable to help itself the way it normally would with tours and public events. With operation costs climbing and donations dipping, its getting harder and harder for them to keep going. They're good people that do good work, caring and sheltering 400+ animals, and we want to do what we can to help.



From the 18 May 2008 update:

Dyan Moon is live at BPAL and BPTP!

DYAN MOON
Queen and huntress, chaste and fair,
Now the sun is laid to sleep,
Seated in thy silver chair,
State in wonted manner keep:
Hesperus entreats thy light,
Goddess excellently bright.

Earth, let not thy envious shade
Dare itself to interpose;
Cynthia's shining orb was made
Heaven to clear when day did close:
Bless us then with wishèd sight,
Goddess excellently bright.

Lay thy bow of pearl apart,
And thy crystal-shining quiver;
Give unto the flying hart
Space to breathe, how short soever;
Thou that mak'st a day of night,
Goddess excellently bright.

The essence of the pure, unsullied virgin moon and of the huntress that stalks her prey by the moon's light: amaranth, musk rose, juniper, chaste tree, sweet bay, chamomile, rose mallow, Madonna lily, blue musk, wisteria, and iris.

And... whaddya know?! -- Acts IV and V of Carnaval Diabolique are live, too!

Praise, love, and adoration for Jennifer Williamson for doodling Act IV and Act IV: the Ladies of the Grindhouse, and to Alicia Dabney for doodling Act V. Thank you, ladies, for helping us bring the Carnaval to life!



From the 18 April 2008 update:

Holy moly, there's a lot going on at BPAL this month!

There are new Neil and Terry-inspired scents all across the board!

++ GOOD OMENS
THE BUGGRE ALLE THIS BIBLE
The book was commonly known as the Buggre Alle This Bible. The lengthy compositor's error, if such it may be called, occurs in the book of Ezekiel, chapter 48, verse five:

2. And bye the border of Dan, fromme the east side to the west side, a portion for Afher.
3. And bye the border of Afhter, fromme the east side even untoe the west side, a portion for Naphtali.
4. And bye the border of Naphtali, from the east side untoe the west side, a portion for Manaffeh.
5. Buggre all this for a Larke. I amme sick to mye Hart of typefettinge. Master Biltonn if no Gentelmann, and Master Scagges noe more than a tighte fisted Southwarke Knobbefticke. I telle you, onne a daye laike thif Ennywone half an oz. of Sense should bee oute in the Sunneshain, ane nott Stucke here alle the liuelong daie inn thif mowldey olde By-Our-Lady Workefhoppe. @*"AE@;!*
6. And bye the border of Ephraim, from the east fide even untoe the west fide, a portion for Reuben.

[The Buggre Alle This Bible was also noteworthy for having twenty seven verses in the third chapter of Genesis, instead of the more usual twenty four.

They followed verse 24, which in the King James version reads:

"So he drove out the man; and he placed at the east of the garden of Eden Cherubims, and a flaming sword which turned every way, to keep the way of the tree of life," and read:

25 And the Lord spake unto the Angel that guarded the eastern gate, saying Where is the flaming sword which was given unto thee?
26 And the Angel said, I had it here only a moment ago, I must have put it down some where, forget my own head next.
27 And the Lord did not ask him again.

It appears that these verses were inserted during the proof stage. In those days it was common practice for printers to hang proof sheets to the wooden beams outside their shops, for the edification of the populace and some free proofreading, and since the whole print run was subsequently burned anyway, no one bothered to take up this matter with the nice Mr. A. Ziraphale, who ran the bookshop two doors along and was always so helpful with the translations, and whose handwriting was instantly recognizable.]

Crumbling paper and ancient cracked leather with a touch of tobacco leaf and incense.


JASMINE COTTAGE
She'd rented the cottage furnished, which meant that the actual furniture was the special sort you find in these circumstances and had probably been left out for the dustmen by the local War on Want shop. It didn't matter. She didn't expect to be here long.

If Agnes was right, she wouldn't be anywhere long. Nor would anyone else.

Camellia, jasmine, heather, orange blossom, osmanthus, wisteria, thyme, angelica, freesia, granny's nightcap, and English wildflowers.


NANNY ASHTORETH
She wore a knit tweed suit and discreet pearl earrings. Something about her might have said nanny, but it said it in an undertone of the sort employed by British butlers in a certain type of American film. It also coughed discreetly and muttered that she could well be the sort of nanny who advertises unspecified but strangely explicit services in certain magazines.

Middle Eastern flowers, amber, honey, blood red-berries, whip leather, and polished paddle wood.


PEPPER
She herself had short red hair and a face which was not so much freckled as one big freckle with occasional areas of skin.

Pepper's given first names were Pippin Galadriel Moonchild. She had been given them in a naming ceremony in a muddy valley field that contained three sick sheep and a number of leaky polythene teepees. Her mother had chosen the Welsh valley of Pant y Gyrdl as the ideal site to Return to Nature. (Six months later, sick of the rain, the mosquitoes, the men, the tent trampling sheep who ate first the whole commune's marijuana crop and then its antique minibus, and by now beginning to glimpse why almost the entire drive of human history has been an attempt to get as far away from Nature as possible, Pepper's mother returned to Pepper's surprised grandparents in Tadfield, bought a bra, and enrolled in a sociology course with a deep sigh of relief.)

There are only two ways a child can go with a name like Pippin Galadriel Moonchild, and Pepper had chosen the other one: the three male Them had learned this on their first day of school, in the playground, at the age of four.

They had asked her her name, and, all innocent, she had told them.

Subsequently a bucket of water had been needed to separate Pippin Galadriel Moonchild's teeth from Adam's shoe. Wensleydale's first pair of spectacles had been broken, and Brian's sweater needed five stitches.

The Them were together from then on, and Pepper was Pepper forever, except to her mother, and (when they were feeling especially courageous, and the Them were almost out of earshot) Greasy Johnson and the Johnsonites, the village's only other gang.

Wild English roses, French gardenia, vanilla, honey, golden ginger, blood orange, tuberose, bergamot, and geranium.


WENSLEYDALE
"My father says there's no such thing as witches," said Wensleydale, who had fair, wavy hair, and peered seriously out at life through thick black rimmed spectacles. It was widely believed that he had once been christened Jeremy, but no one ever used the name, not even his parents, who called him Youngster. They did this in the subconscious hope that he might take the hint; Wensleydale gave the impression of having been born with a mental age of forty seven.

An immaculately clean scent: well-scrubbed soapy skin and fresh cotton.


++ AMERICAN GODS
THE IFRIT
The taxi driver comes out of the shower, wet, with a towel wrapped around his midsection. He is not wearing his sunglasses, and in the dim room his eyes burn with scarlet flames.

Salim blinks back tears. "I wish you could see what I see," he says.

"I do not grant wishes," whispers the ifrit, dropping his towel and pushing Salim gently, but irresistibly, down onto the bed.

Desert sand, red musk, blackened ginger, dragon's blood resin, black pepper, cinnamon, and tobacco.


THE NORNS' FARMHOUSE
The farmhouse was dark and shut up. The meadows were overgrown and seemed abandoned. The farm roof was crumbling at the back; it was covered in black plastic sheeting. They jolted over a ridge and Shadow saw it there.

It was silver-gray and it was higher than the farm-house. It was the most beautiful tree Shadow had ever seen: spectral and yet utterly real and almost perfectly symmetrical. It also looked instantly familiar: he wondered if he had dreamed it, then he realized that no, he had seen it before, or a representation of it man, many times. It was Wednesday's silver tie pin.

The VW bus jolted and bumped across the meadow, and it came to a stop about twenty feet from the trunk of the tree.

There were three women standing by the tree. At first glance Shadow thought they were the Zorya, but no, they were three women he did not know. They looked tired and bored, as if they had been standing there a long time. Each of them held a wooden ladder. The biggest also carried a brown sack. They looked like a set of Russian dolls: a tall one - she was Shadow's height, or even taller - a middle-sized one, and a woman so short and hunched that at first glance Shadow wrongly supposed her to be a child. They looked so much alike that Shadow was certain the women must be sisters.

The smallest of the women dropped to a curtsey when the bus drew up. The other two just stared. They were sharing a cigarette, and they smoked it down to the filter before one of them stubbed it out against a root.

Dusty, ancient wood, horehound, and sage, with viper's bugloss, mugwort, chamomile, nettle, apple blossom, chervil, and ashes.


++ STARDUST
THE EAST
But there were times when the wind blew from beyond the wall, bringing with it the smell of mint and thyme and redcurrants, and at those times there were strange colors seen in the flames in the fireplaces in the village.

The scent of the winds beyond the wall: bluebonnet, passion flower, freesia, jasmine tea, mint, thyme, and redcurrant.


THE STORMHOLD
The Stormhold had been carved out of the peak of Mount Huon by the first lord of Stormhold, who reigned at the end of the First Age and into the beginning of the Second. It had been expanded, improved upon, excavated and tunneled into by successive Masters of Stormhold, until the original mountain peak now raked the sky like the ornately carved tusk of some great, grey, granite beast. The Stormhold itself was perched high in the sky, where the thunder clouds gathered before they went down to the lower air, spilling rain and lightning and devastation upon the place beneath.

Creeping moss, slick granite, murky vetiver, lightning-charged ozone, and icy rain.



As always, this is a not-for-profit project, and all proceeds from the American Gods and Stardust scents go to the CBLDF, and the proceeds from the Good Omens scents are split between the CBLDF and the Orangutan Foundation UK. We love you, Neil and Terry! Thank you!!!



Next up, we have the Loon'acy --

++ A LITTLE LUNACY
DRAGON MOON 2008
In some cultures, the Dragon is benevolent, bestowing blessings and granting wishes. In others, the Dragon is an icon of destruction and harbinger of catastrophe. In all its incarnations, both baneful and benign, the Dragon is a symbol of strength, authority, and the raw power of nature. Our Dragon Moon represents the forces of rebirth and the vigor that springtime brings: dragon's blood resin, galbanum, blue sage, lavender, peppermint, sweetgrass, frankincense, moonglow magnolia, bergamot, and green cedar.


Dragon Moon is also live at Black Phoenix Trading Post



Artwork by Jennifer Williamson!

Dragon Moon will come down from both sites on 22 April 2008 along with the Atomic Luau Lounge!


We are thrilled to present a pair of long-awaited additions to the general catalogue:

++ DOC CONSTANTINE'S PHARMACOPOEIA
BRUISED VIOLET COMPOUND
Promotes vigor in undeath, and relieves the discomforts and complaints so common to incorporeal spirits!

The learned and eminent scholar Alessandro Cagliostro once remarked, "Long experience has taught me to prize Doctor Constantine's Compounds above all others!"

Crushed violets, red currant, patchouli root, and Spanish moss.


NOSTRUM REMEDIUM
A Universal Panacea!

Revitalizes the spirit and balances the humors! Prolongs life indefinitely!

Black tea leaf, invigorating wasabi extract, sweetened by honey.

Much despair and suffering can be prevented by the discreet use of Doc Constantine's remedies!


SLIPPERY POPPY TINCTURE
Supports psychic health and strengthens the astral body! Dissolves and expels telepathic blockage!

Every medium should have it! Use before every séance!

Poppy flowers, acai berry, and honey.


STIMULATING SASSAFRAS STRENGTHENER
Valuable in relieving the vapors and in reversing depraved conditions of the system!

Doc Constantine's tonics will make you happy, hale, and hearty!

Sassafras, vanilla extract, oak leaf, CO2 butter extract, and onycha.


While these blends certainly do soothe the mind and bolster the spirit, they are sold as curios only. They are not to be taken internally, or used in any capacity other than that of a perfume. These are tributes to quack medicines of yore and were created in the spirit of nostalgia. This is all tongue-in-cheek, friends. Please do not consider these serious pharmaceuticals.

The illustrations for Doc Constantine's series were hand-drawn by the inimitable Madame Talbot. Please pay her site a visit to see more of her astounding artwork, fascinating curio exhibitions, and beautiful handmade dolls.


++ PHOENIX STEAMWORKS AND RESEARCH FACILITY
PHOENIX STEAMWORKS
Glowing liquid passes through the fogged retorts of ancient alembics, sparks fly from behind a massive workbench, and a cloud of thick incense smoke hangs low, all casting strange and surreal flashes of light and shadow on tall bolted-steel walls. The chug and hum of gargantuan machines echo through the chamber.

Burnished gold and oiled bronze notes with Abramelin incense and sage.


AELOPILE
Smoldering coals heat the device from below, and steam hisses through two curved pipes, rotating the shining brass sphere.

Glowing amber and citrus, labdanum, verbena, cedar, and oud.


THE ANTIKYTHERA MECHANISM
Bronze gears spin inside a polished wooden case, and an entire universe dances within.

Teakwood, oak, black vanilla, and tobacco.


THE COIL
The walls reverberate with a resounding boom as the mechanism is activated, and the boom settles into a hum with a deep, growling buzz. Purple-white and lightning-yellow streamers of electricity cavort over enameled copper wires and through gleaming glass globes; the room is set afire with corona spray, and bare fluorescent bulbs mounted on the walls blaze to life.

Ozone, eucalyptus and mint with purple orchid, passionflower, white ginger, and purple lotus.


ETHER
Glass globes fill with sweet vitriol, and the gas passes lazily through slim tubes. A misty fog veils the senses, and the world fades to hazy, opaque nothingness.

Translucent blooms, ethereal white resins, and davana.


GALVANIC GOGGLES
Golden goggles fitted with zinc and copper plates dangle heavily by their leather straps from a hook mounted to the wall. Its crystal lenses are effulgent with residual electric energy.

Metallic notes with Indian musk, tobacco flower, and African balsam.


NO. 93 ENGINE
Beeswax candles reflect flickering light onto a brass-coated boiler engraved with the words "Solve Et Coagula". The gargantuan boiler sends torrents of steam into rigid pipes that exert force onto innumerable pistons and turbine blades. The motion is harnessed to propel energy into gargantuan cogs and gears that move liquid metals, herbs, and resins into a series of alembics.

Balm of Gilead, benzoin, frankincense, balsam of peru, beeswax, saffron, galbanum, calamus, hyssop, mastic, lemon balm, and white sage.


THE OBSIDIAN WIDOW
Tinkling tiny feet scuttle across a massive oak desk, navigating through a flurry of papers and a maze of discarded books, wires, and bolts. Glistening green venom beads at its chelicerae, and a ruby hourglass flashes from the creature's underbelly as it begins to weave.

Pinot noir, dark myrrh, red sandalwood, black patchouli, night-blooming jasmine, and attar of rose.


THE ROBOTIC SCARAB
Pinpoints of red light beaming from its eyes scan the room, and in a flutter of leather wings, it scuttles across the wooden floorboards.

Polished metallic notes, glossy leather, frankincense, star anise, and thin lubricating oils.


SMOKESTACK
Grey-brown flue gasses belch from colossal steel and concrete monoliths, forming bloated clouds in the dusk-dark sky.

Creosote, coal, and industrial waste.


VIOLET RAY
Though the doctor continued to assure her that the treatment was therapeutic, her anxiety increased. Ignoring her feeble protestations, the doctor produced a pair of glass wands, and set to work.

As the machine hummed to life, her misgivings were dissolved in a haze of unexpected pleasure. Warmth, contrasted sharply with a million white-hot pinpricks and a strangely cooling blast of electricity, surged through her thighs. The metal electrodes secured beneath her corset flared as the electrical current swelled through her nerve endings.

White mint, purple musk, violet, lilac, ylang ylang, lavender moss, and sandalwood.



Illustrations by the phenomenal Mlle. Julie Dillon!


Don't forget! - Its baseball season, boys and girls!




And that's it for now! Please keep an eye out for the next Carnaval Diabolique update coming soon!



From the 20 March 2008 update:

April first is coming, and at BPAL, that means foolishness. Last year we brought you the Dogs Playing Poker Salon Series. This year, we are thrilled to present:

++ ATOMIC LUAU LOUNGE
In the spirit of Polynesian Pop and Tiki Culture, we present Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab's Atomic Luau Lounge: the Exotica Collection.

Tiki Culture became a phenomenon in the late 50's, likely inspired by Hawaii's admission to the union in 1959 and by the memories of World War II veterans that were stationed in the South Pacifi. Tiki enthusiasts were influenced by a panoply of Polynesian themes, and they embraced pop renditions of island artwork, dress, and music, revamping them with a distinctly campy Western flair.

This is our tribute to Donn Beach, a true Pisces if there ever was one. Light the torches, bust out the leis, and bust out the Martin Denny LPs! Without you, Donn, we wouldn't pu pu platters to gorge on, or Zombies to chug!


TIKI QUEEN
Monoi de Tahiti, vanilla, white coconut, tuberose, ylang ylang, white musk, red hibiscus, and neroli.

TIKI KING
Black coconut, black musk, lemon blossom, and ironwood bark.


++ ATOMIC LUAU LOUNGE: THE BAR
BLUE FIRE
Papaya, blueberry, lemongrass, and gin.

GOLDEN WAVE
Tangerine, gin, passion fruit, guava, and tonic.

RANGOON RIPTIDE
Pineapple, mandarin orange, raspberry, passion fruit, and rum.

SCREECHING PARROT
Golden rum, apricot liquor, pineapple, pomegranate, ginger, brandy, grapefruit, and pink lime.

TE PO
Jamaican rum, almond liquor, orange water, sugar syrup, lime peel, black cherry, vodka, and mint.

UPA UPA
Spiced rum, coconut, pineapple, and vanilla.


++ ATOMIC LUAU LOUNGE: FLOTSAM
BOO BAM
Bamboo reed, palm frond, and hibiscus.

MARAE
Vanilla orchid, Monoi tiare, gardenia, and light incense.

MOAI
Volcanic ash and Easter Island palm.

MOANA
Seaweed, awapuhi, and sea foam.

OPUHI
Ginger blossom and vanilla orchid.

TUPAPAU
White sandalwood, pikaki, 'umi'umi-o-dole, and plumeria.


This month's Lunacy also falls prey to our April shenanigans:

WORM MOON
Do not smirk as a hearse goes by,
For you may be the next to die.
They wrap you up in a big white sheet
And throw you down six feet deep.
They put you in a big black box,
And cover you up with dirt and rocks.

All goes well for a week or two,
Then things start changing; all is new.
The worms crawl in, the worms crawl out,
The worms play pinochle on your snout.

A big green worm with rolling eyes,
Crawls in your stomach and out your eyes.
Til your blood turns mossy green
And oozes out like Devonshire cream.

Worm Moon marks the season of rains, when the worms scuttle forth, aerating the earth with their movements and enriching the soil by digesting waste in organic material, which creates organic fertilizer.

Since April is Black Phoenix's Month of Absurdity, we present a melding of Victorian Grotesquery and springtime fecundity: mold-crusted dirt, decomposing organic matter, coffin wood, drooping funeral flowers, congealed blood, gloomy lunar oils, cuckoo flower, and a gruesome burst of overripe red fruits.


Also featured in our LE section:

APRIL FOOL
The first of April is the day we remember what we are the other 364 days of the year. - Mark Twain

The Fool is many things, but rarely is he foolish. He is the inscrutable zero, he is innocence perfected, and he is the nothing from which all things are created. It is the Fool that reveals truth and brings wisdom to King Lear, and it is the Fool that finally finds the Holy Grail.

Huckleberry, white rose, tangerine, nicotiana, lemon blossom, and Fool's Parsley.


BELTANE 2008
One of the holiest days in the Pagan calendar, Beltane [May Day, Cetsamhain, Floralia and Roodmas... also, Beltaine, Bealtaine, Bealtuinn, Beletene, La Bheltine] is the Day of Baal's Fire, and marks the midpoint of Sol's path between the Vernal Equinox and Summer Solstice. In Druidic tradition, need-fires were set atop hills in a symbolic gesture of bringing the Sun's light down to Earth. Celebrants danced around the fires in harmony with the Sun's seeming movement through the sky, and passed eadar dà theine Bhealltuinn, between the Fires of Beltane, to purify themselves. In Scotland, all hearth fires were extinguished, and the flames from the need-fires were used to rekindle their flames, bringing blessings and good fortune into the household. It doesn't matter where your faith lies, Beltane is sacred to us simply because we're human. It is a celebration of new growth, rebirth, of the fertility of our land, our spirits and our bodies, and is a reminder of the joy in simply being alive. Celebrate life! Wind some flowers into your hair, dab a little oil behind each ear, toss the first petals of springtime onto your yard, and bless your garden the old fashioned way!

Mugwort, French rose, Lily of the Valley, broom, frankincense, myrrh, benzoin, foxglove, woodruff, rowan wood, ivy, sandalwood, spring mint, thyme, iris, copal, and night blooming jasmine.


HEXENNACHT 2008
The Night of the Witches. In the Teutonic calendar, April 30, not October 31, was the night that the witches congregated to celebrate their Work through ecstatic dance, wild music and revelry. The witches fêted with spirits, fairies, and a bevy of otherworldy creatures atop Brockenberg peak in the Harz region of Germany, where they lit an enormous bonfire and cavorted naked until midnight... at which point they donned their robes, boarded their brooms, flying rams and sacred goats, scooped up their cat familiars, and sped off into the night. In later days, it was believed that on this night the witches conjured the devil, who would then select one of them for his bride. This perfume is the scent of the witches' revel: German fir and forest herbs, incense and bonfire smoke, infernal flora, glowing amber, and the wet, glimmering scent of skin warmed by dance.


The formulas for Beltane and Hexennacht are new for 2008.

April Fool, Worm Moon, Hexennacht 2008, Beltane 2008, Earth Rat and Parentalia are $17.50 each.

All of our Atomic Luau Lounge and Lupercalia blends are $17.50, with the exception of Tiki Queen and Tiki King, which are $23.00 each.

The Salon Limited Edition series, Novel Ideas For Secret Amusements, are $27.50 each.

The Lupercalia blends, April Fool, Worm Moon, Hexennacht 2008, Beltane 2008, Earth Rat, and Parentalia, will be available until March 23, 2008. The Aromic Luau blends will be available until April 22, 2008.


And with that, let's take a peep at what's new at Black Phoenix Trading Post:



The Worm Moon tee is live! This dapper deceased dandy was drawn by our beloved Jennifer Williamson! Available until March 23, 2008.

Also new this month:



The Phoenix Steamworks tee!

Artwork by the phenomenal Julie Dillon. Rubbed bronze, gold, and sky blue shimmer ink on black tee.

For a limited time, a preview of of next month's steampunk-inspired scent line will be available: the Phoenix Steamworks flagship oil with its accompanying tee! You will receive a tee in the size and style of your choice, plus a 5ml bottle of Phoenix Steamworks: Burnished gold and oiled bronze notes with Abramelin incense and sage.


Also new at the Post: three new locket designs -- Cheshire Cat, Clockwork, and the Queen of Hearts. Clockwork was designed by Alicia Dabney, and is 925 sterling silver that has been partially gold washed using a method popularized in the 19th century. Portions of the face of the Clockwork locket have been deliberately tarnished.


An addition has been made to the House of Phoenix's yoga line: the Hemlock pant --



The Trading Post is proud to introduce the first in our home fragrance line: Atmospheric Room and Linen Sprays. Use these sprays to establish a distinctive ambiance in your living spaces. Each spray possesses a unique essence, dedicated to a specific type of location. Turn your bedroom into a bordello, your rec room into a dungeon, or your library into the Queen's Croquet Ground with a few quick schpritzes!

The scents were created by Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab for the Trading Post. These sprays are generously scented with copious amounts of Black Phoenix perfume oil and disperse beautifully. A little goes a long way.

The labels are printed on an Earth-friendly corn biopolymer, and as always, the Black Phoenix Partnership does not test on animals. We test on friends and family, and on the linens of friends and family!

Please note:
The sprays are not for use on the body. Do not use near an open flame. Please do not shoot these sprays into your eyes, or attempt to use them as perfume. Do not drink the sprays, or use them for any other unforeseen funnybusiness.

These mists may stain pale and delicate fabrics. Don't pour the sprays onto granny's antique linens, that's fer sure!


And last, but not least Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab notepads. Handy lil' pads that are perfect for taking to a meet & sniff or Will Call, doodling, or making into very small paper airplanes!





From the 19 February 2008 update:

Good evening, all! Your faithful narrator is recovering from a challenging first trimester and the rigors of Mercury retrograde, so this update is a small one.

SUGAR MOON
No way to see him
on this moonless night ---
I lie awake longing, burning,
breasts racing fire,
heart in flames.

Sugar cane, blue musk, mahogany, black orchid, black currant, violet, blackberry leaf, teak, strawberry, and dusky rose.


HANAMI
Sleeping under the trees on Yoshino mountain
The spring breeze wearing cherry blossom petals

In Japan, the advent of spring is heralded by a blanket of pink and white that spreads gently from the South to the North to cover the islands. Hana-mi translates to "flower watching", and it is a sport of leisure that has been enjoyed since the Heian Period.


MORT DE CESAR
The essence of intrigue, betrayal, and impending doom.

Well, then, Antony, who was a friend of Caesar's and a robust man, was detained outside by Brutus Albinus, who purposely engaged him in a lengthy conversation; but Caesar went in, and the senate rose in his honour. Some of the partisans of Brutus took their places round the back of Caesar's chair, while others went to meet him, as though they would support the petition which Tillius Cimber presented to Caesar in behalf of his exiled brother, and they joined their entreaties to his and accompanied Caesar up to his chair. But when, after taking his seat, Caesar continued to repulse their petitions, and, as they pressed upon him with greater importunity, began to show anger towards one and another of them, Tillius seized his toga with both hands and pulled it down from his neck. This was the signal for the assault. It was Casca who gave him the first blow with his dagger, in the neck, not a mortal would, nor even a deep one, for which he was too much confused, as was natural at the beginning of a deed of great daring; so that Caesar turned about, grasped the knife, and held it fast. At almost the same instant both cried out, the smitten man in Latin: "Accursed Casca, what does thou?" and the smiter, in Greek, to his brother: "Brother, help!"

So the affair began, and those who were not privy to the plot were filled with consternation and horror at what was going on; they dared not fly, nor go to Caesar's help, nay, nor even utter a word. But those who had prepared themselves for the murder bared each of them his dagger, and Caesar, hemmed in on all sides, whichever way he turned confronting blows of weapons aimed at his face and eyes, driven hither and thither like a wild beast, was entangled in the hands of all; for all had to take part in the sacrifice and taste of the slaughter. Therefore Brutus also gave him one blow in the groin. And it is said by some writers that although Caesar defended himself against the rest and darted this way and that and cried aloud, when he saw that Brutus had drawn his dagger, he pulled his toga down over his head and sank, either by chance or because pushed there by his murderers, against the pedestal on which the statue of Pompey stood. And the pedestal was drenched with his blood, so that one might have thought that Pompey himself was presiding over this vengeance upon his enemy, who now lay prostrate at his feet, quivering from a multitude of wounds. For it is said that he received twenty-three; and many of the conspirators were wounded by one another, as they struggled to plant all those blows in one body.

Conspiracy and murder in the Theatre of Pompey: balsam of Peru, bitter clove, motia attar, amber musk, opoponax, cypress, red wine grapes, tagetes, spikenard, and blood accord.


Sugar Moon and Hanami are $17.50 per 5ml, and Mort de Cesar is $20. All three will be live until February 22, 2008.

At Black Phoenix Trading Post, the Sugar Moon tee is live!



A design inspired by classic tattoo art, doodled by Ms. Jennifer Williamson.

The Sugar Moon tee will be live at Trading Post until February 22, 2008.



From the 24 January 2008:

Per our announcement on December 17th, the following scents were discontinued today:

Asphodel
Calliope
Clio
Erato
Euterpe
Goneril
Hamadryad
Kostnice
Melpomene
Penthus
Phantom
Polyhymnia
Rage
Shroud
Terpsichore
Thaleia
Urania
Vinland
Yerevan
LVRH: Ahathoor
LVRH: Khephra
LVRH: Ra
LVRH: Tum

Thank you for understanding!



From the 20 January 2008 update:

There is a whole lot of Lunacy this month!

At Black Phoenix Trading Post:

Two new bath oils!

LUXURIA BATH OIL
Lust's passion will be served; it demands, it militates, it tyrannizes. -- the Marquis de Sade
Red musk, patchouli, pomegranate, red currant, bourbon vanilla, nutmeg, sweet orange.

CASTITAS BATH OIL
Chastity - the most unnatural of all the sexual perversions. -- Aldous Huxley
Rice flower, vanilla, and cream.


Also, two new BPAL tees have been added to the permanent catalogue!





And, the Lunacies:





Moon of Ice and Cheshire Moon will be live at Black Phoenix Trading Post until January 24, 2008.


And at Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab

MOON OF ICE
The Moon of Ice shines its pale white light on snow-blanketed hills and barren fields. Icicles dangle from skeletal branches, and the desperate howl of starving men and beasts echo through the darkness.

Frost-crusted winter flowers, white pine, eucalyptus, and traditional lunar oils.


PISCES
Mutable water: the essence of faith.
Hemp, opium poppy, sarsaparilla, grains of paradise, passion flower, wisteria, Irish moss, and gentian.


CHESHIRE MOON
The Cat only grinned when it saw Alice. It looked good- natured, she thought: still it had VERY long claws and a great many teeth, so she felt that it ought to be treated with respect.

`Cheshire Puss,' she began, rather timidly, as she did not at all know whether it would like the name: however, it only grinned a little wider. `Come, it's pleased so far,' thought Alice, and she went on. `Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?'

`That depends a good deal on where you want to get to,' said the Cat.

`I don't much care where --' said Alice.

`Then it doesn't matter which way you go,' said the Cat.

`-- so long as I get SOMEWHERE,' Alice added as an explanation.

`Oh, you're sure to do that,' said the Cat, `if you only walk long enough.'

Alice felt that this could not be denied, so she tried another question. `What sort of people live about here?'

`In THAT direction,' the Cat said, waving its right paw round, `lives a Hatter: and in THAT direction,' waving the other paw, `lives a March Hare. Visit either you like: they're both mad.'

`But I don't want to go among mad people,' Alice remarked.

`Oh, you can't help that,' said the Cat: `we're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad.'

`How do you know I'm mad?' said Alice.

`You must be,' said the Cat, `or you wouldn't have come here.'

A lunatic's blend of lunar herbs and blossoms, with lemongrass, guava, pink grapefruit, banyan fruit, hibiscus, and cherry blossom.


LUNAR ECLIPSE
Skoll the wolf who shall scare the Moon
Till he flies to the Wood-of-Woe:
Hati the wolf, Hridvitnir's kin,
Who shall pursue the Sun.

Red musk, black currant, violet leaf, wild frankincense, lavender, black orchid, Darjeeling tea, vetiver, red moss, myrrh, Moroccan spices, blackened fruit gums, and tobacco.



Cheshire Moon and Moon of Ice are $17.50 each.

Pisces 2008 is $20, and Lunar Eclipse is $23.

Moon of Ice and Pisces vanish on January 24, 2008. Cheshire Moon and Lunar Eclipse will be live until February 22, 2008.



And just in time for Valentine's Day -

A double feature tribute to B-movie sci-fi horror romance brought to you by Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab and Dark Delicacies!

The scentmasters of the WEIRD
In their LATEST and most TERRIFYING!



++ DIARY OF A LOVESTRUCK TEENAGE CANNIBAL
The NIGHTMARE TERROR of TEENAGE love gone GRISLY!
She's HELL-BENT on romance, THRILL-CRAZED, and HUNGRY!
There's NO ESCAPE from her clutches!

A deranged darling, sweet and sociopathic! Clotted vanilla cream, pink pepper, grapefruit, blood lily, red ginger, English pear, and lemon-squeezed candyfloss!


++ I MARRIED A VAMPIRE FROM PLANET X
Unspeakable HORROR and SHOCKING supernatural space SEX!
Can they find MARITAL BLISS on EARTH?

A blend of blood-soaked daemonorops, black amber, dark musk, glistening leather, caraway, smoky myrrh, cinnamon, and clove that is glowing with a luminescent, space-addled coating of clary sage, lemon balm, white grapefruit rind, mandarin, green melon, and white musk.



Available solely through those wacky kids at Dark Delicacies. Shipping of the B-Movie scents will begin after January 25, 2008.



IMP REMINDER!
Imps are not available for the following categories of scents:

Limited Edition
Carnaval Diabolique
Lunacy Blends / Astrological Blends
The Neil Gaiman Series
The Stardust Series
The Good Omens Series
The Shojo Beat scents
Any Twilight Alchemy Lab oils
Any oils offered at Black Phoenix Trading Post


The following imps are sold only in pre-packaged full sets:

Panacea
The Chakras
The Salon


If you request a sample of a limited edition scent, we will swap for a random general catalog scent.


And, with the rising of Pisces, this cycle's Suspiciendo Despicio series is concluded. Thanks, everyone! Happy Loonacee!



From the 14 January 2008 update:
Love is in the air at Black Phoenix, and it has suffused both our Limited Edition section and the general catalogue.

First things first: the Love Potions section is now "Ars Amatoria". Why? Because we're a little mercurial here at the Lab, and it seemed like a good idea. New to Ars Amatoria

++ GENERAL CATALOGUE: ARS AMATORIA
DEEP IN EARTH
Deep in earth my love is lying
And I must weep alone.

Rose geranium, Spanish moss, Irish yew, and graveyard dirt.


DEFUTUTA
Good Gods, what a night that was,
The bed was so soft, and how we clung,
Burning together, lying this way and that,
Our uncontrollable passions
Flowing through our mouths.
If I could only die that way,
I'd say goodbye to the business of living.

Olive blossom, honey, smoky vanilla, cinnamon, jasmine, sandalwood, and champaca flower.


FASCINUM
Hic habitat felicitas! The penis was a potent and popular symbol of good fortune, strength, power, and fertility in ancient Rome. Images of phalluses adorned Roman homes and shops, bringing the positive energy that the symbol represents into the lives of the inhabitants.

Golden amber, golden musk, litsea cubeba, cedar, and saffron.


L'ECOLE DES FILLES
We sang till almost night, and drank my good store of wine; and then they parted and I to my chamber, where I did read through L'Escholle des Filles; a lewd book, but what doth me no wrong to read for imagination's sake and after I had done it, I burned it, that it might not be among my books to my shame.

Published around 1655, this is considered to be the origin of modern pornography in France. It is a discourse between two young ladies, the elder instructing the younger in the ways of passion.

This is a libertine's celebration of decadence, debauchery, and sexual freedom: orange blossom, ambergris, orris root, white rose, lemon balm, jonquil, carrot seed, and benzoin.


LOVE'S TORMENTS
Love's torments sought a place of rest,
Where all might drear and lonely be;
They found ere long my desert breast,
And nestled in its vacancy.

White sandalwood, neroli, and vetiver.


TO A WOMAN
Thy fatal shafts unerring move,
I bow before thine altar, Love.
I feel thy soft resistless flame
Glide swift through all my vital frame.

For while I gaze my bosom glows,
My blood in tides impetuous flows;
Hope, fear, and joy alternate roll,
And floods of transports whelm my soul.

My faltering tongue attempts in vain
In soothing murmurs to complain;
My tongue some secret magic ties,
My murmurs sink in broken sighs.

Condemned to nurse eternal care,
And ever drop the silent tear,
Unheard I mourn, unknown I sigh,
Unfriended live, unpitied die.

Benzoin, cassis bud, patchouli, rose otto, and petitgrain.



And, the new Limited Edition scents



++ LUNAR NEW YEAR
EARTH RAT
A new year's blessing! Peony, China's national flower, with bamboo for flexibility, plum blossom for perseverance, courage, and hope, tangerine for wealth, lychee for strong family relationships and peace in the home, orange for happiness, pine resin for constancy, golden kumquat and quince for prosperity, narcissus and King mandarin for good fortune, coconut for longevity, and candied melon for good health, with a splash of blazing red of dragon's blood... to help you scare away the rampaging Nian.


PARENTALIA
The Day of the Fathers. A festival of remembrance, honoring family that has passed into the next life.

Cypress, rose, violet, frankincense, ambrette, marjoram, and Lebanese cedar.



++ LUPERCALIA 2008 UPDATE
ANACTORIA
I feel thy blood against my blood; my pain
Pains thee, and lips bruise lips, and vein stings vein.
Let fruit be crushed on fruit, let flower on flower
Breast kindle breast, and either burn one hour.
Why wilt thou follow lesser loves? are thine
Too weak to bear these hands and lips of mine?

The scent of the throes of violent passion: entangled limbs, teeth on flesh, furiously grasping hands, the taste of blood and sweat. Golden amber, white honey, red currant, daemonorops, kush, and Arabian musk.


KHAJURAHO 2008
The fabled Khajuraho temples of India are shrines of love in all its myriad forms. They are a celebration of love itself -- transcendental, spiritual and erotic. This is a rejection of sorrow, spiritual ennui and despair. The sexual motifs that adorn the temples, and the temples themselves, are monuments to ecstasy and to passion, and through that, they are also monuments to spiritual fulfillment. It is believed that the realization of moksha by dedicating oneself to adhyatma and dharma can be attained only by first experiencing sexual satisfaction. In the midst of the drudgery and struggle that we sometimes endure during the course of our Earthly lives, it is vitally important that we remember the joy found in kama, and that in kama we can achieve transformation of the body and soul. This is a blissful, euphoric blend based on an ancient Indian love potion: honey, date palm, tuberose, davana blossom, amber, white sandalwood, vanilla bean, Damask rose, and champaca flower.


LUPERCI 2008
Piss off, Saint Valentine! Lupercalia is an ancient Roman celebration, held on February 15th, that kicked in the advent of Spring with a very, very festive purification, fertility and sexuality ritual. The ritual began near the cave of Lupercal on the Palatine, an area sacred to Faunus, as well as Ruminia, Romulus and Remus. During Lupercalia, Vestal Virgins first made offerings of sacred cakes to the fig tree under which the she-wolf suckled the Sacred Twins. A dog and two goats were then offered in sacrifice to Faunus. The blood of the sacrifice was smeared onto two naked patrician youths, who were assisted by the Virgins, and the blood was wiped clean with sacred wool dipped in milk. The youths donned the skins of the sacrificial goats, wielding whips made from the goat skins, and then led the priests and the Virgins around the pomarium, and around the base hills of Rome. This was a ceremony of great happiness and merriment, and was of particular interest to young women: being touched by the goat-whips young men that led the procession ensured their fertility in the coming year. It is believed that, after the initial rite, male participants would draw the name of an available maiden, with whom he spent the rest of the night. This scent is for the Luperci, the Chosen of Faunus, the Brothers of the Wolf: raw, down and dirty patchouli, Gurjam balsam, and essence of Sampson Root sweetened with the heightened sexuality of beeswax, virile juniper, oakmoss, ambrette seed over honey and East African musk.


PARLEMENT OF FOULES 2008
For the Valentine's Day purists.

For this was on seynt Volantynys day
Whan euery bryd comyth there to chese his mate.

Medieval romance and courtly love. White rose and soft resins.


RED LANTERN 2008
A tribute to the opium den cum bawdyhouses of Shanghai in the 1930's. Golden amber, blonde tobacco, Sudanese black coconut, rich caramel, black currant, white opium and delphinium laced with a sensual blend of Asian spice.


SMUT 2008
Smut! Smut! Smut! Three swarthy, smutty musks sweetened with sugar and woozy with dark booze notes.


VALENTINE OF ROME
Many legends surround St. Valentine, and history has yet to show, conclusively, which ones are true and which are fiction. One tale claims that Valentine was a 3rd century Christian priest. When Emperor Claudius II declared that his soldiers were never to marry - the emperor believed that single men made better soldiers than those with wives and children - Valentine continued to perform wedding ceremonies in secret. When the emperor learned of Valentine's disobedience, he imprisoned the priest. The emperor chose to interrogate the priest himself, and despite his fury at his orders being flagrantly disobeyed, he was impressed with the priest's intelligence, wisdom, and passion. He attempted to convert the priest to the Roman faith, and was furious when he failed.

While incarcerated, Valentine fell in love with his jailor's blind daughter. Through God's grace and the power of Valentine's pure and true love for this woman, he was able to cure her blindness with a touch. Before he was beaten and beheaded, he sent her a letter expressing his feelings for her, signed 'From Your Valentine'.

Ecclesiastical incense, Roman flora, and the fruits of martyrdom: cypress, olive blossom, frankincense, myrrh, and blood accord.



++ LUPERCALIA: LOVE POEMS
A FAREWELL TO FALSE LOVE
Sir Walter Raleigh
Farewell, false love, the oracle of lies,
A mortal foe and enemy to rest,
An envious boy, from whom all cares arise,
A bastard vile, a beast with rage possessed,
A way of error, a temple full of treason,
In all effects contrary unto reason.

A poisoned serpent covered all with flowers,
Mother of sighs, and murderer of repose,
A sea of sorrows whence are drawn such showers
As moisture lend to every grief that grows;
A school of guile, a net of deep deceit,
A gilded hook that holds a poisoned bait.

A fortress foiled, which reason did defend,
A siren song, a fever of the mind,
A maze wherein affection finds no end,
A raging cloud that runs before the wind,
A substance like the shadow of the sun,
A goal of grief for which the wisest run.

A quenchless fire, a nurse of trembling fear,
A path that leads to peril and mishap,
A true retreat of sorrow and despair,
An idle boy that sleeps in pleasure's lap,
A deep mistrust of that which certain seems,
A hope of that which reason doubtful deems.

Sith then thy trains my younger years betrayed,
And for my faith ingratitude I find;
And sith repentance hath my wrongs bewrayed,
Whose course was ever contrary to kind:
False love, desire, and beauty frail, adieu.
Dead is the root whence all these fancies grew.

Pale lavender, sweet violet, balsam of Peru, and paperwhite narcissus.


THE CLOD AND THE PEBBLE
William Blake
Love seeketh not Itself to please,
Nor for itself hath any care;
But for another gives its ease,
And builds a Heaven in Hells despair.

So sang a little Clod of Clay,
Trodden with the cattle's feet;
But a Pebble of the brook,
Warbled out these metres meet.

Love seeketh only Self to please,
To bind another to Its delight:
Joys in anothers loss of ease,
And builds a Hell in Heavens despite.

Rose otto, clove, patchouli, Indian sandalwood, nutmeg, and cedar.


THE FLOWER SONG
Unknown, Written during Egypt's New Kingdom
To hear your voice is pomegranate wine to me:
I draw life from hearing it.
Could I see you with every glance,
It would be better for me
Than to eat or to drink.

Pomegranate wine, lotus root, river reeds, hyssop, and barley.


HER VOICE
Oscar Wilde
The wild bee reels from bough to bough
With his furry coat and his gauzy wing.
Now in a lily-cup, and now
Setting a jacinth bell a-swing,
In his wandering;
Sit closer love: it was here I trow
I made that vow,

Swore that two lives should be like one
As long as the sea-gull loved the sea,
As long as the sunflower sought the sun --
It shall be, I said, for eternity
'Twixt you and me!
Dear friend, those times are over and done,
Love's web is spun.

Look upward where the poplar trees
Sway and sway in the summer air,
Here in the valley never a breeze
Scatters the thistledowns, but there
Great winds blow fair
From the mighty murmuring mystical seas,
And the wave-lashed leas.

Look upward where the white gull screams
What does it see that we do not see?
Is that a star? or the lamp that gleams
On some outward voyaging argosy, --
Ah! can it be
We have lived our lives in land of dreams!
How sad it seems.

Sweet, there is nothing left to say
But this, that love is never lost.
Keen winter stabs the breasts of May
Whose crimson roses burst his frost,
Ships tempest-tossed
Will find a harbour in some bay,
And so we may.

And there is nothing left to do
But to kiss once again, and part,
Nay, there is nothing we should rue,
I have my beauty, -- you your Art.
Nay, do not start,
One world was not enough for two
Like me and you.

Hyacinth, beeswax, wild roses, vanilla amber, lily of the valley, tiger lily, honeysuckle, carnation, and heliotrope.


LA VITA NUOVA
Dante Alighieri
In that book which is
My memory...
On the first page
That is the chapter when
I first met you
Appear the words...
Here begins a new life

Apple blossom, white rose, lemon balm, and champagne grape.


LONGING
Matthew Arnold
Come to me in my dreams, and then
By day I shall be well again.
For then the night will more than pay
The hopeless longing of the day.

Come, as thou cam'st a thousand times,
A messenger from radiant climes,
And smile on thy new world, and be
As kind to others as to me.

Or, as thou never cam'st in sooth,
Come now, and let me dream it truth.
And part my hair, and kiss my brow,
And say My love! why sufferest thou?

Come to me in my dreams, and then
By day I shall be well again.
For then the night will more than pay
The hopeless longing of the day.

Rose geranium, frankincense, Ceylon cinnamon, golden musk, bay rum, and bois du rose.


LOVE'S PHILOSOPHY
Percy Bysshe Shelley
The fountains mingle with the river,
And the rivers with the ocean;
The winds of heaven mix forever,
With a sweet emotion;
Nothing in the world is single;
All things by a law divine
In one another's being mingle; --
Why not I with thine?

See! the mountains kiss high heaven,
And the waves clasp one another;
No sister flower would be forgiven,
If it disdained it's brother;
And the sunlight clasps the earth,
And the moonbeams kiss the sea; --
What are all these kissings worth,
If thou kiss not me?

Vanilla, saffron, and cream.


NIGHT THOUGHTS
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Stars, you are unfortunate, I pity you,
Beautiful as you are, shining in your glory,
Who guide seafaring men through stress and peril
And have no recompense from gods or mortals,
Love you do not, nor do you know what love is.
Hours that are aeons urgently conducting
Your figures in a dance through the vast heaven,
What journey have you ended in this moment,
Since lingering in the arms of my beloved
I lost all memory of you and midnight.

Lilac, blue musk, dianthus, cedar, neroli, ozone, and luminous Eastern herbs.


THE PASSIONATE SHEPHERD TO HIS LOVE
Christopher Marlowe
Come live with me and be my love,
And we will all the pleasures prove,
That valleys, groves, hills and fields,
Woods or steepy mountains yields.

And we will sit upon the rocks,
Seeing the shepherds feed their flocks
By shallow rivers, to whose falls
Melodious birds sing madrigals.

And I will make thee beds of roses,
And a thousand fragrant posies,
A cap of flowers and a kirtle
Embroidered all with leaves of myrtle;

A gown made of the finest wool,
Which from our pretty lambs we pull;
Fair-lined slippers for the cold,
With buckles of the purest gold;

A belt of straw and ivy buds,
With coral clasps and amber studs;
And if these pleasures may thee move,
Come live with me and be my love.

The shepherd swains shall dance and sing
For thy delight each May morning;
If these delights thy mind may move,
Then live with me and be my love.

Heather, clover, Irish moss, English ivy, tea rose, and carnation.


THE PRESENCE OF LOVE
Samuel Taylor Coleridge
And in Life's noisiest hour,
There whispers still the ceaseless Love of Thee,
The heart's Self-solace and soliloquy.

______________________

You mould my Hopes, you fashion me within;
And to the leading Love-throb in the Heart
Thro' all my Being, thro' my pulses beat;
You lie in all my many Thoughts, like Light,
Like the fair light of Dawn, or summer Eve
On rippling Stream, or cloud-reflecting Lake.
And looking to the Heaven, that bends above you,
How oft ! I bless the Lot, that made me love you.

White musk, rose-swirled amber, pink grapefruit, and jasmine.


SAPPHICS
Algernon Charles Swinburne
All the night sleep came not upon my eyelids,
Shed not dew, nor shook nor unclosed a feather,
Yet with lips shut close and with eyes of iron
Stood and beheld me.

Then to me so lying awake a vision
Came without sleep over the seas and touched me,
Softly touched mine eyelids and lips; and I too,
Full of the vision,

Saw the white implacable Aphrodite,
Saw the hair unbound and the feet unsandalled
Shine as fire of sunset on western waters;
Saw the reluctant

Feet, the straining plumes of the doves that drew her,
Looking always, looking with necks reverted,
Back to Lesbos, back to the hills whereunder
Shone Mitylene;

Heard the flying feet of the Loves behind her
Make a sudden thunder upon the waters,
As the thunder flung from the strong unclosing
Wings of a great wind.

So the goddess fled from her place, with awful
Sound of feet and thunder of wings around her;
While behind a clamour of singing women
Severed the twilight.

Ah the singing, ah the delight, the passion!
All the Loves wept, listening; sick with anguish,
Stood the crowned nine Muses about Apollo;
Fear was upon them,

While the tenth sang wonderful things they knew not.
Ah the tenth, the Lesbian! the nine were silent,
None endured the sound of her song for weeping;
Laurel by laurel,

Faded all their crowns; but about her forehead,
Round her woven tresses and ashen temples
White as dead snow, paler than grass in summer,
Ravaged with kisses,

Shone a light of fire as a crown for ever.
Yea, almost the implacable Aphrodite
Paused, and almost wept; such a song was that song.
Yea, by her name too

Called her, saying, "Turn to me, O my Sappho;"
Yet she turned her face from the Loves, she saw not
Tears for laughter darken immortal eyelids,
Heard not about her

Fearful fitful wings of the doves departing,
Saw not how the bosom of Aphrodite
Shook with weeping, saw not her shaken raiment,
Saw not her hands wrung;

Saw the Lesbians kissing across their smitten
Lutes with lips more sweet than the sound of lute-strings,
Mouth to mouth and hand upon hand, her chosen,
Fairer than all men;

Only saw the beautiful lips and fingers,
Full of songs and kisses and little whispers,
Full of music; only beheld among them
Soar, as a bird soars

Newly fledged, her visible song, a marvel,
Made of perfect sound and exceeding passion,
Sweetly shapen, terrible, full of thunders,
Clothed with the wind's wings.

Then rejoiced she, laughing with love, and scattered
Roses, awful roses of holy blossom;
Then the Loves thronged sadly with hidden faces
Round Aphrodite,

Then the Muses, stricken at heart, were silent;
Yea, the gods waxed pale; such a song was that song.
All reluctant, all with a fresh repulsion,
Fled from before her.

All withdrew long since, and the land was barren,
Full of fruitless women and music only.
Now perchance, when winds are assuaged at sunset,
Lulled at the dewfall,

By the grey sea-side, unassuaged, unheard of,
Unbeloved, unseen in the ebb of twilight,
Ghosts of outcast women return lamenting,
Purged not in Lethe,

Clothed about with flame and with tears, and singing
Songs that move the heart of the shaken heaven,
Songs that break the heart of the earth with pity,
Hearing, to hear them.

Tonka, oakmoss, tolu balsam, grey amber, myrrh, and muguet.


THE RAGGED WOOD
William Butler Yeats
O, hurry, where by water, among the trees,
The delicate-stepping stag and his lady sigh,
When they have looked upon their images
Would none had ever loved but you and I!

Or have you heard that sliding silver-shoed
Pale silver-proud queen-woman of the sky,
When the sun looked out of his golden hood?
O, that none ever loved but you and I!

O hurry to the ragged wood, for there
I will drive all those lovers out and cry
O, my share of the world, O, yellow hair!
No one has ever loved but you and I.

Lily of the Valley, star jasmine, benzoin, vanilla, plumeria, bergamot, Terebinth pine, juniper berry, and tea rose.


TO HELEN
Edgar Allan Poe
I saw thee once - once only - years ago:
I must not say how many - but not many.
It was a July midnight; and from out
A full-orbed moon, that, like thine own soul, soaring,
Sought a precipitate pathway up through heaven,
There fell a silvery-silken veil of light,
With quietude, and sultriness, and slumber,
Upon the upturned faces of a thousand
Roses that grew in an enchanted garden,
Where no wind dared to stir, unless on tiptoe
Fell on the upturn'd faces of these roses
That gave out, in return for the love-light,
Their odorous souls in an ecstatic death
Fell on the upturn'd faces of these roses
That smiled and died in this parterre, enchanted
By thee, and by the poetry of thy presence.

Clad all in white, upon a violet bank
I saw thee half reclining; while the moon
Fell on the upturn'd faces of the roses,
And on thine own, upturn'd - alas, in sorrow!
Was it not Fate, that, on this July midnight
Was it not Fate, (whose name is also Sorrow,)
That bade me pause before that garden-gate,
To breathe the incense of those slumbering roses?
No footstep stirred: the hated world an slept,
Save only thee and me. (Oh, Heaven! oh, God!
How my heart beats in coupling those two words!)
Save only thee and me. I paused - I looked
And in an instant all things disappeared.
(Ah, bear in mind this garden was enchanted!)

The pearly lustre of the moon went out:
The mossy banks and the meandering paths,
The happy flowers and the repining trees,
Were seen no more: the very roses' odors
Died in the arms of the adoring airs.
All - all expired save thee - save less than thou:
Save only the divine light in thine eyes
Save but the soul in thine uplifted eyes.
I saw but them - they were the world to me!
I saw but them - saw only them for hours,
Saw only them until the moon went down.
What wild heart-histories seemed to he enwritten
Upon those crystalline, celestial spheres!
How dark a woe, yet how sublime a hope!
How silently serene a sea of pride!
How daring an ambition; yet how deep
How fathomless a capacity for love!
But now, at length, dear Dian sank from sight,
Into a western couch of thunder-cloud;
And thou, a ghost, amid the entombing trees
Didst glide away. Only thine eyes remained;
They would not go - they never yet have gone;
Lighting my lonely pathway home that night,
They have not left me (as my hopes have) since;
They follow me - they lead me through the years.
They are my ministers - yet I their slave.
Their office is to illumine and enkindle
My duty, to be saved by their bright light,
And purified in their electric fire,
And sanctified in their elysian fire.
They fill my soul with Beauty (which is Hope),
And are far up in Heaven - the stars I kneel to
In the sad, silent watches of my night;
While even in the meridian glare of day
I see them still - two sweetly scintillant
Venuses, unextinguished by the sun!

Electric ozone, opaline notes, moonflower, white amber, beeswax, and three roses.


And last, but not least, a temporary wing has been added to the Salon. Novel Ideas For Secret Amusements is a Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab Salon Limited Edition series celebrating the joy, humor, playfulness, and thrill of sexual intercourse through scent interpretations of Edo era Japanese erotic art. This exhibit contains explicit depictions of sexual acts and nudity, and viewer discretion is advised.


Earth Rat, Parentalia, and all of our Lupercalia blends are $17.50, with the exception of the Salon Limited Edition series, Novel Ideas For Secret Amusements, which are $27.50 each.

The Yule, Anniversary, and Resurrected blends will be available until January 15, 2008. The Lupercalia blends, Earth Rat, and Parentalia, will be available until March 23, 2008.


The Black Phoenix Trading Post update will be live soon, and we'll be back for Lunacy!




From the Midwinter 2007 update:
Happy Yuletide, boys and girls!

We have two offerings for this month's Lunacy:

OLD MOON
The cold earth slept below;
          Above the cold sky shone;
                  And all around,
                  With a chilling sound,
From caves of ice and fields of snow
The breath of night like death did flow
                  Beneath the sinking moon.

The wintry hedge was black;
          The green grass was not seen;
                  The birds did rest
                  On the bare thorn's breast,
Whose roots, beside the pathway track,
Had bound their folds o'er many a crack
                  Which the frost had made between.

Thine eyes glow'd in the glare
          Of the moon's dying light;
                  As a fen-fire's beam
                  On a sluggish stream
Gleams dimly-so the moon shone there,
And it yellow'd the strings of thy tangled hair,
                  That shook in the wind of night.

The moon made thy lips pale, belov'd;
          The wind made thy bosom chill;
                  The night did shed
                  On thy dear head
Its frozen dew, and thou didst lie
Where the bitter breath of the naked sky
                  Might visit thee at will.

A dark, still winter's night. The cold, white moon shines on frozen ground dusted with silent snow: evergreen, juniper, winterberry holly, bayberry, Viking black chokeberry, hemlock, and yew, ice-rimed, gilded by traditional lunar herbs and flowers.

AQUARIUS 2007
Fixed air: the essence of idealism.
Wisteria, myrrh, anise, galbanum, bryony, and pomegranate.


The Wheel of the Julian/Gregorian Year is completed, and with 2007's passing went the last of our shapeshifter LE's.

And new at Black Phoenix Trading Post:



Both the Lunacy scents and the Lunacy tee will be live until December 26, 2007.


In order to make room for several upcoming series and single shot additions to portions of our general catalogue, we are forced to cull the herd. The following blends are being discontinued. They will be offline when the January Lunacy comes down on January 24, 2008.

Ahathoor
Asphodel
Calliope
Clio
Erato
Euterpe
Goneril
Hamadryad
Kostnice
Melpomene
Penthus
Phantom
Polyhymnia
Rage
Shroud
Terpsichore
Thaleia
Urania
Vinland
Yerevan
LVRH: Ahathoor
LVRH: Khephra
LVRH: Ra
LVRH: Tum

Have a safe, sane, and sexy winter season, everyone!



From the 21 November 2007 update:

Blue Moon threw us for a loop this year, so this month we are doing something a little different for Lunacy.

Old skool Lunacies will resume, as scheduled, next month.


SEA OF TRANQUILITY
Look how the pale Queen of the silent night
doth cause the ocean to attend upon her,
and he, as long as she is in sight,
with his full tide is ready here to honor;

But when the silver waggon of the Moon
is mounted up so high he cannot follow,
the sea calls home his crystal waves to morn,
and with low ebb doth manifest his sorrow.

Silver-dusted lotus, white amber, rose otto, passion flower, white sandalwood, buttonweed, and white poppy.


TANUKI
Tan Tan Tanuki no kintama wa,
Kaze mo nai no ni,
Bura bura!

The mischievous sake-swigging, debt-riddled shapeshifting raccoon dog. These creatures carry a fistfuls of counterfeit cash and wear leaves from Buddha's sacred lotus atop their heads. Their kin-tama -- golden balls -- are so large that they can swing them over their shoulders like backpacks, and are so taut that they can play them like drums. They are masters at the art of transformation, and live to overindulge in wine and women.

A scent of hedonistic, uninhibited joy: bamboo reed, plum blossom, persimmon, magnolia, black pine, sweet osmanthus, flowering cherry, mandarin orange, wisteria, and yuzu.


CAPRICORN 2007
Cardinal earth: the essence of control.
Solomon's Seal, pine, amaranth, ambrette, cypress, wild tobacco, and hemp.


Sea of Tranquility and Tanuki are $17.50 each, and Capricorn 2007 is $20.00. The Lunacy (both BPAL and BPTP) will be live until approximately 9pm PST on Monday, November 26, 2007.


Tonight, there's a gigantic BPTP update. Check out the Trading Post New Schtuff Page!

Happy holidays, everyone!



From the 18 November 2007 update:

As of November 25, 2007, the Poe Collection will be available at Dark Delicacies in Burbank, CA. We will be kick-starting it with them at the Dark Delicacies shop from 2-5pm on that day.

Dark Delicacies
4213 W. Burbank Blvd
Burbank, CA 91505
818-556-6660
888-DARKDEL

This month marks DD's 13th Anniversary, and to commemorate it, we have created Black Lace: the embodiment of Victorian funereal elegance. A delicate sugar-spun vanilla cream cotton, stained by tobacco and incense smoke, Indian musk, and drops of cognac. Black Lace will be available through Dark Delicacies as of November 25th, and will be on sale during our trunk show that day.


The Salon: Traveling Exhibition is available at the following fine shops:

Le Pink & Co.
3820 W. Sunset Blvd.
Los Angeles, CA 90026
323-661-PINK

Nail Polish Etc.
1140 Cocoa Ave
Hershey, PA 17033
717-312-0444

Whole Foods Market
aka Harry's Farmer's Market
1180 Upper Hembree Rd.
Roswell, GA
770-664-6300


Our links page is in a constant state of flux. Check it out, if you have some spare time. There's some pretty nifty stuff there. =)


Aaaaaaaand

Happy friggin' birthday, BPAL!

To celebrate five glorious years of depravity, debauch, and decadence, we present our anniversary scents: two chromatic phoenixes, Blood Phoenix, Mechanical Phoenix, and one resurrected blend!

The four phoenixes represent some of what we strive for at Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab.

++ 5TH ANNIVERSARY
BLOOD PHOENIX
Blood: expressing passion, will, and a sensual aesthetic.
Dragon's blood resin, helichrysum, burgundy wine grape, red musk, opoponax, red poppy, myrrh, carnation, tonka, almond, mimosa, jonquil, and neroli.

GREEN PHOENIX
Green, for growth, expansion, prosperity, and stability.
Sage, white mint, grey amber, papaya pulp, crushed grass, cucumber, green musk, green tea, and lime rind.

MECHANICAL PHOENIX
A mechanical construct: illustrating strong work ethic, determination, creativity, and innovation.
Copper gears, brass cogs, fused wiring, scorched iron, and motor oil.

WHITE PHOENIX
White, for acting in good conscience and doing our best to give back to the community.
Frangipani, magnolia, cotton flower, osmanthus, crystal musk, ambrette, white orchid, sugar cane, davana, white sandalwood, petitgrain, lavender, and lotus root.


++ RESURRECTED
MIDWAY RESURRECTED
From our dead and buried 2005 / 2006 Carnaval Noir line.
A bombardment of edible carnival indulgences. Funnel cake, caramel apple, cotton candy, salt water taffy and sugar tart.

All of our Anniversary blends are $20.00 each, and Midway: Resurrected is $17.50. They will be live until January 15, 2008.

Five years? Holy crap! A million thanks to our beloved customers for making this possible. We look forward to the opportunity to share our dreams, nightmares, and desires with you until Kingdom Come!



From the 24 October 2007 update:

Praise to the Neil! Praise to the Terry! We are thrilled to present four new Good Omens scents, and two new Stardust scents!

++ GOOD OMENS
FAMINE
It was not surprising that she had recognized him, for his dark grey eyes stared out from his photo on the foil-embossed cover. Foodless Dieting: Slim Yourself Beautiful, the book was called; The Diet Book of the Century!

Sleek black tea, tobacco leaf, frankincense, lilac, and white musk.


MADAME TRACY

Newt had been amazed to find that Madam Tracy was a middle-aged, motherly soul, whose gentleman callers called as much for a cup of tea and a nice chat as for what little discipline she was still able to exact.

A coquettish blend of tea rose, ume blossom, geranium, lily of the valley, violet, and heliotrope.


POLLUTION
"Excuse me," barked Tyler. "Is that your crisp packet?"

"Oh, it's not just mine," said the boy. "It's everybody's."

R.P. Tyler drew himself up to his full height. "Young man,' he said, "how would you feel if I came over to your house and dropped litter everywhere?"

Pollution smiled, wistfully. 'Very, very pleased,' he breathed.

"Oh, that would be wonderful."

Beneath his bike an oil slick puddled a rainbow on the wet road.

A toxic chypre: radioactive green musk, davana, and oozing white amber.



It wasn't a dark and stormy night.

It should have been, but that's the weather for you. For every mad scientist who's had a convienient thunderstorm just on the night his Great Work is finished and lying on the slab, there have been dozens who've sat around aimlessly under the peaceful stars while Igor racks up the overtime.

But don't let the fog (with rain later, temperatures dropping to around forty-five degrees) give anyone a false sense of security. Just because it's a mild night doesn't mean that dark forces aren't abroad. They're abroad all the time. They're everywhere.

They always are. That's the whole point.

Two of them lurked in a ruined graveyard. Two shadowy figures, one hunched and squat, the other lean and menacing, both of them Olympic-grade lurkers. If Bruce Springsteen had ever recorded "Born to Lurk," these two would have been on the album cover. They had been lurking in the fog for over an hour now, but they had been pacing themselves and could lurk for the rest of the night if necessary, with still enough sullen menace left for a final burst of lurking around dawn.

Finally, after another twenty minutes, one of them said: "Bugger this for a lark. He should have been here hours ago."

The speaker's name was Hastur. He was a Duke of Hell.


HASTUR
Smoky-sour labdanum, black patchouli, wet tobacco, and brimstone.


"What's this Crowley like?" said Ligur.
Hastur spat. "He's been up here too long," he said. "Right from the Start. Gone native, if you ask me. Drives a car with a telephone in it."

Ligur pondered this. Like most demons, he had a very limited grasp of technology, and so he was just about to say something like, I bet it needs a lot of wire, when the Bentley rolled to a halt at the cemetery gate.


LIGUR
Dry olibanum, black moss, soggy ti, khus, and opoponax.



++ STARDUST
FAIRY WINE
Mr. Bromios had set up a wine-tent and was selling wines and pasties to the village folk, who were often tempted by the foods being sold by the folk from Beyond the Wall but had been told by their grandparents, who had got it from their grandparents, that it was deeply, utterly wrong to eat fairy food, to drink fairy water and sip fairy wine.

An ethereal vintage, steeped with dandelion, honey, and red currants.


LADY UNA
"Why, you are crying."

She said nothing. Dunstan pulled her toward him, wiping ineffectually at her face with his big hand; and then he leaned into her sobbing face, and, tentatively, uncertain of whether or not he was doing the correct thing given the circumstances, he kissed her, full upon the burning lips.

There was a moment of hesitation, and then her mouth opened against his, and her tongue slid into his mouth, and he was, under the strange stars, utterly, irrevocably, lost.

Honey musk, green tea leaf, blackberry leaf, vanilla bean, and fae spices.



As always, these are not-for-profit scents. The proceeds from the Stardust series benefit the noble Comic Book Legal Defense Fund, and the proceeds from the Good Omens series are split between the CBLDF and the Orangutan Foundation UK.


The Lunacies and Suspiciendo Despicio blends are live, and will be up until October 27, 2007.

++ LIMITED EDITION
LONG NIGHT MOON
The nights are at their longest, the sky is at its darkest. The air is still with reflective silence.

A bouquet of night-blooming flowers, petals dusted with frost. Cereus, moonflower accord, night phlox, honeysuckle, silver thyme, white mint, and blue musk.


SAGITTARIUS
Mutable Fire: the essence of striving.
Sage, clove, dandelion, balm of gilead, fig, and chamomile.


IVANUSHKA
Soft, velvety fur and warm musk, brushed by forest woods and dusted by dry leaves.



At BPTP, the Long Night Moon tee is live:



The tee will be up until October 27, 2007.


Because of many factors - not the least of which is the upcoming nuptials - the bulk of what was going to go live at BPTP is on hold for a few weeks. Thank you for understanding!

I know I'm usually more loquacious than this, but the Z-pack is giving me a bellyache, so I'm off to drool a bit on the couch while I watch everything that's been building up on my tivo for the past month!

By next update, your faithful narrator will be a married woman. Eek!

Cheers!





From the 12 October 2007 update:

The weather is getting blissfully gloomy, and to help usher in the delightful chill, we are thrilled to present the Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab Yuletide scents!

ANGERONALIA
Angeronalia, also called Divalia, is a Roman festival that takes place at the Winter Solstice. This celebration honors the Goddess Angerona. The Lady of Silence and Secrets is also She Who Stands As the Protector of Rome, and she is represented with her mouth bound, or with her index finger held over her mouth, commanding silence. On this day, the Goddess was implored to grant her children strength and protection. And, as it was believed that Angerona and Voluptia, the Goddess of Joy and Pleasure, were one and the same, sacrifices were made at the temple to Voluptia in order to drive sorrow, regret, and pain from the hearts of the people.

Strength, passion, and the cleansing fire of joy: olive blossom, white nectarine, vibrant blood orange, honey absolute, lemongrass, elemi, sensual patchouli, and the quiet purity of gardenia.


ARCHANGEL WINTER
In the dread circle hemmed by glaciers,
Pallid waste where no radiant fathomers,
Columbuses or Gamas, ever pass,
In realms of dingy gloom and deep crevasse
Seized from creation by nonentity,
Beyond ice floe and berg and ice-bound sea,
Deep in the fog that quenches every ray,
In stone waves and rock waters, far from day,
Amid the gloom, there, on the pole, stands black
Archangel Winter, darkness on his back
And trumpet at his lips; nor does he cast
One flash of eye, or blow one clarion-blast;
He never even dreams, being sheer snow;
The winged winds, captives of that age-old foe
Silence, are in his hand-birds in a snare;
His sightless eyes horribly watch the air;
Hoarfrost is in his bones and on his head,
And he is swathed in ever-petrified dread;
He terrifies the Vast, he seems so wild;
He is harsh, dismal, ice-that is, exiled;
The earth beneath his feet, in its dark cape,
Is dumb; he is the mute white stony shape
Set on that tomb in the eternal night;
Never does any motion, sound, or light
Brush the lone giant in that somber pall.
But when, on the timepieces that we call
Stars, the last day, endless and centerless,
Will sound, then the Lord's face will luminesce
And melt the spirit; his mouth will distend
Suddenly, in a savage, dreadful bend,
And the worlds-skiffs rudderless, rolling on --
Will hear the storm-blast of his clarion.

Crystalline, glassy ice whipped by a snowstorm. Piercing ozone, winter darkness.


CHANUKKIYAH
Baruch ata Ado-nai, Elo-heinu Melech ha'olam, Asher kid'shanu b'mitzvosav v'tzivanu l'hadlik ner shel Chanukah.

Baruch ata Ado-nai, Elo-heinu Melech ha'olam, She'asah nisim la'avoseinu, bayamim ha'hem baz'man hazeh.

Baruch ata Ado-nai, Elo-heinu Melech ha'olam, She'hecheyanu, vekiyemanu vehigi'anu laz'man hazeh.

Olive oil, beeswax, glowing amber, sweet sufganiyot, pomegranate, and fig.

Ha'Neiros halalu anachnu madlikin al hanisim ve'al hanifla'os, ve'al hat'shu'os ve'al hamilchamos, sh'asisa la'avoseinu bayamim hahem baz'man hazeh, al yedei kohaneicha hakedoshim. Vechol sh'monas yemei Chanukah, haneiros halalu kodesh hem. Ve'ein lanu reshus le'hishtamesh ba'hem, eh'la lir'osam bilvad, ke'dei le'hodos u'lehalel leshimcha hagadol al nisecha ve'al nifle'osecha ve'al yeshu'oshecha.

Ma'oz tzur yeshu'asi
Lecha na'eh leshabe'ach
Tikone bais tefilasi
Ve'sham todah nezabe'ach
Le'es Tachin Mabe'ach
Mitzar ham'nabe'ach
Az egmor beshir mizmor
Chanukas hamizbe'ach.


CHRISTMAS ROSE
Bruise-tinted hellebore blossoms pushing through snowdrifts.


DIWALI
The Festival of Lights, a celebration of life, prosperity, and the triumph of good over evil, light over darkness, and knowledge over ignorance. The first day, Dhanvantari Triodasi, honors Lakshmi, the Goddess of Wealth, Good Fortune, and Splendor, and Yama, Lord of Death and the Keeper of the Book of Destiny. The second day, Narak-Chaturdashi, celebrates Lord Krishna's victory over the demon lord, Narkasur. On this day, fierce Kali, the Great and Terrible Mother, is venerated, and she is entreated to grant her children strength. Narak-Chaturdashi also commemorates the birth of Hanuman, the vanara who helped Lord Rama rescue Sita from Ravana, the Rakshasa king. The third day, called Diwali, is wholly devoted to the worship and propitiation of Lakshmi, She Who is as Beautiful as a Lotus. The fourth day, Annakut, is the first day of the lunar New Year. Old accounts are settled, new ventures begin. On the fifth and final day of Diwali, Bhayiduj, sibling love is celebrated.

It is a time to banish ignorance and hate, and to dissolve jealousy. It is a time to renew our spirits through light and understanding, and to ask for blessings of prosperity and joy for the upcoming year.

It is a time where we embrace our friends and forgive our enemies.

Lotus root, mango, tamarind, cardamom, clove, almond milk, cashew, rice flower, coconut, supari, raisins, and incense crafted from aloeswood, red sandalwood, cedar, and spikenard.


EGG NOG 2007
Sweet brandy, dark rum, heavy cream, sugar, and a dash of nutmeg.


EL DIA DE REYES
The Day of Kings, the Celebration of the Magi. In Mexico, on January 6th, children place their shoes by their windows. If they have been good during the previous year, the Wise Men tuck gifts into their shoes during the night.

Hot cocoa with cinnamon, coffee, and brown sugar.


THE FRUIT OF PARADISE
While Persephone visited the realm of Hades, she tasted one single pomegranate seed, an act which compelled her to remain connected to the Land of the Dead for all eternity. Demeter's grief over her beloved daughter's absence that brings on the bleakness and barrenness of the winter months.

The Fruit of Paradise, the Nectar of Death: bittersweet pomegranate, nurtured and cultivated in the hollow darkness of the Underworld.


GINGERBREAD POPPET 2007
Warm, cozy gingerbread spiced with nutmeg, clove and cinnamon.


HALOA 2007
Sacred to both Demeter and Dionysus, this is a celebration of the of the pruning of the vines, the first fermentation of the year's wine, and of the consecration of the next year's planting. The service was lead by the heterai and the Eleusinian Arkhontes, and began with the preparation of a banquet that honors Demeter's bounty and the fertility aspect of Dionysus with pudenda- and phallus-shaped cakes. After the preliminary feast, the magistrates departed, and the heterai held a second rite that consisted of copious wine consumption, ritual symbolic fornication, and formal offerings of incense, grain, and cakes to sacred statues of the deities and to clay images of genitalia. Finally, the magistrates and priests were permitted to rejoin the ritual. A Priest and Priestess bore torches that symbolize Demeter and her daughter Persephone presided over the final ceremony, which culminated in the ultimate celebration of fertility: an orgy that lasted til dawn.

Wine grapes, myrrh, frankincense and olive leaf, and the warm scent of offertory cakes.


JOLASVEINAR 2007
The Jólasveinar are the seventy-some offspring of Grýla and Leppalúði, an ogre couple with a taste for chomping naughty children. This impish brood delights in causing discomfort, sowing confusion, and all-out raising hell during the Yule season. Their names are indicative of their malicious intentions -- Strap Loosener, Door Slammer, Window Peeper, Sausage Snatcher, Doorway Sniffer, Icebreaker -- and their creepy natures -- Lamp Shadow, Smoke Gulper, Crevice Imp. The devillish Jólasveinar finally cease their mischief and head for home at Þrettándinn.

Their scent is a mishmash of snow, dirt, Icelandic moss, marsh felwort, and the smushed petals of buttercups and moorland spotted orchids, with the barest hint of the scent of pilfered Christmas pastries.


KRAMPUS 2007
Anything BUT jolly! Draped with chains and bells, wielding both whip and rod, this rag-clad, horned, red-skinned, soot-covered leering creature is both the companion and the antithesis of rosy-cheeked and ebullient Kris Kringle. He is called by many names, and, in a myriad of cultures, he is seen with different robes and faces, but he is nevertheless always a sinister and fearsome instrument of Santa's wrath: he wields a switch on all irredeemably naughty children before tossing them into his large black sack and whisking them away.

Be good, or Krampus will toss you in a river! Sinister red musk, black leather, dusty rags, and wooden switches.


LA BEFANA
On the night of the Epiphany, a joyful, broomstick-riding hag clad in a tattered shawl drops into chimneys all over Italy, bestowing gifts to good children, and dropping coal into the stockings of naughty kiddies.

La Befana vien di notte
Con le scarpe tutte rotte
Col vestito alla Romana
Viva, Viva La Befana!

As the Three Wise Men searched for the house of the Christ child, they found themselves lost. Eventually, they stopped at a small house and knocked on the door. A small, wizened woman opened the door, holding a broom in her hand. The Astrologers asked the woman if she knew the location of the child, but, unfortunately, she did not know who these men were looking for, and could not aid them in their search. It was deep into the night, and the air was chilly, so the kindly woman offered the three men her hospitality. They spent the night in her warm, comfortable home, and shared bread and stories with one another. The Astrologers explained to the woman why they were looking for this blessed infant, and invited her to join them in their search come morning. Though she was touched by their tale, she declined, as she had a great deal of housework to do. At daybreak, the Astrologers awoke. They thanked the woman for her generosity, gathered their things, and prepared to leave. Before they departed, they, again, asked the old woman if she would like to join them on their journey. Again, she declined, and sent them on their way. After they had left, she regretted her decision, and she set off to find the Three Wise Men. After many long and frustrating hours of searching, she still could not find them. Saddened, yet still filled with hope, she stopped to give a gift to every good child she passed.

La Befana comes by night
With her shoes old and broken
She comes dressed in the Roman way
Long life to the Befana!

Candy charcoal, winter lilies, parma violet, a sprig of cypress, a poof of chimney dust, and holiday sweets.


LICK IT ONE MORE TIME
Every holiday season should be full of lewd suggestions and filthy double entendres, right? This is a new take on Lick It and Lick It Again -- a peppermint candy cane with a flash of vanilla and an extra jolt of sugar.

(As always, we have to state: don't lick perfume. Don't eat it, drink it, cook with it, or use it in any strange and unforeseen way. Black Phoenix is not responsible for that sort of irresponsible funnybusiness.)


MIDWINTER'S EVE 2007
A melancholy, deep scent, poignant and brimming with nostalgia. The perfume of sugared plums over a breeze of winter flowers.


MISTLETOE 2007
The plant of peace in Norse tradition. If enemies met in the forest and came upon a sprig, they laid down their arms and observed a truce until the next sunrise.


NOCHE BUENA
A celebration of the Nativity: the light, uplifting incense of the Misa de Noche Buena, purple sage, and a vibrant bouquet of plumeria, chrysanthemum, tuberose, Angel's Trumpet, Mexican tiger lily, dahlia, and azucenas.


NOVEMBER
Yet one smile more, departing, distant sun!
One mellow smile through the soft vapoury air,
Ere, o'er the frozen earth, the loud winds ran,
Or snows are sifted o'er the meadows bare.
One smile on the brown hills and naked trees,
And the dark rocks whose summer wreaths are cast,
And the blue Gentian flower, that, in the breeze,
Nods lonely, of her beauteous race the last.
Yet a few sunny days, in which the bee
Shall murmur by the hedge that skim the way,
The cricket chirp upon the russet lea,
And man delight to linger in thy ray.
Yet one rich smile, and we will try to bear
The piercing winter frost, and winds, and darkened air.

Autumn leaves damp beneath the first snowfall.


PEACOCK QUEEN 2007
In dramatic contrast to the soft innocence of Snow White and the dew-kissed freshness of her sister, Rose Red, this is a blood red, voluptuous rose, velvet-petaled, at the height of bloom. Haughty and imperious, vain, yet incomparably lovely to the eye, but thick with thorns of jealousy, pride and hatred.


ROSE RED 2007
The perfected winter rose, dew covered and freshly cut.


THE SHIVERING BOY
Cold, cold forever more. A winter storm roaring through empty stone halls, bearing echoes of despair, desolation, and death on its winds. The scent of frozen, dormant vineyards, bitter sleet, and piercing ozone, hurled through labdanum, benzoin, and olibanum.


THE SNOW STORM
Announced by all the trumpets of the sky
Arrives the snow, and, driving o'er the fields,
Seems nowhere to alight: the whited air
Hides hills and woods, the river and the heaven,
And veils the farm-house at the garden's end.
The steed and traveller stopped, the courier's feet
Delayed, all friends shut out, the housemates sit
Around the radiant fireplace, enclosed
In a tumultuous privacy of storm.
Come, see the north wind's masonry.
Out of an unseen quarry evermore
Furnished with tile, the fierce artificer
Curves his white bastions with projected roof
Round every windward stake, or tree, or door.
Speeding, the myriad-handed, his wild work
So fanciful, so savage, naught cares he
For number or proportion. Mockingly
On coop or kennel he hangs Parian wreaths;
A swan-like form invests the hidden thorn;
Fills up the farmer's lane from wall to wall,
Maugre the farmer's sighs, and at the gate
A tapering turret overtops the work.
And when his hours are numbered, and the world
Is all his own, retiring, as he were not,
Leaves, when the sun appears, astonished Art
To mimic in slow structures, stone by stone
Built in an age, the mad wind's night-work,
The frolic architecture of the snow.

Winter aconite, balsam fir, cedar leaf, and white mint.


SNOW WHITE 2007
A chilly, bright perfume: flurries of virgin snow, crisp winter wind and the faintest breath of night-blooming flowers.



All of our Yule seasonal blends are $18.00 each. Rose Red, Snow White, and the Peacock Queen can be purchased together for $52.00US.

The Halloween blends will be available until November 15, 2007, and the Yule blends will be available until January 15, 2007.

A portion of every sale of our Yule holiday perfumes will benefit AIDS Project Los Angeles.

AIDS Project Los Angeles is dedicated to improving the lives of people affected by HIV disease, reducing the incidence of HIV infection, and advocating for fair and effective HIV-related public policy.

On the topic of charitable causes, on October 25th, the next Lunacy set will be live, along with Sagittarius and the newest Gaiman and Gaiman / Pratchett scents! As you know, the Neil Gaiman series and the Stardust series are a not-for-profit project whose proceeds go to the CBLDF, and the Good Omens series is a not-for-profit project that benefits the Orangutan Foundation UK.

To date, we have raised over $22,000 for the CBLDF and over $3000 for the orangutans!


HOLIDAY SHIPPING INFORMATION
Orders placed after November 15, 2007 are not guaranteed to arrive before Christmas. Please understand that the mention of Christmas, as opposed to Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Diwali, or any other winter holiday is in now way a slam on faiths other than Christianity or a snub of the winter holidays of other cultures. For the sake of retail sanity, we simply have to mention ship-times during this season with relation to Christmas. Please do not tar and feather us.


SOUTHERN BELLES AND GENTLEMEN! Please visit our newest retailer, Whole Foods in Roswell, GA.

Whole Foods Market
aka Harry's Farmer's Market
1180 Upper Hembree Rd.
Roswell, GA
770.664.6300

Located in the Whole Body Department

At this time, they are currently they are carrying 12 of our general catalog scents.

If you get the chance, please pay them a visit. We love the guys at Whole Foods. They're wonderful people, a joy to work with, and we are proud to work with a company that espouses such a high ethical standards and gives so much back to the community. We will be working with them to try and accommodate BPAL and BPTP special orders, so stop by WF, say hello, and sniff some BPAL in person!

A quick shout out before I collapse and / or start playing WOW: love and adoration for Julia at Arcana Soaps from Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab! She is a wonderful woman with a hell of a kick-ass product line. Between Arcana and Black Phoenix, no little kid will go without coal and candy in their stockings this year!





From the 25 September 2007 update:

The Beaver Moon update is live!

BEAVER MOON
Traditionally, Beaver Moon is named thus for a very obvious reason: during this time of year, beavers are hard at work building their dams and preparing for the onset of winter. However, we at BPAL rarely let an opportunity for sleazy campiness pass us by! For your pleasure and amusement, we present this year's incarnation of Beaver Moon: wild cherry with vanilla cream accord, and a hint of strawberry.


SWAN MAIDEN
Silent, 0 Moyle, be the roar of thy water;
Break not, ye breezes, your chain of repose,
While, murmuring mournfully, Lir's lovely daughter
Tells to the night-star the tale of her woes.
When shall the swan, her death-note singing,
Sleep with wings in darkness furl'd?
When will heaven, its sweet bells ringing,
Call my spirit from this stormy world?
Sadly, 0 Moyle, to thy winter-wave weeping,
Fate bids me languish long ages away;
Yet still in her darkness doth Erin lie sleeping,
Still doth the pure light its dawning delay.
When will that day-star, mildly springing,
Warm our isle with peace and love?
Call my spirit to the fields above?

White gardenia, white iris, sandalwood, calla lily, French magnolia, muguet, jonquil, and orchid.


SCORPIO 2007
Suspiciendo Despicio: Scorpio 2007 - 5ml
Fixed Water: the essence of passion.

Dark musk, wormwood, basil, dragon's blood resin, galangal, and opoponax.



Also live this month, Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab scents inspired by Shojo Beat!


MIDNIGHT KISS
Eternal desire, unquenchable passion: red musk, cocoa absolute, Nepalese amber, red sandalwood, aged patchouli, nicotiana, and blood wine.


VAMPIRE TEARS
Regret born from ceaseless longing: wisteria, white grapefruit, neroli, green tea, jasmine, white ginger, honeysuckle, iris, and tonka.


The Shojo Beat scents, Midnight Kiss and Vampire Tears, will be available while supplies last.


Four new pirate-themed scents have been added to the general catalogue:

++ WANDERLUST
ÎLE DE LA TORTUE
Home to the Brethren of the Coast and a notorious safe-haven for pirates, this island was once described as the common place of refuge for all sorts of wickedness, the seminary of pirates and thieves.

Damp air trapped in limestone caverns, heady greenery, hothouse orchids, nicotiana blossoms, bois de chandel, elemi, palm wine, garambullo, pega-pega, flame of the forest, and a swirl of Haitian vetiver.


WINDWARD PASSAGE
Breezes blowing off of the waters of the Caribbean: marine accord, seaweed, and bladderwrack.



++ BEWITCHING BREWS
KILL-DEVIL
"Rum punch is not improperly called Kill-Devil; for thousands lose their lives by its means. When newcomers use it to the least excess, they expose themselves to imminent peril, for it heats the blood and brings on fevers, which in a very few hours send them to their graves."

Sugar cane, molasses, oak wood, and honey.


PLUNDER
The scent of a pirate's bumboat, overflowing with stolen wares: tea leaf, cassia, cinnamon bark, clove, allspice, sandalwood, tobacco, peppercorn, and nutmeg.



There will be an update in early October that will feature the Yuletide scents, new scents for the Neil Gaiman collections, new products at Black Phoenix Trading Post, and a little more this and that. The next act of Carnaval Diabolique will be up and running soon, likely midwinter.



From the 26 August 2007 update:

Happy Halloween, ladies and gents! New, for the holiday season

++ LUNACY
HUNTER MOON
As the winter encroaches, the time comes to embark on the last Great Hunts of the year. The deer are fattened, the fields have been reaped, and the light of the full moon illuminates the wild creatures that have come out to glean. This scent is redolent of night skies, falling leaves, and the high-pitched tension and release associated with the Hunt. Dry leaves, autumn bonfires, blood red wine, feral, animalistic notes and the chill of approaching winter.


AEAEA
This is her island squared in cypress lines;
With cedar ranks about her alley walks
Set frequent, and the faces of the boles
Are crimson, deep as sunset stains of cloud.
The floor between them, rank and overgrown,
Is tangled with luxuriant heads of bloom,
All in a mat together, mixed with sedge.
There are bells of some wide wine-deep flowers,
Great apple fruits and tawny orange globes;
And bunchy cactus tipped in fire-bright buds.
Grey aloe spikes and heavy curling vines,
And speckled poison berries intertwined.
Her groves lead down upon the light free waves;
Her foam-heads dance and ripple into sound.
The laughter of many birds is in her elms
Jays, owls, sea-crows, larks, lapwings, nightingales,
As jumbled as the flowers beneath their notes.
The isle-grove ends abruptly on the sea,
A stranded star-fish neighbors by the sward,
Where the snail toils beneath his painted walls.
Small seaward gust irresolute breathe near;
And sweeter waftings, sent from the middle brine,
Stir the deep grasses at her perfect feet,
Where Circe, shining down the gaudy flowers,
Leans centre-light of all this paradise.
One ankle gleams against the margin turf,
Just beyond where the wave-teeth cease to bite.
And the sea-pinks grow less rosy at her feet.

But this enchantress, island-queen, herself
Bears on her head a bright tire marvelous,
And for a girdle one of many dyes
Woven and traced with curious pattern-spells.
Her face is not at first so beautiful,
That one should say 'Fear her, she will slay men
And draw them into deaths by her strange ways,
And some soft snare hid under all of her.'
We must consider well upon her face,
And the silent beauty of it all
Begins upon us, grows and greatens on,
Like sweet increasing music, chord on chord,
Till all our being falters overthrown;
And she lures out our soul into her hands,
As faint and helpless as a new-born babe,
To have her will and way with all of it.

O, she, this Circe mage, is strange and great,
And deadlier than those terrible bright forms,
That beam out on us with their grace.
Her love eats deeper to the core of men,
Scathing and killing, fierce and unappeased;
Until not only the divine in us,
But all the human also (which indeed
Are one, tho' this less perfect) fade and change,
And fall corrupted into alien forms.
Till we resemble those strange-headed things,
Herded away behind her island throne,
Chimaeras, tiger-apes, and wolfish swine.

A dark ocean breeze, electric with adrenaline, magic, and fear, clashing with the thick scent of poisoned berries and spiny aloe, against a backdrop of snowdrop, cedar, and cypress.


LIBRA 2007
Cardinal air: the essence of balance.
Rose, black cherry, carnation, fig, honey, plum, and black currant.



++ HALLOWEEN BLENDS
ALL SOULS 2007
A day of remembrance and intercession. Without the prayers and sacrifices of their families and loved ones, the faithful departed may not be cleansed of their venal sins, and thereby cannot attain beatific vision. On November 2nd, prayers are sung and offerings are made to aid lost souls in transcending purgatory. An incense blend that invokes the higher qualities of mercy and compassion, mingled with the soft, sugared currant scent of offertory soul cakes.


BONFIRE NIGHT
Guy Fawkes, Guy;
Stick him up on high!
Hang him on a lamp post
And there let him die!
Guy, Guy, Guy!
Poke Him in the eye!
Put him on the fire,
And there let him die!
Burn his body from his head:
Then you'll say
Guy Fawkes is dead!
Hip, Hip, Hooray!

Beer, woodsmoke, tar, and treacle.


THE DEATH OF AUTUMN
When reeds are dead and a straw to thatch the marshes,
And feathered pampas-grass rides into the wind
Like aged warriors westward, tragic, thinned
Of half their tribe, and over the flattened rushes,
Stripped of its secret, open, stark and bleak,
Blackens afar the half-forgotten creek, --
Then leans on me the weight of the year, and crushes
My heart. I know that Beauty must ail and die,
And will be born again, -- but ah, to see
Beauty stiffened, staring up at the sky!
Oh, Autumn! Autumn! -- What is the Spring to me?

Dark amber, dead leaves, khus, saffron, bitter clove, chrysanthemum, camellia, galangal, and a drop of oud.


DIA DE LOS MUERTOS 2007
A joyous celebration of La Catarina, La Flaca, La Muerte Glorious, Beautiful Death. In Mexico, death is not something to be feared or hated; She is embraced, loved, and adored. La Muerte is fêted, as the celebrant " chases after it, mocks it, courts it, hugs it, sleeps with it; it is his favorite plaything and his most lasting love." This is a Mexican paean to La Huesuda: dry, crackling leaves, the incense smoke of altars honoring Death and the Dead, funeral bouquets, the candies, chocolates, foods and tobacco of the ofrenda, amaranth, sweet cactus blossom and desert cereus.


OCTOBER
AY, thou art welcome, heaven's delicious breath!
When woods begin to wear the crimson leaf,
And suns grow meek, and the meek suns grow brief
And the year smiles as it draws near its death.
Wind of the sunny south! oh, still delay
In the gay woods and in the golden air,
Like to a good old age released from care,
Journeying, in long serenity, away.
In such a bright, late quiet, would that I
Might wear out life like thee, 'mid bowers and brooks
And dearer yet, the sunshine of kind looks,
And music of kind voices ever nigh;
And when my last sand twinkled in the glass,
Pass silently from men, as thou dost pass.

Dry, cold autumn wind. A rustle of red leaves, a touch of smoke and sap in the air.


SAMHAIN 2007
Truly the scent of autumn itself -- damp woods, fir needle, and black patchouli with the gentlest touches of warm pumpkin, clove, nutmeg, allspice, sweet red apple and mullein.


SAMHAINOPHOBIA 2007
The fear of Halloween. Menacing Haitian vetiver, patchouli, and clove with a shock of bourbon geranium, grim oakmoss, and dread-inspiring balsams pierce the innocuous scent of autumn leaves.



++ HALLOWEEN: the HAUNTED HOUSE
We're going back to our campy, spooky roots with the Haunted House Collection! Seven Guignolesque, chilling atmospheric blends are being offered for your pleasure and amusement.

THE ATROCIOUS ATTIC
A shadowy shrine filled with forgotten toys, broken dolls. The altar: a collapsing trunk distended by a rotted wedding gown. The air of the room is dusty, laced with the scent of a child's perfume and the remnants of a dried, crumbling bridal bouquet: tea rose, violet, white sandalwood, French lavender, and Calla lily.

THE CHILLING CELLAR
Wine just turning to vinegar, crumbling mortar, red clay, and the coppery tang of old blood.

THE FORBIDDING FOYER
Thick shadows hang heavy across fungus-smeared, dilapidated wainscoting, cobwebs hang like fine lace across sagging mouldings, rats scuttle past gaping doorways. The faint scent of brimstone, ghostly breath laced with cognac, neglected mahogany panels, and rot.

THE GHASTLY GARDEN
Overgrown oleander, marshy water hemlock, the sugared nectar of carnivorous blooms, putrefying wet greenery, oozing sap, crushed rosary peas, withered climbing roses, and nightshade berries.

THE LURID LIBRARY
The incense-tinged scent of forbidden tomes and the musk-laden remnants of infernal servants.

THE PERILOUS PARLOR
A memory of pleasure passed. A ghostly rendezvous, delight beyond death. Faint echoes of laughter and the distorted music of a harp drift by, along with the scent of soft white pear and sweet vanilla.

THE TWISTED OAK TREE
Blackened, rotted oak wood blanketed in moss and choked by a cloak of grasping ivy.



++ HALLOWEEN: the PUMPKIN PATCH
The 'Patch is back, with five new pumpkin blends to choose from. Pick individual pumpkins from the field, or snatch up the whole bushel!

PUMPKIN I
Pumpkin with pear, white wine grapes, and jasmine-laced tea.

PUMPKIN II
Pumpkin with tobacco, champaca flower, carnation, and tonka.

PUMPKIN III
Pumpkin with white chocolate, caramel, pomegranate, and cream.

PUMPKIN IV
Pumpkin with cactus blossom, sage, and sweetgrass.
PUMPKIN V
Pumpkin with benzoin, bourbon vanilla, lemon peel, neroli, blood orange, and red ginger.

PUMPKIN PLUNDER
If you purchase Pumpkin Plunder, you will receive an imp of a Murder of Crows: a scent created to compliment and complete the collection. What is a pumpkin field without crows?

A Murder of Crows
Sleek iris and verbena, grey amber, benzoin, davana, and glossy herbs.




The general catalogue also has a few new additions:


++ BEWITCHING BREWS
EVENT HORIZON
A disconcerting scent, heavy and oppressive, through which no light, no matter, and no spirit can escape. Black opium, labdanum, opoponax, black orchid, and benzoin.


MARY READ
Salt air, ocean mist, aged patchouli, sarsaparilla, watered-down rum, leather-tinged musk, and a spray of gunpowder.


SCHRODINGER'S CAT
One can even set up quite ridiculous cases. A cat is penned up in a steel chamber, along with the following diabolical device (which must be secured against direct interference by the cat): in a Geiger counter there is a tiny bit of radioactive substance, so small that perhaps in the course of one hour one of the atoms decays, but also, with equal probability, perhaps none; if it happens, the counter tube discharges and through a relay releases a hammer which shatters a small flask of hydrocyanic acid. If one has left this entire system to itself for an hour, one would say that the cat still lives if meanwhile no atom has decayed. The first atomic decay would have poisoned it. The Psi function for the entire system would express this by having in it the living and the dead cat (pardon the expression) mixed or smeared out in equal parts. It is typical of these cases that an indeterminacy originally restricted to the atomic domain becomes transformed into macroscopic indeterminacy, which can then be resolved by direct observation. That prevents us from so naively accepting as valid a "blurred model" for representing reality. In itself it would not embody anything unclear or contradictory. There is a difference between a shaky or out-of-focus photograph and a snapshot of clouds and fog banks.

A paradoxical scent experiment! - tangerine, sugared lime, pink grapefruit, oakmoss, lavender, zdravetz, and chocolate peppermint.


No cats were mistreated during the formulation of this paradox, or in the process of creating this perfume.


KUBLA KHAN
In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree:
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless to man
Down to a sunless sea.

So twice five miles of fertile ground
With walls and towers were girdled round:
And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills,
Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree;
And here were forests ancient as the hills,
Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.

But oh! that deep romantic chasm which slanted
Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover!
A savage place! as holy and enchanted
As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted
By woman wailing for her demon-lover!
And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,
As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing,
A mighty fountain momently was forced:
Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst
Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail,
Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher's flail:
And 'mid these dancing rocks at once and ever
It flung up momently the sacred river.
Five miles meandering with a mazy motion
Through wood and dale the sacred river ran,
Then reached the caverns measureless to man,
And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean:
And 'mid this tumult Kubla heard from far
Ancestral voices prophesying war!

The shadow of the dome of pleasure
Floated midway on the waves;
Where was heard the mingled measure
From the fountain and the caves.
It was a miracle of rare device,
A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice!

A damsel with a dulcimer
In a vision once I saw:
It was an Abyssinian maid,
And on her dulcimer she played,
Singing of Mount Abora.
Could I revive within me
Her symphony and song,
To such a deep delight 'twould win me
That with music loud and long
I would build that dome in air,
That sunny dome! those caves of ice!
And all who heard should see them there,
And all should cry, Beware! Beware!
His flashing eyes, his floating hair!
Weave a circle round him thrice,
And close your eyes with holy dread,
For he on honey-dew hath fed
And drunk the milk of Paradise.

Through sunlit caves of ice, roses unfurl amidst dancing waves of serpentine opium smoke and amber tobacco, golden sandalwood, champaca, tea leaf, sugared lily, ginger, rich hay absolute, leather, dark vanilla, mandarin, peru balsam, and Moroccan jasmine.



++ ARS MORIENDI
EPITAPH
Heap not on this mound
Roses that she loved so well:
Why bewilder her with roses,
That she cannot see or smell?

She is happy where she lies
With the dust upon her eyes.

Roses and funeral lilies perceived, faintly, through an indistinct, ghostly mist.


THE PHANTOM WOOER
A ghost, that loved a lady fair,
Ever in the starry air
Of midnight at her pillow stood;
And, with a sweetness skies above
The luring words of human love,
Her soul the phantom wooed.
Sweet and sweet is their poisoned note,
The little snakes' of silver throat,
In mossy skulls that nest and lie,
Ever singing "die, oh! die."

Young soul, put off your flesh, and come
With me into the quiet tomb,
Our bed is lovely, dark, and sweet;
The earth will swing us, as she goes,
Beneath our coverlid of snows,
And the warm leaden sheet.

Dear and dear is their poisoned note,
The little snakes' of silver throat,
In mossy skulls that nest and lie,
Ever singing "die, oh! die."

A lifeless love song: stargazer lily, bone dust, tomb mosses, buttonweed, moonflower, and honey myrtle.



++ DIABOLUS
A COUNTENANCE FORBODING EVIL
Thy gloomy features, like a midnight dial,
Scowl the dark index of a fearful hour.

Patchouli, ylang ylang, blood orange, and vetiver.


GOBLIN
Dab a bit behind each ear, and you'll be instantly inspired to alter street signs, shake fruit from your neighbor's trees, and hide your roommate's car keys. Black coconut, gnarly patchouli, and sweet benzoin.


INCUBUS
As if, with beasts' eyes, angels led
The way, I slip back to your bed,
Quiet as a hooded light,
Hushed by the shadows of the night.

And then, my dark one, you shall soon
Embrace the cold beams of the moon,
Around a fresh grave, the chilling hiss
Of serpent coiled shall be my kiss.

When morning shows his livid face
Your bed shall feel my empty place,
As cold as death, till fall of night.

Others take tenderness to wife:
Dread gives away your youth and life
To me, to be bride of fright.

Spectral white musk and the heart-stopping chill of sheared mint, fanned by caramel-touched body heat, and the diabolical sensuality of black musk, nicotiana, and sage.


TROLL
They call me Troll;
Gnawer of the Moon,
Giant of the Gale-blasts,
Curse of the rain-hall,
Companion of the Sibyl,
Nightroaming hag,
Swallower of the loaf of heaven.
What is a Troll but that?

A lurching, hateful, bitter scent. This is a gruesome blend of ghastly greens and blacks: vetiver, pine pitch, troll musk, black basil, clove smoke, and scorched cumin.



++ RAPPACCINI'S GARDEN
HAIRY TOAD LILY
Spotty, hairy, purple, sweet!



++ WANDERLUST
HAVANA
Date palm, dried tobacco, snakeroot, and leather.



++ EXCOLO
HI'IAKA
Sister to Pele, Patroness of Hula Dancers, she is a Lady of Hawa'ii, and is caretaker, mother, and beloved of the land itself. The heart of the forest beats along with Her dance, and the air is suffused with Her scent: mai'a, hibiscus, white ginger, akala, na'u, Hawaiian moon flower, yellow ilima, pink lokelani, jewel orchid, and fringed orchid.




As I mentioned before, over the next few months, there is going to be a lot of movement on the Black Phoenix site. This month, the Voodoo Blends section was been assimilated into Bewitching Brews to make some room for an upcoming category: Märchen. Sometimes I think BB should be subcategorized completely, but I still haven't made my mind up about it. The pirates really should get their own subsection. Or section. Its hard being a Pisces sometimes. I think to myself.. is it weird that Mata Hari is hanging out with the Jersey Devil?

Some additional information...
Hunter Moon and Aeaea are $17.50, and Libra 2007 is $20.00.
Hunter Moon, Aeaea, and Libra 2007 will be live until Wednesday, August 29, 2007.

All of our Halloween seasonal blends, including the Haunted House scents and the Pumpkins are $17.50 each. The Haunted House can be purchased in a full set for $120, and the Pumpkin Patch can be purchased in a full set for $86. Purchase of a Pumpkin Plunder set (the complete collection of Pumpkins) comes with an imp's ear of Murder of Crows.

The Halloween blends will be available until November 15, 2007.

Orders placed after October 7, 2007 are not guaranteed to arrive before Halloween.



And here's what's new at Black Phoenix Trading Post! -

+ LUNACY
First things first! For your pleasure, we are offering this month's Lunacy tee in three styles: chocolate brown crew neck, chocolate brown babydoll v-neck, and heather green babydoll ringer.



Hunter Moon will be available until Thursday, August 30.


+ HALLOWEEN: TRICK OR TREAT
It may be August, but here at the Trading Post, the Halloween season is starting! This means, of course, that the Trick or Treat Inquisition is back!



What'll it be this year, kids?
Will you be gorging yourself on candy or cleaning egg off of your front door?
Let the Alchemy Lab Imps and Trading Post Goblins decide!


+ HALLOWEEN: LIMITED EDITION SOAPS
Silk Road Trading Company and Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab have come together to create a miniseries of gleefully creepy soaps just in time for Halloween!



Soaps have been created with two of Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab's most popular Halloween blends: Samhain and Sugar Skull. The scents Cauldron Gunk and Pumpkin were formulated specifically for this project.

Your skin will be silky, you will smell spooky'riffic, and your conscience will be clean, too!

100 bars have been made of each scent, and once they're gone, they're gone.


+ HALLOWEEN: LIMITED EDITION CRYPT QUEEN PERFUME AND COFFIN SET
The oil is presented in a sturdy gold-gilded resin coffin unique to Black Phoenix Trading Post. The coffin is 2 3/4" wide x 5 1/2" long x 2" deep, and can hold at least 45 imp's ears laid out in repose.



CRYPT QUEEN
As sweet as death, as deep as the grave: pomegranate, raspberry, gardenia, plum, and rose with patchouli, black pepper, rose musk, and a hint of blood accord.

Available while supplies last.



Also new at Black Phoenix Trading Post

++ BLACK PHOENIX MASSAGE OILS
These gentle, balancing massage oils were created with the finest environmentally-responsible and body-friendly ingredients. They are vegan, and are blissfully lacking in harsh chemicals or unwholesome fillers. Our massage oils are paraben and formaldehyde free, and do not contain sodium lauryl or sodium laureth sulfate. Our labels are printed on an Earth-friendly corn biopolymer.

These luxurious oils absorb well, granting you the power of the aromatherapeutic properties of the essential oils, as well as the healing and soothing aspects of the base oils' health-affirming properties.

and the smooth, even texture of the blends are easy on your masseuse's hands!

Handmade by Black Phoenix. As always, no animals were harmed during the creation of this product, and all products were tested on friends and family.


++ BLACK PHOENIX NAIL POLISH
Synesthesia! These are our interpretations of Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab perfumes, expressed through color.

Black Phoenix nail lacquer is quick drying and chip resistant. Our formula is free of toluene, DBP, and formaldehyde, providing you with excellent long-lasting color without sacrificing your health or the environment to do so!




... and that's that!



From the 24 July 2007 update:

As you guys may know, many of the Labbies make an annual pilgrimage to the San Diego Comic Con. This one happens to overlap with a full moon, so Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab and Black Phoenix Trading Post are putting up their Lunacy offerings a little early. The scents and shirt will be live on their respective sites from 7/24 til 7/31.

The tee:


The scents:
SINGING MOON
Green, in the wizard arms
Of the foam-bearded Atlantic,
An isle of old enchantment,
A melancholy isle,
Enchanted and dreaming lies;
And there, by Shannon's flowing,
In the moonlight, spectre-thin,
The spectre Erin sits.

An aged desolation,
She sits by old Shannon's flowing,
A mother of many children,
Of children exiled and dead,
In her home, with bent head, homeless,
Clasping her knees she sits,
Keening, keening!

And at her keen the fairy-grass
Trembles on dun and barrow;
Around the foot of her ancient crosses
The grave-grass shakes and the nettle swings;
In haunted glens the meadow-sweet
Flings to the night wind
Her mystic mournful perfume;
The sad spearmint by holy wells
Breathes melancholy balm.
Sometimes she lifts her head,
With blue eyes tearless,
And gazes athwart the reek of night
Upon things long past,
Upon things to come.

And sometimes, when the moon
Brings tempest upon the deep,
The roused Atlantic thunders from his caverns in the west,
The wolfhound at her feet
Springs up with a mighty bay,
And chords of mystery sound from the wild harp at her side,
Strung from the hearts of poets;
And she flies on the wings of tempest
With grey hair streaming:
A meteor of evil omen,
The spectre of hope forlorn,
Keening, keening!

She keens, and the strings of her wild harp shiver
On the gusts of night:
O'er the four waters she keens-over Moyle she keens,
O'er the Sea of Milith, and the Strait of Strongbow,
And the Ocean of Columbus.

And the Fianna hear, and the ghosts of her cloudy hovering heroes;
And the swan, Fianoula, wails o'er the waters of Inisfail,
Chanting her song of destiny,
The rune of weaving Fates.
And the nations hear in the void and quaking time of night,
Sad unto dawning, dirges,
Solemn dirges,
And snatches of bardic song;
Their souls quake in the void and quaking time of night,
And they dream of the weird of kings,
And tyrannies moulting, sick,
In the dreadful wind of change.

Wail no more, lonely one, mother of exiles, wail no more,
Banshee of the world-no more!
The sorrows are the world's, though art no more alone;
Thy wrongs, the world's.

Moonlight over grave grass, meadowsweet, marsh hellebore, rock sea-lavender, Irish Lady's-tresses, melancholy thistle, and wood bitter-vetch, with the scent of autumn fires in the distance, sprayed by wind howling over the Atlantic.


THE EMATHIDES
The chosen Muse here ends her sacred lays;
The nymphs unanimous decree the bays,
And give the Heliconian Goddesses the praise.
Then, far from vain that we shou'd thus prevail,
But much provok'd to hear the vanquish'd rail,
Calliope resumes: Too long we've born
Your daring taunts, and your affronting scorn;
Your challenge justly merited a curse,
And this unmanner'd railing makes it worse.
Since you refuse us calmly to enjoy
Our patience, next our passions we'll employ;
The dictates of a mind enrag'd pursue,
And, what our just resentment bids us, do.

The railers laugh, our threats and wrath despise,
And clap their hands, and make a scolding noise:
But in the fact they're seiz'd; beneath their nails
Feathers they feel, and on their faces scales;
Their horny beaks at once each other scare,
Their arms are plum'd, and on their backs they bear
Py'd wings, and flutter in the fleeting air.
Chatt'ring, the scandal of the woods they fly,
And there continue still their clam'rous cry:
The same their eloquence, as maids, or birds,
Now only noise, and nothing then but words.

Gleaming eyes, screeching voices, glistening wings: black amber, black orchid, black currant, olive blossom, wood violet, lavender, blue musk, rose attar, and cedar.


VIRGO 2007
Mutable earth: the essence of analysis.
Fennel, valerian, maidenhair fern, carrot seed, honeysuckle, and myrtle.


Tonight, some of our 4oz memorabilia bottles will be going up on eBay.

If you're going to the Con, please stop by the Comic Book Legal Defense Fund charity auction or come by their booth (1831). Your shopping thirst will be slaked, and the money will go to a very, very worthy cause!

Fret not: while some of us are at Comic Con, it will still be business as usual at Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab. Emails will be answered, orders will be packed and shipped.





From the Friday the 13th update:

13 is live! 13, the Sportive Sun, and the Gibbous Moon will be live until July 15, 2007.



From the 29 July 2007 update:

Is it hot where you are? Its scorching here already!

This month's Lunacies:

RED MOON
August is a month of reflection. It is the month of rest before the harvest, and it holds for us a time between toils, a brief period of relaxation before we take up the burden of our work again. It is the Time of the Phoenix, a season of celebrating health, vitality, warmth and joy, but it is also the time at which the Corn God dies for the sake of the land, his blood soaking the earth to ensure a bountiful harvest in the fall.

The Full Red Moon of August was named thus by some Native American tribes because as the moon rises, it dons a reddish veil, visible through the hot, sweltering summer evening haze. Our blend for this Moon mixes traditional lunar oils with the warmth of amber, red musk, and heliotrope, the russet haze of dragon's blood resin, sunflower, and crushed orange peel, with a dusting of summertime herbs: chamomile, rue, elder flower and marigold.


ALLISON GROSS
O ALLISON GROSS, that lives in yon towr,
The ugliest witch i' the north country,
Has trysted me ae day up till her bowr,
An monny fair speech she made to me.
She stroaked my head, an she kembed my hair,
An she set me down saftly on her knee;
Says, Gin ye will be my lemman so true,
Sae monny braw things as I woud you gi.
She showd me a mantle o red scarlet,
Wi gouden flowrs an fringes fine;
Says, Gin ye will be my lemman so true,
This goodly gift it sal be thine.
'Awa, awa, ye ugly witch,
Haud far awa, an lat me be;
I never will be your lemman sae true,
An I wish I were out o your company.'
She neist brought a sark o the saftest silk,
Well wrought wi pearles about the ban;
Says, Gin you will be my ain true love,
This goodly gift you sal comman.
She showd me a cup of the good red gold,
Well set wi jewls sae fair to see;
Says, Gin you will be my lemman sae true,
This goodly gift I will you gi.
'Awa, awa, ye ugly witch,
Had far awa, and lat me be;
For I woudna ance kiss your ugly mouth
For a' the gifts that ye coud gi.'
She's turnd her right and roun about,
An thrice she blaw on a grass-green horn,
An she sware by the meen and the stars abeen,
That she'd gar me rue the day I was born.
Then out has she taen a silver wand,
An she's turnd her three times roun an roun;
She's mutterd sich words till my strength it faild,
An I fell down senceless upon the groun.
She's turnd me into an ugly worm,
And gard me toddle about the tree;
An ay, on ilka Saturdays night,
My sister Maisry came to me,
Wi silver bason an silver kemb,
To kemb my heady upon her knee;
But or I had kissd her ugly mouth,
I'd rather a toddled about the tree.
But as it fell out on last Hallow-even,
When the Seely court was ridin by,
The queen lighted down on a gowany bank,
Nae far frae the tree where I wont to lye.
She took me up in her milk-white han,
An she's stroakd me three times oer her knee;
She chang'd me again to my ain proper shape,
An I nae mair maun toddle about the tree.

Witch-herbs, crushed golden flowers, and a man-made-dragon's surly musk lightened by the scent of the blossoms and unearthly incense that clings to the Faerie Queen's hair. Dragon's blood musk, ambergris, sunflower, chrysanthemum, muguet, and rue, with gingered lily, moonflower, bluebell, peony, nightwort, and white rose.


And this month's astrological blend:

LEO
Fixed Fire: the essence of pride.
Egyptian amber, walnut bark, chamomile, frankincense, and saffron.


Red Moon 2007, Allison Gross, and Leo will be live until July 2, 2007.

Two other Limited Edition scents are live:


Mine are the night and morning,
The pits of air, the gulf of space,
The sportive sun, the gibbous moon,
The innumerable days.

I hid in the solar glory,
I am dumb in the pealing song,
I rest on the pitch of the torrent,
In slumber I am strong.

THE SPORTIVE SUN
Heliotrope, amber, almond flower, frangipani, cedar, and calamus.

THE GIBBOUS MOON
Moonflower, Madonna lily, orris, white ginger, cucumber, hyacinth, and Irish moss.


The Sun and Moon will be live until July 15, 2007.


- - -

Aaaaaaaaaaaand two new sections have been added to the site: GOOD OMENS AND STARDUST!

++ GOOD OMENS
AGNES NUTTER
The mind of Agnes Nutter was so far adrift in Time that she was considered pretty mad even by the standards of seventeenth-century Lancashire, where mad prophetesses were a growth industry.

Gunpowder, charred wood, smoke, and rusty nails.


AZIRAPHALE
Many people, meeting Aziraphale for the first time, formed three impressions: that he was English, that he was intelligent, and that he was gayer than a tree full of monkeys on nitrous oxide. Two of these were wrong; Heaven is not England, whatever certain poets may have thought, and angels are sexless unless they really want to make an effort.

Ethereal musk, blonde woods, and dusty Bible accord.


CROWLEY
Nothing about him looked particularly demonic, at least by classical standards. No horns, no wings. Admittedly he was listening to a Best of Queen tape, but no conclusions should be drawn from this because all tapes left in a car for more than a fortnights metamorphose into Best of Queen albums. No particularly demonic thoughts were going through his head. In fact, he was wondering vaguely who Moey and Chandon were.

Crowley had dark hair, and good cheekbones, and he was wearing snakeskin shoes, or at least presumably he was wearing shoes, and he could do really weird things with his tongue. And, whenever he forgot himself, he had a tendency to hiss.

Infernal musk, red patchouli, lilac cologne, mahogany, lemon rind, oakmoss, leather, and vanilla husk.


SHADWELL
Shadwell had turned out to be about five feet high and wore clothes which, no matter what they actually were, always turned up in your short-term memory as an old mackintosh. The old man may have all his own teeth, but only because no-one else could possibly have wanted them; just one of them, placed under the pillow, would have made the Tooth Fairy hand in its wand.

He appeared to live entirely on sweet tea, condensed milk, hand-rolled cigarettes, and a sort of sullen internal energy. Shadwell had a Cause, while he followed with the full resources of his soul and his Pensioner's Concessionary Travel Pass. He believed in it. It powered him like a turbine.

Roll-ups, mildewed raincoat, sweet tea, and condensed milk.


WAR
She finished the drink, hefted the sword over one shoulder, and looked around at the puzzled factions, who now encircled her completely. 'Sorry to run out on you, chaps,' she said. 'Would love to stay and get to know you better.'

The men in the room suddenly realized they didn't want to know her better. She was beautiful, but she was beautiful in the way a forest fire was beautiful: something to be admired from a distance, but not up close.

And she held her sword, and she smiled like a knife.

Red ginger, black spices, patchouli, honeysuckle, and three blood-soaked red musks.



++ STARDUST
FAIRY MARKET
"Eyes, eyes! New eyes for old!" shouted a tiny woman in front of a table covered with bottles and jars filled with eyes of every kind and color.

"Instruments of music from a hundred lands!"

"Penny whistles! Tuppenny hums! Threepenny choral anthems!"

"Try your luck! Step right up! Answer a simple riddle and win a wind-flower!"

"Everlasting lavender! Bluebell cloth!"

"Bottled dreams, a shilling a bottle!"

"Coats of night! Coats of twilight! Coats of dusk!"

"Swords of fortune! Wands of power! Rings of eternity! Cards of grace! Roll-up, roll-up, step this way!"

"Salves and ointments, philtres and nostrums!"

Otherworldy golden incense, blooming wind-flowers, everlasting lavender, bluebell, a faint whiff of exotic sugared candies, and fae mist upon wet green grass.


TRISTRAN
Tristran put down his wooden cup of tea, and stood up, offended.

"What," he asked, in what he was certain were lofty and scornful tones, "would possibly make you imagine that my lady-love would have sent me on some foolish errand?"

The little man stared up at him with eyes like beads of jet. "Because that's the only reason a lad like you would be stupid enough to cross the border into Faerie. The only ones who ever come here from your lands are the minstrels, and the lovers, and the mad. And you don't look like much of a minstrel, and you're - pardon me saying so, lad, but it's true - ordinary as cheese-crumbs. So it's love, if you ask me."

"Because," announces Tristran, "every lover is in his heart a madman, and in his head a minstrel."

Dust on your trousers, mud on your boots, and stars in your eyes: redwood, tonka bean, white sandalwood, lemon peel, patchouli, rosewood, coriander, and crushed mint.


VICTORIA
Every boy in the village was in love with Victoria Forester. And many a sedate gentleman, quietly married with grey in his beard, would stare at her as she walked down the street, becoming, for a few moments, a boy once more, in the spring of his years with a spring in his step.

Graceful vanilla musk, tea rose, and stargazer lily.


THE WITCH QUEEN
On a rocky mountain pass, on the southernmost slopes of Mount Belly, the witch-queen reined in her goat-drawn chariot and stopped and sniffed the chilly air.

The myriad stars hung cold in the sky above her.

Her red, red lips curved up into a smile of such beauty, such brilliance, such pure and perfect happiness that it would have frozen your blood in your veins to have seen it. "There," she said. "She is coming to me."

And the wind of the mountain pass howled about her triumphantly, as if in answer.

Wild plum, red musk, tuberose, calla lily, heliotrope, pimento, ylang ylang and beeswax beneath a dark haze of sinister purple-hued incense smoke.


YVAINE
She was sprawled, awkwardly, beneath the hazel tree, and she gazed up at Tristran with a scowl of complete unfriendliness.

She hefted another clod of mud at him, menacingly, but did not throw it.

Her eyes were red and raw. Her hair was so fair it was almost white, her dress was of blue silk which shimmered in the candlelight. She glittered as she sat there.

The high, crystalline scent of a star-filled night with blue lavender and lush magnolia.



I cannot thank Mr. Gaiman, Mr. Pratchett, or the guys at Paramount enough for the trust they have shown us, and a million, trillion thanks to Messrs Gaiman and Pratchett for the opportunity to translate their stories within our medium!

Both the Good Omens and Stardust series are charitable, not-for-profit ventures. Proceeds from every single bottle from the Stardust series go to the Comic Book Legal Defense Fund, and proceeds from every single bottle from the Good Omens series are split between the Comic Book Legal Defense Fund and the Orangutan Foundation UK.

Stardust, the film, will be premiering in the US on August 10, 2007!

Artwork on the Good Omens page is by the lovely Julie Dillon, and the artwork on the Stardust page is by our snugglewumpus, Jennifer Williamson.


- - -

As you have probably noticed, there have been a few changes to the Black Phoenix web site. We're working on a bit of summertime cleaning - polishing up the old, dolling up the new - so, over the next few updates, some of the oft-neglected areas of the site are going to (finally!) be updated, too.

Black Phoenix Trading Post has a hell of an update this month, too!

First off, here be Red Moon - August's Lunacy tee:



We have one small addition to the permanent catalogue. It is the third in our LE Commemorative set, and this one is dedicated to the entire A Little Lunacy series:



Six new soaps have been added to the suds line, courtesy of the fine folks at Silk Road Trading Company:

AL AZIF
BORDELLO
CHESHIRE CAT
MOXIE
PERVERSION
TKO

Due to the cost of the components of the soaps, Moxie and TKO are $10.50 each.

All other soaps are $8.50US.

Within the next few weeks, several garments are being added, as well as an expansion to our bath and body line and some interesting bits of tchotch!

And, as always, there will be more of this, that, and the other (at Alchemy Lab and Trading Post) in the upcoming months!





From the 4 June 2007 update:

We’re going to call this the Bastille Update (thank you, Jeff!).

For a limited time, the following scent will be available on our Limited Edition page:


PRIVILEGE
Polished party-girl sleaze. This is a shameless scent, devoid of caution, regret, or introspection. This perfume reeks of tabloid glamour, and has no substance whatsoever. Armoise, tuberose, white citrus, rose absolute, oakmoss, tiare, tuberose, vanilla, linden, and lemon tree blossom.

Although this scent originated with fine plants and the pure essences, the final result is a grotesque, eerily empty caricature of a debauched, narcissistic would-be debutante.


PRUNO
Jailhouse hooch. Distilled in toilets, this vintage is comprised of chow line droppings, including oranges, apples, ketchup, and sugar.



Is it cruel to commemorate someone’s jail sentence with a festive set of fragrances? Maybe. But it is far fouler to drive drunk, endanger the lives of others, and expect to get away with it because your family has cash.

It is our opinion that everyone should be held accountable for their actions. Period.

These scents will be live for as long as Paris Hilton stays in jail.

Money shouldn’t exempt you from basic human decency, and it certainly shouldn’t shelter you from justice.

(By the way Candy Spelling, we love you!)

In addition to being a celebration of one irresponsible, horrid person’s comeuppance, these scents do go to a good cause albeit, in BPAL’s crass, snotty fashion. A portion of each sale of Privilege and Pruno will be donated to Southern California women’s shelters.


- In the interests of privacy and at least a sliver of good taste, the specific shelters are staying under a veil of anonymity. We hope you understand.



From the May 30, 2007 update:

It’s the Blue Moon, boys and girls!

BLUE MOON
The spirit of the full moon is capricious, intense and passionate, yet still distant, aloof and cold. Luna herself governs glamours, bewitchments and dream-work, innocent wonder, transient pleasure and delight, the Moment, impulse, mystery and veils. The Blue Moon is one of her rarest manifestations, and this scent is formulated to encapsulate her most complex and profound nature:

Mugwort and bay, for psychic sensitivity
Juniper, for divination through dreams
Orchid and galbanum, for complexity, wisdom and noscere

with a potent lunar-charged blend of exquisite Asian woods, moonflower, Madagascan ylang ylang, Florentine iris, Greek cypress, davana, green tea absolute, palmarosa, cucumber, Clary sage, melilot trefoils, wood aloes, and pale creeping buttercup.


July’s thunderstorms are the harbinger of this month’s Lunacy scent: Thunder Moon.


THUNDER MOON
This is the scent of a summer storm: thick black clouds pass over this full moon, the Goddess roars, and Her Beloved hurls his forked bolts of lightning in the distant sky. Ozone deepened by liquid amber, and a spray of hot nighttime rain mingled with the scent of lightning-struck wood, water-soaked summer blooms, and sun-scorched grass.


And this month’s shapeshifter comes to us from Scotland, by way of Norway:

SELKIE
In Norway land there lived a maid,
'Hush bee loo lillie' this maid began;
'I know not where my baby's father is,
Whether by land or sea he does travel in.'

It happened on a certain day
When this fair lady fell fast asleep,
That in cam' a good greay selchie
And set him down at her bed feet,

Sayin' 'Awak, awak, my pretty maid,
For oh, how sound as thou dost sleep!
An' I'll tell thee where thy baby's father is -
He's sittin' close at thy bed feet!'

'I pray, come tell to me thy name,
Oh, tell me where does thy dwelling be?'
'My name it is good Hein Mailer
An' I earn my livin' oot o' the sea.

I am a man upo' the land,
I am a selchie in the sea,
And when I'm far frae every strand
My dwellin' is in Sule Skerrie.'

'Alas, alas, this woeful fate! -
This weary fate that's been laid for me,
That a man should come from the Wast o' Hoy
To the Norway lands to have a bairn wi' me!'

'My dear, I'll wed thee with a ring,
With a ring, my dear, I'll wed with thee.'
'Thoo may go wed thee weddens wi' whom thoo wilt,
For I'm sure thoo'll never wed none wi' me!'

'Thoo wilt nurse my little wee son
For seven long years upo' thy knee,
An' at the end o' seven long years
I'll come back and pay the norish fee.'

Now he had ta'en a purse of guld
And he has put it upon her knee,
Saying 'Gi'e to me my little young son,
And take thee up thy nourrice fee.'

She says 'My dear, I'll wed thee wi' a ring,
Wi' a ring, my dear, I'll wed wi' thee!'
Thoo may go wed these [thee's] weddens wi' whom thoo wilt,
For I'm sure thoo'll never wed none wi' me!

But I'll put a gold chain around his neck
An' a gey good gold chain it'll be,
That if ever he comes to the Norway lands
Thoo may have a gey good guess on he,

An' thoo will get a gunner good,
An' a gey good gunner it will be,
An' he'll gae oot on a May mornin'
An' shoot the son an' the grey selchie.'

Oh, she has got a gunner good,
An' a gey good gunner it was he,
An' he went out on a May mornin'
An' he shot the son and the grey selchie.

Alas, alas this woeful fate
This weary fate that's been laid for me.'
And once or twice she sobbed and sighed,
An' her tender heart did brak' in three.

The chill waters of the Orkney coast, tea-leaved willow, honey-touched Grass-of-Parnassus, sea aster, and Scottish Primrose.

-- A traditional Scottish ballad. This is a variant of the one collected by Francis James Child.


Happy birthday, Moonchildren!


CANCER
Cardinal Water: the essence of feeling.
Wild lettuce, wild pear, chamomile, germanica orris, sweet pea, and mallow.


Midsummer is approaching, and with it comes a small Midsummer Night’s Dream-themed update!


++ ILLYRIA
HELENA
I'll follow thee and make a heaven of hell,
To die upon the hand I love so well.

Rose amber, calla lily, night-blooming jasmine, water lily, and white rose.


HERMIA
How low am I, thou painted maypole? speak;
How low am I? I am not yet so low
But that my nails can reach unto thine eyes.

Pink pepper, golden amber, honeysuckle, and passion flower.


LYSANDER
The course of true love never did run smooth.

Lilac musk, tonka, wood violet, and urbane lime rind, with a Venus-kissed tangle of myrtle, blackberry leaf, and benzoin.


ROBIN GOODFELLOW
Now the hungry lion roars,
And the wolf behowls the moon;
Whilst the heavy ploughman snores,
All with weary task fordone.
Now the wasted brands do glow,
Whilst the screech-owl, screeching loud,
Puts the wretch that lies in woe
In remembrance of a shroud.
Now it is the time of night
That the graves all gaping wide,
Every one lets forth his sprite,
In the church-way paths to glide:
And we fairies, that do run
By the triple Hecate's team,
From the presence of the sun,
Following darkness like a dream,
Now are frolic: not a mouse
Shall disturb this hallow'd house:
I am sent with broom before,
To sweep the dust behind the door.

Dark musk, moss-covered wood, ragwort, heather, and sage.


And a few new Shakesperean plants have bloomed in the Garden:


++ RAPPACCINI’S GARDEN
DIAN’S BUD
Be as thou wast wont to be;
See as thou wast wont to see:
Dian's bud o'er Cupid's flower
Hath such force and blessed power.

LOVE-IN-IDLENESS
Yet mark'd I where the bolt of Cupid fell:
It fell upon a little western flower,
Before, milk-white, now purple with love's wound,
And maidens call it love-in-idleness.


The Thunder Moon update will be live at Black Phoenix Trading Post tomorrow night.


This update, unfortunately, also marks the passing of the following scents:
ARACHNE
DUBLIN
EMPYREAL MIST
MANTIS
NEO-TOKYO

We absolutely hate doing so with zero notice, but we have no choice. Due to a grave emergency, one of our single note artists has closed their doors, and we are unable to procure some of the components that go into these blends elsewhere. All pending orders placed prior to this update will be filled, but we will no longer be manufacturing these scents. Thank you all so much for understanding.

We wish them all the best during this trying time.

We are currently working on the next Carousel and Carnaval updates, and new soaps, unguents, and tchotchkies will be available at BPTP soon!



From the first Blue Moon 2007 update:

May 2007 brings us a lunatic’s blessing: a Blue Moon. Tonight, Rose Moon is live, along with this month’s first appearance of Blue Moon:

ROSE MOON
Since friendships fade like the flow'rs of June,
I will leave her in charge of the stable moon."
Then he said to the moon: "O dear old moon,
Who for years and years from thy throne above
Hast nurtured and guarded young lovers and love,
My heart has but come to its waiting June,
And the promise time of the budding vine;
Oh, guard thee well this love of mine."
And he harked him then while all was still,
And the pale moon answered and said, "I will."

And he sailed in his ship o'er many seas,
And he wandered wide o'er strange far strands:
in isles of the south and in Orient lands,
Where pestilence lurks in the breath of the breeze.
But his star was high, so he braved the main,
And sailed him blithely home again;
And with joy he bended his footsteps soon
To learn of his love from the matron moon.

She sat as of yore, in her olden place,
Serene as death, in her silver chair.
A white rose gleamed in her whiter hair,
And the tint of a blush was on her face.
At sight of the youth she sadly bowed
And hid her face 'neath a gracious cloud.
She faltered faint on the night's dim marge,
But "How," spoke the youth, "have you kept your charge?"

The moon was sad at a trust ill-kept;
The blush went out in her blanching cheek,
And her voice was timid and low and weak,
As she made her plea and sighed and wept.
"Oh, another prayed and another plead,
And I couldn't resist," she answering said;"
But love still grows in the hearts of men:
Go forth, dear youth, and love again."

But he turned him away from her proffered grace.
"Thou art false, O moon, as the hearts of men,
I will not, will not love again."
And he turned sheer 'round with a soul-sick face
To the sea, and cried: "Sea, curse the moon,
Who makes her vows and forgets so soon."
And the awful sea with anger stirred,
And his breast heaved hard as he lay and heard.

And ever the moon wept down in rain,
And ever her sighs rose high in wind;
But the earth and sea were deaf and blind,
And she wept and sighed her griefs in vain.
And ever at night, when the storm is fierce,
The cries of a wraith through the thunders pierce;
And the waves strain their awful hands on high
To tear the false moon from the sky.

Thou art false, O moon, as the hearts of men. I will not, will not love again. Bulgarian rose, tea rose, violet leaf, opium poppy, Bois de Jasmin, patchouli leaf, honey, blue lilac, balsam, woodruff, and lemon peel.



BLUE MOON 2007
The spirit of the full moon is capricious, intense and passionate, yet still distant, aloof and cold. Luna herself governs glamours, bewitchments and dream-work, innocent wonder, transient pleasure and delight, the Moment, impulse, mystery and veils. The Blue Moon is one of her rarest manifestations, and this scent is formulated to encapsulate her most complex and profound nature:

Mugwort and bay, for psychic sensitivity
Juniper, for divination through dreams
Orchid and galbanum, for complexity, wisdom and noscere

with a potent lunar-charged blend of exquisite Asian woods, moonflower, Madagascan ylang ylang, Florentine iris, Greek cypress, davana, green tea absolute, palmarosa, cucumber, Clary sage, melilot trefoils, wood aloes, and pale creeping buttercup.



This full moon’s lycanthrope is the comely, charismatic, and conniving Tamamo-No-Mae:

TAMAMO-NO-MAE
One day, a courtesan of unearthly beauty appeared at the Emperor’s court. Her skin was like silk and porcelain, and her eyes gleamed like polished onyx. Her body exuded an enchanting scent, and her robes were immaculate. She quickly endeared herself to the Emperor and his concubines; her unequaled grace was matched by a glittering wit and astonishing intellect, and though she appeared to be no older than twenty, there was no question that she could not answer. There seemed to be no limit to her knowledge and strange wisdom, and she was well-versed on every topic, from astronomy to Buddhist teachings. So profound was the Emperor’s fascination with this woman that he kept her by his side, day and night. One night, the Emperor and his court attended a performance of poetry and music at the serene Seiryoden. A strong gust of wind suddenly tore through the Leaping Tiger Garden into the performance hall, shaking the bamboo reeds and extinguishing the lanterns. The room was plunged into darkness, save for a warm, golden light that emanated from within the mysterious woman’s robes. She was aglow like the rising sun. Enthralled, the Emperor declared to his ministers that this woman must be an incarnation of the Buddha, and he named her Tamamo-no-Mae. Deeply in love and profoundly devoted, the Emperor exchanged weighty vows with his favored mistress, and showered her with gifts and affection.

Within months, the Emperor became ill. He was listless, his sword-hand faltered, his skin took on a grey cast, and his muscles began to sag. Horrified, his ministers went to all the priests and soothsayers in the land, begging them for answers. They had none. The ministers appealed to the people, begging them to raise their voices in prayer. The people loved the Emperor, and sent their prayers to the Gods. The Emperor’s condition did not change. Finally, the renowned astrologer, Abe no Yasuchika, divined the cause of the Emperor’s infirmity: Tamamo-no-Mae. She was not born of woman; her true form was that of a hundred-year-old, forty-two-foot-tall, two-tailed fox demon. Disguised as a beautiful courtesan, the demoness hoped to slowly kill the Emperor, and then take his place. Knowing that she was exposed, Tamamo-no-Mae fled the palace.

Horrified, the Emperor sent the greatest warriors in the land, Kazusa-no-Suke and Miura-no-Suke, to pursue and slay his former mistress. The creature was wily and elusive, and after many weeks of hunting, the warriors began to fear that they would be unable to bring the demon to justice, thus shaming themselves and their families. They vowed that they would commit suicide if they failed in their quest, and they prayed to the Gods for assistance. That night, a beautiful woman appeared to Miura-no-Suke in his dreams. Her lovely face was marred by weeping, and she begged the warrior to spare her life. He refused, and cut the woman down. Upon waking, he realized that the dream was an omen – they would find and kill the foxwoman this day – and the warriors resumed their hunt with renewed enthusiasm. The hunters spotted the fox on the Plains of Nasu, and Miura-no-Suke fired an arrow into her heart. She fell, and her body transformed into the Sessho-seki, the Killing Stone.

Tamamo-no-Mae’s scent is soft skin musk, brushed by white tea leaf, rice flower, black locust flower, white sandalwood kodo soke, dry ginger, benzoin gum, and Amacha.

This month's astrological blend is Gemini:

GEMINI 2007
Mutable Air: the essence of thought.
Lavender, benzoin, orchid, and frankincense.



Blue and Rose Moon are also lighting up the skies over Black Phoenix Trading Post:

rosemoon


bluemoon


At Black Phoenix Trading Post, Monster Bait: biggerCritters has opened up to the public!

MONSTER BAIT: BIGGERCRITTERS
Monster Bait: biggerCritters -- a deceptively sweet scent; just like the Critters themselves, the perfume is fluffy, poofy, soft, snuggly, and googly! Five vanillas with Moroccan jasmine, white gardenia, and pink grapefruit.



At Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab, a new wing has opened in the Salon. Exhibit III contains:

Bat
Cleopatra Testing Poisons on Those Condemned to Death
Death and Life Completed
Fox Fires on New Year's Eve at the Garment Nettle Tree at Oji
Kiyohime Changes From a Serpent
Love and Pain
Macbeth and the Witches
Mad Meg
Madonna
Monna Vanna
Philosopher in Meditation
Schlafende Baigneuse
The Smiling Spider
Spirit of the Komachi Cherry Tree
Sunflower
Sunrise With Sea-Monsters





From the Friday the 13th update:

Happy Friday the 13th, ladies and gents! We have a small update tonight, and, for the first time, we’re extending the “live” time for 13. It will be up on the site until midnight on the dreaded 15th of April in a small gesture intended to cheer some people up at tax time! Milk Moon, Minotaur, and Taurus are also getting a slightly extended stay, and will be live until 13 comes down.

And now, on with the show:

++ LIMITED EDITION ++
THIRTEEN (13)
13 is significant, whether you consider it lucky, unlucky or just plain odd. Many believe it to be unfortunate

because there were 13 present at the Last Supper.
Loki crashed a party of 12 at Valhalla, which ended in Baldur’s death.
Oinomaos killed 13 of Hippodamia’s suitors before Pelops finally, in his own shady way, defeated the jealous king.
In ancient Rome, Hecate’s witches gathered in groups of 12, the Goddess herself being the 13th in the coven.

Concern over the number thirteen echoes back beyond the Christian era. Line 13 was omitted form the Code of Hammurabi.

The shivers over Friday the 13th also have some interesting origins:

Christ was allegedly crucified on Friday the 13th.
On Friday, October 13, 1307, King Philip IV of France ordered the arrests of Jaques de Molay, Grand Master of the Knights Templar, and sixty of his senior knights.
In British custom, hangings were held on Fridays, and there were 13 steps on the gallows leading to the noose.

To combat the superstition, Robert Ingersoll and the Thirteen Club held thirteen-men dinners during the 19th Century. Successful? Hardly. The number still invokes trepidation to this day. A recent whimsical little serial killer study showed that the following murderers all have names that total thirteen letters:

Theodore Bundy
Jeffrey Dahmer
Albert De Salvo
John Wayne Gacy

And, with a little stretch of the imagination, you can also fit ‘Jack the Ripper’ and ‘Charles Manson’ into that equation.

More current-era paranoia: modern schoolchildren stop their memorization of the multiplication tables at 12. There were 13 Plutonium slugs in the atomic bomb that was dropped on Nagasaki. Apollo 13 wasn’t exactly the most successful space mission. All of these are things that modern triskaidekaphobes point to when justifying their fears.

For some, 13 is an extremely fortuitous and auspicious number

In Jewish tradition, God has 13 Attributes of Mercy. Also, there were 13 tribes of Israel, 13 principles of Jewish faith, and 13 is considered the age of maturity.
The ancient Egyptians believed that there were 12 stages of spiritual achievement in this lifetime, and a 13th beyond death.
The word for thirteen, in Chinese, sounds much like the word which means “must be alive”.

Thirteen, whether you love it or loathe it, is a pretty cool number all around.

In some theories of relativity, there are 13 dimensions.
It is a prime number, lucky number, star number, Wilson Prime, and Fibonacci number.
There are 13 Archimedean solids.

AND
There were 13 original colonies when the United States were founded.

Says a lot about the US, doesn’t it?

A base of cocoa absolute and white chocolate with thirteen baneful and beneficial bits: cardamom, fig meat, grains of paradise, rice flower, chamomile, sandalwood, catnip, clove, and a bundle of five blessed blossoms and herbs.



BAD LUCK WOMAN BLUES
Did you ever have a bad luck woman on your trail?
Did you ever have a bad luck woman on your trail?
Always keeps you broke, always keeps you in jail.

I used to be happy, (as good Lord), all the time,
I used to be happy, (as good Lord), all the time,
but soon as I got this woman, (lost) all I can call mine.

My bad luck woman is a jinx and a worry too,
My bad luck woman is a jinx and a worry too,
I can't get rid of her no matter what I do.

I tried to make her quit me by callin' another woman's name,
I tried to make her quit me by callin' another woman's name,
She said, That is all right, he loves me just the same.

She keeps a ra't's foot in her hand at night when she goes to sleep,
She keeps a ra't's foot in her hand at night when she goes to sleep,
to keep (me with) her, so I won't make no midnight creep.

My bad luck woman keeps me feelin' blues,
My bad luck woman keeps me feelin' blues,
I can't get rid of her, she sticks to me like glue.

Keep that bad luck woman away with a blend of Spanish moss, black pepper, mullein, sweet sage, vandal root, cypress, cigar tobacco, and a puff of goofer dust cloaked by a swarthy cologne of vetiver, lime, dark musk, caramel accord, and lilac.



LADY LUCK BLUES
Bad luck has come to stay
Trouble never end
My man has gone away
With a girl I thought was my friend
I'm worried down with care
Lordy, can't you hear my prayer

Lady Luck, Lady Luck
Won't you please smile down on me
There's the time, friend of mine
I need your sympathy
I've got a horseshoe on my door
I've knocked on wood till my hands are sore
Since my man's done turned me loose
I've got those Lady Luck blues, I mean
I've got those Lady Luck blues

Lady Luck, Lady Luck
Won't you please smile down on me
There's the time, friend of mine
I need your sympathy
I've got his picture turned upside down
I've sprinkled goofer dust all around
Since my man is gone I'm all confused
I've got those Lady Luck blues
Find my good man
I've got those Lady Luck blues

Lady Luck, please smile down on me. A melancholy scent, aching with longing, created to appease Fickle Fortune. Honeyed Bulgarian rose, vanilla flower, benzoin, tonka, black plum, peony, and iris.


Lady Luck Blues, © 1923 William Weber & Clarence Williams. Recorded by Sidney Bechet, Bessie Smith, Mamie Smith, and the Clarence Williams Orchestra.

Bad Luck Woman Blues, © 1926 Aletha Dickerson. Recorded by Papa Charlie Jackson.


This weekend will see a Black Phoenix Trading Post update. Please keep your eyes peeled!

May crickets chirp in your homes, may four-leafed clovers fill your gardens, and may every chimney sweep that you pass blow you a hundred kisses.



From the 31 March 2007 update:

April is looming, and that means its time to hunt the gowk at BPAL, so to speak. Happy April Fool’s Day, friends and neighbors! To commemorate, we have a slew of springtime sillyscents in addition to this month’s Lunacies.

    LIMITED EDITION: LUNACY
  • MILK MOON 2007 -- And they came unto the brook of Eshcol, and cut down from thence a branch with one cluster of grapes, and they bare it between two upon a staff; and they brought of the pomegranates, and of the figs. The place was called the brook Eshcol, because of the cluster of grapes which the children of Israel cut down from thence. And they returned from searching of the land after forty days. And they went and came to Moses, and to Aaron, and to all the congregation of the children of Israel, unto the wilderness of Paran, to Kadesh; and brought back word unto them, and unto all the congregation, and shewed them the fruit of the land. And they told him, and said, We came unto the land whither thou sentest us, and surely it floweth with milk and honey; and this is the fruit of it. A fertile scent, generous, life-affirming, and swelling with a sense of triumph, warmth, and abundance: sweet milk, golden honey, fig fruit, pomegranate, dates, and white grape.
  • MINOTAUR -- The Bull of Minos, guardian of the Labyrinth in Knossos. A deep, swarthy black musk dusted by a dark, resinous blend of sacred bisabol myrrh, atramentous benzoin, tsori, balsam, and galbanum.

    LIMITED EDITION: SUSPICIENDO DESPICIO
  • TAURUS 2007 -- Fixed Earth: the essence of possession. Rose, daisy, apple blossom, violet, poppy, columbine, thyme, and mint.

    LIMITED EDITION: APRIL FOOLS
  • POISSON D'AVRIL -- Not at all fishy; rather, quite Springy! Innocence spiked with a little bit of foolishness: Lenten rose, crested iris, Virginia bluebell, primrose, moss phlox, blue crocus, daffodil, and dewy tulip with a touch of sugar blossom and honey.

And while we're on the topic of April Foolishness... the Monster Baits are back!

In 2006, Black Phoenix presented the public with the opportunity to reconnect our clients with their childhood friends

A flashback:
Did your bedroom monsters vacate the premises once you hit puberty? Do you miss their creepy scrabblings, chittering whispers and their bits that went bump in the night? DO YOU WANT YOUR MONSTERS TO COME BACK?

LOOK NO FURTHER!

The sympathetic alchemists at Black Phoenix have devised a sure-fire way to tempt those prodigal bogies back into your boudoir. A few drops of BPAL’s patented Monster Bait on your person, in an oil burner, or on a small sachet or swatch of cloth will lure them back in no time.

Now, in 2007, we are overjoyed to present you with another series of Monster Baits! Thanks to the miracles of modern technology, our ability to attract monsters is no longer limited to the confines of your shadowy bedroom. Advances in science have enabled us to expand our oils’ ability to coax even more beasties, both great and small!

MONSTER BAIT: TOKYO STOMP
Beckons all giant creatures from gargantuan reptiles and humongous moths! These babies are sure to crush everything from dollhouses to shopping malls! Can even be used to summon colossal robots in a pinch! A sweet and crisp vanilla mint!

MONSTER BAIT: VENTRILOQUIST DUMMY
Menacing, maniacal, and slick with the one-liners this guy does it all with a wink and a smile! Savage apricot, depraved dry woods, and psychopathic patchouli covered by a disarmingly sweet mishmosh of caramel, brown sugar, hazelnut, and butterscotch. Be warned: this oil will instigate possession in most puppets, including some marionettes and the occasional finger puppet.

And last, but not least a ghoulish lure that is Perfect for your next gathering!

MONSTER BAIT: BLOODY MARY
Why waste time chanting her name in the mirror 13 times? Bedevil your next slumber party the easy way! Chunky, glistening red fruits with sweet cream accord, black clotted cherry, and powdered sugar!

Nighttime heebies can be yours again!

Milk Moon, Minotaur, and Taurus will be live until April 5, 2007. The Monster Baits and Poisson D'Avril will be live until April 30, 2007.

Spring is springing, and it sure as hell is a stimulus for creativity and bustling work in every facet of the Black Phoenix family. Upcoming in the next few months:
We visit Lower Tadfield.
We read you a few bedtime stories and moral parables.
Another wing opens in the Salon.
Offerings will be made at Excolo’s shrines.
And we continue our trip through Carnaval Diabolique twisted, spectral midway.

milk moon

Our sister shop, Black Phoenix Trading Post, is incredibly proud to present a stunning interpretation of Milk Moon by our beloved Jennifer Williamson. This beautiful tee will be live until April 3, 2007.

A wee bit more Trading Post news:
FizzyBOOMs have been discontinued until further notice. As much as we love them, the little buggers are just smooshing too often in transit. They will be down for a bit while we work out the shipping kinks. Thank you for your patience and understanding! We'll keep you posted on the boom status! Do not despair, however, as new soaps, new shiny things, and new incarnations of bathtime joy are all in the works, in addition to solid perfume, ambience blends, and new garment designs.



From the 1 March 2007 update:

Before I get started on anything else Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett have graciously given us their permission to use Good Omens as a source of inspiration for a line of perfume. Half of the proceeds will go to the CBLDF and the other half will go to the Orangutan Foundation International. All hail Neil and Terry!!! We are in the process of finalizing the first burst of scents. We’ll keep you posted!

Gleeful, crazy screams of love to Penn Jillette for mentioning us a couple of times on Penn Radio.

Thank you! We love you, Penn!

Pink Moon is the first full moon of Spring, and, indeed, spring is rearing its flowery head at Black Phoenix. The most adorable Lunacy tee EVAH is live at Black Phoenix Trading Post. For your pleasure, the first LE’s of the season:

  • ARIES -- March 21 – April 19 / Cardinal fire: the essence of identity. / Black pepper, honeysuckle, opoponax, dragon’s blood, and wild ginger.
  • THE IDES OF MARCH 2007 -- The Ides marked an auspicious time in the Roman calendar. Depending on the month in question, the Ides fell on the thirteenth or fifteenth, and usually marked the Full Moon. As we all know, it was not an auspicious day for Julius Caesar, nor was it fortuitous for H.P. Lovecraft, who also met his maker on this infamous day. Tu quoque, Brute, fili mi! A mixture of springtime greenery and classical Roman cologne: rosemary, bergamot, lemon rind and vervain with costus, benzoin, gray amber, cardamom, white narcissus and iris.
  • OSTARA -- The Vernal Equinox. Also called Alban Eilir and the Festival of Trees. At this time, we welcome the reawakening of the Earth after winter’s long sleep. Sap flows, flowers bud, the world itself is exuberant, and the vitality of the universe’s life-force is palpable.

    This is a day of rebirth, but it is also a day of balance. Equal parts masculine and feminine, light and dark, mercy and severity, surrender and contemplation.

    Our springtime celebratory perfume is crafted with orris root, bergamot, frankincense, daffodil, orange pulp, attar of rose, jonquil, strawberry leaf, benzoin, violet leaf, copal, honey cakes, sweet cream, and the blossoms of springtime.
  • PINK MOON -- A sweet and silly compliment to the first breath of Spring! Sugared carnation and phlox!
  • ROUX-GA-ROUX -- Just in time for Lent, cher! A native of Louisiana, this Cajun lycanthrope stalks the swamps, forests, and fields of Acadiana and New Orleans in search of prey. It is believed that if one breaks Lent by failing to give alms, fast, or pray for seven years in a row, she will be God-cursed, and will transform into this snarling beast at every sunset, a slave to her desperate, mindless hunger until dawn. Spanish moss, swamp jessamine, bog water, cypress, hickory wood, lobelia, sweet flag, wisteria, and marsh milkweed.

Starting this month, the appropriate zodiacal blend of the month will be live during the time that the Lunacy is live. While we have offered astrological blends in the past, these are new incarnations for 2007.

Aries, Roux-Ga-Roux, and Pink Moon will be live until March 7, 2007. The Ides of March and Ostara will be available until March 15, 2007. A gentle reminder: no imp's ears are available for Limited Edition scents.

Also this month thirteen new blends are making their debut in the general catalogue.

    BEWITCHING BREWS
  • CALICO JACK -- Sea air, driftwood, waterlogged kelp, and the memory of plundered spices sprayed over worn leathers, rough musk, and the salty wooden floorboards of the Revenge.
  • POISONED APPLE -- The queen stepped before her mirror:

    Mirror, mirror, on the wall,
    Who in this land is fairest of all?

    The mirror answered:

    You, my queen, are fair; it is true.
    But Little Snow-White with the seven dwarfs
    Is a thousand times fairer than you.

    When the queen heard this, she shook and trembled with anger, "Snow-White will die, if it costs me my life!" Then she went into her most secret room -- no one else was allowed inside -- and she made a poisoned, poisoned apple. From the outside it was red and beautiful, and anyone who saw it would want it. Then she disguised herself as a peasant woman, went to the dwarfs' house and knocked on the door.

    Snow-White peeped out and said, "I'm not allowed to let anyone in. The dwarfs have forbidden it most severely."

    "If you don't want to, I can't force you," said the peasant woman. "I am selling these apples, and I will give you one to taste."

    "No, I can't accept anything. The dwarfs don't want me to."

    "If you are afraid, then I will cut the apple in two and eat half of it. Here, you eat the half with the beautiful red cheek!" Now the apple had been so artfully made that only the red half was poisoned. When Snow-White saw that the peasant woman was eating part of the apple, her desire for it grew stronger, so she finally let the woman hand her the other half through the window. She bit into it, but she barely had the bite in her mouth when she fell to the ground dead.

    The queen was happy, went home, and asked her mirror:

    Mirror, mirror, on the wall,
    Who in this land is fairest of all?

    And it answered:

    You, my queen, are fairest of all.

    A perfect, lovely, gleaming red apple whose sweetness masks a swirl of narcotic opium, oleander, and hemlock.

    LOVE POTIONS
  • BIEN LOIN D’ICI --
    This is the house, the sacred box,
    Where, always draped in languorous frocks,
    And always at home if someone knocks,

    One elbow into the pillow pressed,
    She lies, and lazily fans her breast,
    While fountains weep their soulfullest:
    This is the chamber of Dorothy.
    — Fountain and breeze for her alone
    Sob in that soothing undertone.
    Was ever so spoiled a harlot known?

    With odorous oils and rosemary,
    Benzoin and every unguent grown,
    Her skin is rubbed most delicately.
    — The flowers are faint with ecstasy.

    The Scarlet Woman, aglow with sensual indolence: red musk, benzoin, caramel accord, golden honey, and spiced Moroccan unguents.

    MAD TEA PARTY
  • CROQUET -- 'Get to your places!' shouted the Queen in a voice of thunder, and people began running about in all directions, tumbling up against each other; however, they got settled down in a minute or two, and the game began. Alice thought she had never seen such a curious croquet-ground in her life; it was all ridges and furrows; the balls were live hedgehogs, the mallets live flamingoes, and the soldiers had to double themselves up and to stand on their hands and feet, to make the arches.

    The chief difficulty Alice found at first was in managing her flamingo: she succeeded in getting its body tucked away, comfortably enough, under her arm, with its legs hanging down, but generally, just as she had got its neck nicely straightened out, and was going to give the hedgehog a blow with its head, it would twist itself round and look up in her face, with such a puzzled expression that she could not help bursting out laughing: and when she had got its head down, and was going to begin again, it was very provoking to find that the hedgehog had unrolled itself, and was in the act of crawling away: besides all this, there was generally a ridge or furrow in the way wherever she wanted to send the hedgehog to, and, as the doubled-up soldiers were always getting up and walking off to other parts of the ground, Alice soon came to the conclusion that it was a very difficult game indeed.

    We have some trouble managing our flamingos, too. Pink lime, pink grapefruit, white nectarine, wild rose, sage, woody patchouli, bergamot, and ornery hedgehog musk.
  • THE DODO -- ‘In that case,’ said the Dodo solemnly, rising to its feet, ‘I move that the meeting adjourn, for the immediate adoption of more energetic remedies—’

    ‘Speak English!’ said the Eaglet. ‘I don’t know the meaning of half those long words, and, what’s more, I don’t believe you do either!’ And the Eaglet bent down its head to hide a smile: some of the other birds tittered audibly.

    ‘What I was going to say,’ said the Dodo in an offended tone, ‘was, that the best thing to get us dry would be a Caucus-race.’

    ‘What is a Caucus-race?’ said Alice; not that she wanted much to know, but the Dodo had paused as if it thought that somebody ought to speak, and no one else seemed inclined to say anything.

    ‘Why,’ said the Dodo, ‘the best way to explain it is to do it.’ (And, as you might like to try the thing yourself, some winter day, I will tell you how the Dodo managed it.)

    First it marked out a race-course, in a sort of circle, (‘the exact shape doesn’t matter,’ it said,) and then all the party were placed along the course, here and there. There was no ‘One, two, three, and away,’ but they began running when they liked, and left off when they liked, so that it was not easy to know when the race was over. However, when they had been running half an hour or so, and were quite dry again, the Dodo suddenly called out ‘The race is over!’ and they all crowded round it, panting, and asking, ‘But who has won?’

    This question the Dodo could not answer without a great deal of thought, and it sat for a long time with one finger pressed upon its forehead (the position in which you usually see Shakespeare, in the pictures of him), while the rest waited in silence. At last the Dodo said, ‘everybody has won, and all must have prizes.’

    Red musk, lemon peel, sugar cane, cassia, white sandalwood, mango, and agarwood.
  • THE KNAVE OF HEARTS -- 'Herald, read the accusation!' said the King.

    On this the White Rabbit blew three blasts on the trumpet, and then unrolled the parchment scroll, and read as follows:--

    'The Queen of Hearts, she made some tarts,
    All on a summer day:
    The Knave of Hearts, he stole those tarts,
    And took them quite away!'

    Crushed roses and blackcurrant tarts.
  • QUEEN ALICE -- At this moment the door was flung open, and a shrill voice was heard singing:

    'To the Looking-Glass world it was Alice that said
    "I've a sceptre in hand, I've a crown on my head.
    Let the Looking-Glass creatures, whatever they be
    Come and dine with the Red Queen, the White Queen, and me!"'
    And hundreds of voices joined in the chorus:
    'Then fill up the glasses as quick as you can,
    And sprinkle the table with buttons and bran:
    Put cats in the coffee, and mice in the tea --
    And welcome Queen Alice with thirty-times-three!'

    Then followed a confused noise of cheering, and Alice thought to herself 'Thirty times three makes ninety. I wonder if any one's counting?' In a minute there was silence again, and the same shrill voice sang another verse:

    '"O Looking-Glass creatures," quoth Alice, "draw near!
    'Tis an honour to see me, a favour to hear:
    'Tis a privilege high to have dinner and tea
    Along with the Red Queen, the White Queen, and me!"'
    Then came the chorus again:
    'Then fill up the glasses with treacle and ink,
    Or anything else that is pleasant to drink:
    Mix sand with the cider, and wool with the wine --
    And welcome Queen Alice with ninety-times-nine!'

    Carnation, posies, and white amber with a hint of inky treacle, sandy cider, and wooly wine.

    WANDERLUST
  • 51 -- Luminescent, glowing, and otherworldly: green mandarin, neroli, honeydew, white amber, guava, freesia, white and green musks hovering over desert scrub, smashed wood, and the dry, biting scent of night air over the Groom Lake salt flats.

    RAPPACCINI'S GARDEN
  • SQUIRTING CUCUMBER -- Yikes! A spurt of wet, grassy greenness.
  • VOODOO LILY -- Amorphallus, indeed. A breathtakingly exotic, wild, and grossly erotic spicy gold, purple-black, and burgundy lily.

    A PICNIC IN ARKHAM
  • BROWN JENKINS -- The yellowed country records containing her testimony and that of her accusers were so damnably suggestive of things beyond human experience - and the descriptions of the darting little furry object which served as her familiar were so painfully realistic despite their incredible details.

    That object - no larger than a good-sized rat and quaintly called by the townspeople "Brown Jenkins - seemed to have been the fruit of a remarkable case of sympathetic herd-delusion, for in 1692 no less than eleven persons had testified to glimpsing it. There were recent rumours, too, with a baffling and disconcerting amount of agreement. Witnesses said it had long hair and the shape of a rat, but that its sharp-toothed, bearded face was evilly human while its paws were like tiny human hands. It took messages betwixt old Keziah and the devil, and was nursed on the witch's blood, which it sucked like a vampire. Its voice was a kind of loathsome titter, and it could speak all languages. Of all the bizarre monstrosities in Gilman's dreams, nothing filled him with greater panic and nausea than this blasphemous and diminutive hybrid, whose image flitted across his vision in a form a thousandfold more hateful than anything his waking mind had deduced from the ancient records and the modern whispers.

    A small, furry, sharp-toothed scent that will nuzzle you curiously in the black hours before dawn: dusty white sandalwood and orris root, dry coconut husk, creeping musk, and the residue of ceremonial incense.
  • THE DEEP ONES -- I think their predominant colour was a greyish-green, though they had white bellies. They were mostly shiny and slippery, but the ridges of their backs were scaly. Their forms vaguely suggested the anthropoid, while their heads were the heads of fish, with prodigious bulging eyes that never closed. At the sides of their necks were palpitating gills, and their long paws were webbed. They hopped irregularly, sometimes on two legs and sometimes on four. I was somehow glad that they had no more than four limbs. Their croaking, baying voices, clearly used for articulate speech, held all the dark shades of expression which their staring faces lacked.

    Black algae, drooping seaweed, salty brine, and crushed coral.
  • HERBERT WEST -- Of Herbert West, who was my friend in college and in after life, I can speak only with extreme terror. This terror is not due altogether to the sinister manner of his recent disappearance, but was engendered by the whole nature of his life-work, and first gained its acute form more than seventeen years ago, when we were in the third year of our course at the Miskatonic University Medical School in Arkham. While he was with me, the wonder and diabolism of his experiments fascinated me utterly, and I was his closest companion. Now that he is gone and the spell is broken, the actual fear is greater. Memories and possibilities are ever more hideous than realities.

    Aftershave, embalming fluid, and splatterings from a panoply of reanimation reagents.

There have been some minor changes to the BPAL site. Propaganda, the links page, and the ‘about us’ schpeel have been updated, and (after 4 years of procrastinating) the Funereal Oils category has been renamed.

We've been working our asses off, so this season promises to be a fruitful one. We truly believe that you’re going to enjoy all the sinister, strange, and silly things that the Black Phoenix family is concocting for Spring.





From the OhMyGoDNeILGaIManGAH! update (January 31, 2007):

This update thrills me. It thrills me so much that I, for once, am almost at a loss for words. We are inexpressibly proud to present the debut of the Carousel, the Neil Gaiman Collection. Neil has been an inspiration to me since I first came upon a copy of Sandman #1 in 1996, in more ways than I can explain. He is a wonderful man, a passionate and profound author, and one hell of a clever guy. I am extremely grateful to him for the opportunity to interpret his characters and stories through scent. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.

Neil, we love you.

Going live tonight in the Carousel

THE CAROUSEL: AMERICAN GODS
  • BILQUIS --
    The Queen of Sheba, half-demon, they said, on her father's side, witch woman, wise woman, and queen, who ruled Sheba when Sheba was the richest land there ever was, when its spices and its gems and scented woods were taken by boat and camel-back to the corners of the earth, who was worshipped even when she was alive, worshipped as a living goddess by the wisest of kings, stands on the sidewalk of Sunset Boulevard at 2:00 A.M. staring blankly out at traffic like a slutty plastic bride on a black-and-neon wedding cake. She stands as if she owns the sidewalk and the night that surrounds her.

    Honey, myrrh, lily of the valley, rose otto, fig leaf, almond, ambrette, red apple, and warm musk.

  • MAD SWEENEY --
    "Coin tricks is it?" asked Sweeney, his chin raising, his scruffy beard bristling. "Why, if it's coin tricks we're doing, watch this."

    He took an empty glass from the table. Then he reached out and took a large coin, golden and shining, from the air. He dropped it into the glass. He took another gold coin from the air and tossed it into the glass, where it clinked against the first. He took a coin from the candle flame of a candle on the wall, another from his beard, a third from Shadow's empty left hand, and dropped them, one by one, into the glass. Then he curled his fingrs over the glass, and blew hard, and several more golden coins dropped into the glass from his hand. He tipped the glass of sticky coins into his jacket pocket, and then tapped the pocket to show, unmistakably, that it was empty.

    "There," he said. "That's a coin trick for you."

    Barrel-aged whiskey and oak.

  • MAMA-JI --
    Shadow saw the old woman, her dark face pinched with age and disapproval, but behind her he saw something huge, a naked woman with skin as black as a new leather jacket, and lips and tongue the bright red of arterial blood. Around her neck were skulls, and her many hands held knives, and swords, and severed heads.

    Spices, cardamom, nutmeg, and flowers.

  • MR. IBIS --
    The smoke stung Shadow’s eyes. He wiped the tears away with his hand, and, through the smoke, he thought he saw a tall man in a suit, with gold-rimmed spectacles. The smoke cleared and the boatman was once more a half-human creature with the head of a river bird.

    Papyrus, vanilla flower, Egyptian musk, African musk, aloe ferox, white sandalwood.

  • MR. JACQUEL --
    Shadow looked up at the creature. "Mr. Jacquel?" he said.

    The hands of Anubis came down, huge dark hands, and they picked Shadow up and brought him close.

    The jackal head examined him with bright and glittering eyes; examined him as dispassionately as Mr. Jacquel had examined the dead girl on the slab. Shadow knew that all his faults, all his failings, all his weaknesses were being taken out and weighed and measured; that he was, in some way, being dissected, and sliced, and tasted.

    We do not remember the things that do no credit to us. We justify them, cover them in bright lies or with the thick dust of forgetfulness. All of the things that Shadow had done in his life of which he was not proud, all the things he wished his had done otherwise or left undone, came at him then in a swirling storm of guilt and regret and shame, and he had nowhere to hide from them. He was as naked and as open as a corpose on a table, and dark Anubis the jackal god was his prosector and his prosecutor and his persecutor.

    "Please," said Shadow. "Please stop."

    But the examination did not stop. Every lie he had ever told, every object he had stolen, every hurt he had inflicted on another person, all the little crimes and the tiny murders that make up the day, each of these things and more were extracted and held up to the light by the jackal-headed judge of the dead.

    Golden amber, hyssop, North African patchouli, and embalming spices.

      THE CAROUSEL: ANANSI BOYS
    • MR. NANCY --
      Before Fat Charlie's father had come into the bar, the barman had been of the opinion that the whole karaoke evening was going to be an utter bust; but then the little old man had sashayed into the room, walked past the table of several blonde women with the fresh sunburns and smiles of tourists...He had tipped his hat to them, for he wore a hat, a spotless green fedora, and lemon-yellow gloves, and then he walked over to their table. They giggled....He was older than they were, much, much older; but he was charm itself, like something from a bygone age when fine manners and courtly gestures were worth something. The barman relaxed. With someone like this in the bar, it was going to be a good evening.

      Sugar cookies with bay rum, tobacco, and lime.

    • SPIDER --
      There was a family resemblance between the two men. That was unarguable, although that alone did not explain the intense feeling of familiarity that Fat Charlie felt on seeing Spider. His brother looked like Fat Charlie wished he looked in his mind...Spider was taller, and leaner, and cooler. He was wearing a black-and-scarlet leather jacket, and black leather leggings, and he looked at home in them...There was something larger-than-life about him: simply being on the other side of the table to this man made Fat Charlie feel awkward and badly consructed, and slightly foolish. It wasn't the clothes Spider wore, but the knowledge that if Fat Charlie put them on he would look as if he were wearing some kind of unconvincing drag. It wasn't the way Spider smiled--casually, delightedly--but Fat Charlies's cold, incontrovertible certainty that he himself could practice smiling in front of a mirror from now until the end of time and never manage a single smile one half so charming, so cocky, or so twinklingly debonair.

      White ginger, artemesia, vetiver, nutmeg, King mandarin, bergamot, and lime.

    For more information on his work, please take a gander at the following links:

    Neil Gaiman's Official Site
    Neil Gaiman's Official Online Store

    This is a charitable, not-for-profit venture: proceeds from every single bottle go to the Comic Book Legal Defense Fund, which works to preserve and protect the First Amendment rights of the comics community. Each bottle is $25.00, and imps are not available for this series.

    Crow Moon is shining over the Limited Edition section. Beneath him, the transformation into werebeast begins:

      LIMITED EDITION: LUNACIES
    • CROW MOON -- This is the final Full Moon of winter. The call of the crow signals the end of the frost, and their scent, of vervain, black violet, white musk, and Chinese cedar, is brushed by the last cold wind of winter on their wings, and the scent of evergreen boughs touched by the season’s final flowers and the first blossoms of spring: wintersweet, green-barked dogwood, primrose, snowdrop, and lenten rose hellebore bouquet.
    • OBOROT --
      A scent of transformation.

      He who desires to become an oborot, let him seek in the forest a hewn-down tree; let him stab it with a small copper knife, and walk round the tree, repeating the following incantation:

      On the sea, on the ocean, on the island, on Bujan,
      On the empty pasture gleams the moon, on an ashstock lying
      In a green wood, in a gloomy vale.
      Towards the stock wandereth a shaggy wolf,
      Horned cattle seeking for his sharp white fangs;
      But the wolf enters not the forest,
      But the wolf dives not into the shadowy vale,
      Moon, moon, gold-horned moon,
      Check the flight of bullets, blunt the hunters' knives,
      Break the shepherds' cudgels,
      Cast wild fear upon all cattle,
      On men, all creeping things,
      That they may not catch the grey wolf,
      That they may not rend his warm skin!
      My word is binding, more binding than sleep,
      More binding than the promise of a hero!

      Then he springs thrice over the tree and runs into the forest, transformed into a wolf.

      Balkan fir sap, dark mosses, Greek Mountain tea flower, black pine, salty ocean spray, deep black earth, and a moon-touched magickal incense of sandarac, frankincense, and ravensara.
      Gongxi facai! Congratulations, and be prosperous! As we enter a new lunar year, Fire Pig dances through the Lab:

        LIMITED EDITION
      • FIRE PIG -- A new year’s blessing! Peony, China’s national flower, with bamboo for flexibility, plum blossom for perseverance, courage, and hope, tangerine for wealth, orange for happiness, lychee for household peace, pine resin for constancy, golden kumquat, pussy willow, and quince for prosperity, narcissus and King mandarin for good fortune, and peach blossom for longevity, with a splash of blazing red of dragon’s blood to help you scare away the rampaging Nian. The Yuletide scents and Oborot will leave us when Crow Moon takes flight on February 4, 2007. Fire Pig will boogie on out of here on March 14, 2007.

        The illustration of Neil on the Carousel page was doodled by the Goddess of Doodling, Jennifer Williamson. =D A trillion hugs for Jennifer!



        From the January 1, 2007 update:

        Holy Mother of Disco Balls, is it really already 2007?!

        I know what you’re all here for, and so as not to be a pain, I’ll get on with the good stuff, and leave the gushing for last:

        Carnaval Diabolique’s Act III is live. Black Phoenix is proud to present the Magnificent Miracles of our Unhallowed Midway: the Parliament of Monsters! For your pleasure, ALIVE on the INSIDE: THE 13-IN-1! Images captured by the Devil’s own portrait artist: the inimitable, infernal, mystifying Mistress of the Brush and Palette, Gennivre.

        Hunger Moon is high in the sky, and Bakeneko, this month’s shapeshifter, is prowling the halls. They will both be available until January 5th, 2007.

        Also new this month: our canticle to the complexities of love and lust – the Lupercalia series. We also present a Valentine’s Day subseries: an olfactory dissertation on the mysteries of spiritual and earthly love –Ashtanyika: the Faces of the Heroine. Both of these collections can be found on our Limited Edition page.

        Since the winter season can be so brutal, we have also added three therapeutic blends to the Panaceas, our aromatherapy collection:

          PANACEAS
        • ELIXIR X: GRR -- Headache relief.
        • ELIXIR XI: OOF -- Sinus pain relief.
        • ELIXIR XII: UGH -- Muscle ache relief.
        Because the holidays are boiling bundles of chaos, the Black Phoenix Trading Post update will not be live until January 2, 2007. Tees, fizzies, a new Inquisition I’m so stupefyingly thrilled about what Teddy has to offer this month I hope that you all end up as jazzed as I am!

        There are many perfumes that we had tagged for 2006 -- and years prior to it! -- that we hope we’ll be able to go forward with in 2007. There are a myriad of new scents in the works, plus four more acts in Carnaval Diabolique. At least one new category will be introduced to the general catalogue, and things will be popping, fizzing, glooping, and schmearing all over Black Phoenix Trading Post. All in all, I think aught seven will be a fine year.

        Happy New Year’s, one and all! Though many, many wonderful things happened during 2006, I’m really looking forward to a new year devoid of nutty landlords, broiler-hot temporary warehouses, and imploding imp vials. The clichée; says that what doesn’t kill us makes us stronger, right? Welp, we’ve gone through quite a few years of emotional buffing up – I’ll be grateful for a little more rest and a lot more fun!

        May 2007 bring us all, the entirety of the BPAL family -- both Lab Rat and our beloved clients, a reprieve from stress and grief. May the year bless us with prosperity and peace, and shower every single one of us with just enough excitement to keep our hearts racing while leaving our sanity intact!



        From the December 3, 2006 update:

        Sorry if this new.html plug is a little disjointed. The holiday season is a crazymaker, and I am ass-dragging tired!

        Wolf Moon is live at BPAL. The Black Phoenix Trading Post Wolf Moon update will go live tomorrow night.

        Starting this Lunacy, we will be celebrating the full moon twice-over by offering a therianthropic blend in tandem with the Lunacy perfume. This month’s A Lot of Lunacy blend is dedicated to our Hellenic representative from the werewolf caucus: Lycaon.

          DIABOLUS
        • WOLF MOON -- This pale and glittering moon hangs high over the deep snows and freezing winds of midwinter. January’s full moon has been named the Wolf Moon by many cultures, as the nights are filled with the howls of ravenous wolf packs, and the danger of falling prey to the animal’s desperate hunger is at its peak.

          This scent is that of unending, unquenchable hunger and feral madness. This is the dead of winter: a frozen night, chill wind, and the sharp, warm perfume of blood, fur, fang, and claw. Winter air, Terebinth pine, juniper berry, dusty orris, deep amber, white sandalwood, black musk, blue cedar, and tonka.
        • LYCAON -- Lycaon was the first king of Arcadia, and though his country prospered under his rule, he possessed a streak of viciousness that earned him the great god Zeus’ ire. Zeus had heard tales of Lycaon’s impiety and cruelty, and in order to find out the truth about the King of Arcadia, he disguised himself as a beggar and sought hospitality in the king’s court. Lycaon and his fifty equally sadistic sons discovered the identity of their guest, and foolishly served Zeus a meal of soup that contained sheep and goat entrails, and the flesh of Lycaon’s fifty-first son, Nictimos. Zeus, consumed with rage and disgust, struck the king’s home with a lightning bolt, and transformed Lycaon and his sons into creatures more suited to their savage natures: werewolves.

          A monstrous, brutal, and bloodthirsty blend: blackened myrrh, crushed olive leaf, black musk, spikenard, frankincense, cypress wood, opoponax, white ginger, and patchouli.

        The Halloweenies, Order of the Dragon, and Anniversary scents have been given a brief reprieve. They will remain live until Wolf Moon comes down on December 7, 2006.

        Also new this update a new exhibit in the Salon! 16 new artistic interpretations are available for your perusal. A new imp set is also available there, and covers all sixteen of the new perfumes.

        The next Carnaval Diabolique act will be live in December, along with a few other surprises that will span BPAL, BPTP, and TAL.

        Whoops! Almost forgot...

        Shub-Niggurath is back. ;)

        We sincerely hope that everyone’s winter is glittering, and is as painless and drama-free as possible!





        From the 4 November 2006 update:

        Happy anniversary to us! Four years, baby, and we’re still chugging along! A sincere, heartfelt, and loving thanks to all of our clients for being so supportive through all our trials, for giving us the opportunity to pursue our heart’s desire, and for gifting us with an unrivaled extended family of the most phenomenal, fascinating, and multi-faceted people on this planet.

        Now, before I get all sappy – as I am wont to do – let’s get on with the show!

        Bitter Moon is live!

        BITTER MOON
        Kokoro no oni ga mi wo semeru. The body is tortured only by the demon of the heart. Nepal poppy, lotus root, wild rose, and blue hibiscus with blackberry, tonka, sage, lavender, peony and vetiver.

        Our Doodle Goddess, Jennifer Williamson, has provided some incredibly sexy artwork for the Bitter Moon tee – artwork that is amazingly appropriate for the BPALiversary, too. It will be live, along with a few more new items, on the Black Phoenix Trading Post site tomorrow.

        With this, we close the Year of Asian Moons. Bitter Moon will be live at Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab until November 7, 2006.

        To commemorate our anniversary, we’re bringing back some discontinued scents. Live until December 1, 2006

          RESURRECTION
        • BAT'S BLOOD -- Vengeance can be yours.
        • FEU FOLLET -- Deceptively gentle and lethally alluring. Jasmine and rose, touched with sparkling heliotrope.
        • GLASYA -- Created in honor of the fiery, vicious Princess of Hell and bloodthirsty general who governs thirty-six legions of infernal warriors. Her lust for bloodshed and manslaughter is matched only by her love of the classical arts and sciences - definitely a woman that we respect. A seething, fiery blend of dragon's blood, deep myrrh, red and black musks, civet and thick red patchouli, glistening with drops of rose and ylang ylang.
        • GLITTER -- All flash and glam: white wine, heliotrope, d'Anjou pear, and lotus.
        • SILENTIUM AMORIS --
          As oftentimes the too resplendent sun
          Hurries the pallid and reluctant moon
          Back to her sombre cave, ere she hath won
          A single ballad from the nightingale,
          So doth thy Beauty make my lips to fail,
          And all my sweetest singing out of tune.

          And as at dawn across the level mead
          On wings impetuous some wind will come,
          And with its too harsh kisses break the reed
          Which was its only instrument of song,
          So my too stormy passions work me wrong,
          And for excess of Love my Love is dumb.

          But surely unto Thee mine eyes did show
          Why I am silent, and my lute unstrung;
          Else it were better we should part, and go,
          Thou to some lips of sweeter melody,
          And I to nurse the barren memory
          Of unkissed kisses, and songs never sung.

          Unspoken love. Inspired by Oscar Wilde's poem. A scent brimming with pathos and memories of longing and loss. Rose touched with ylang ylang.
        • TYPHON -- A fearsome creature from Greek lore. Typhon was born from the marriage of Earth and Hell, and is said to be so terrible in aspect that even the gods themselves flee from his venomous gaze. Our own blend of Earth and Hell: red patchouli, sandalwood, black musk and vetiver.
        • YUKI-ONNA -- The Lady of the Snow, Winter Ghost, Snow Queen. A chilling, haunted blend of bergamot, lemon verbena, sandalwood and jasmine.
        And finally this year’s commemorative Phoenix:

        PURPLE PHOENIX
        Porphyrogenitus, indeed; we worked for it! Not simply the color of royalty, purple is also the color of sorrow and mourning, reconciliation and forgiveness. A regal, majestic, and somber blend of myrrh, plum blossom, African violet, cognac, fig, orris, lilac, wisteria, black plum, and Burgundy wine grapes.

        Many things are still on the calendar for this year at BPAL, BPTP, and TAL, so keep poking around! Carnaval Diabolique moves into its next chapter, some long-awaited scents from the 2006 preview are making their debut, spooky new designs and some shiny bling is arriving at the Trading Post, and TAL will have some new tricks up its proverbial sleeve. This year ain’t over yet, friends and neighbors!

        Thank you again for four amazing fucking years. Our lives are truly enriched by every single one of you, and we hope that we can continue to share our dreams, nightmares, and perversities for many, many years to come!


        From the Friday the 13th update:

        Happy Friday the 13th! 13 has been reformulated this month. There are thirteen different lucky and unlucky components: cocoa and vanilla beans, Mysore sandalwood, star fruit, orange rind, red amber, fig leaf, mimosa, rooibos tea, bourbon geranium, rose otto, nutmeg, and lavender. This scent is as sexy as a black cat and as much fun as finding a four-leafed clover. ;)

        Four new plants have bloomed in the Garden:

          RAPPACCINI'S GARDEN
        • BLACK LILY -- Breathtaking darkness, a vision of grace in shadow.
        • DEVIL'S CLAW -- A yellow-bright and smoky brown-black scent, horned, pronged and strange.
        • LOVE-LIES-BLEEDING -- The velvet flower. A lush, thick, luxuriant bloom, bold and red.
        • SLOBBERING PINE -- Dewy, wet, whiplike and sticky.

        The Grim Reaper once again graces Funereal Oils with his smiling mug:

          FUNEREAL OILS
        • THE REAPER AND THE FLOWERS --
          There is a Reaper, whose name is Death,
               And, with his sickle keen,
          He reaps the bearded grain at a breath,
               And the flowers that grow between.

          "Shall I have naught that is fair?" Saith he;
               "Having naught but the bearded grain?
          Though the breath of these flowers is sweet to me,
               I will give them all back again,"

          He gazed at the flowers with tearful eye,
               He kissed their drooping leaves;
          It was for the Lord of Paradise
               He bound them in his sheaves.

          "My Lord has need of these flowerets gay,"
               The Reaper said, and smiled:
          "Dear tokens of the earth are they,
               Where he was once a child."

          "They shall all bloom in fields of light,
               Transplanted by my care,
          And saints, upon their garments white,
               These sacred blossoms wear."

          And the mother gave, in tears and pain,
               The flowers she most did love:
          She knew she should find them all again
               In the fields of light above.

          O, not in cruelty, not in wrath,
               The Reaper came that day;
          'Twas an angel visited the green earth,
               And took the flowers away.

          A funereal bouquet laid on cemetery grass: longiflorum lilies, white rose, chrysanthemum, and carnation.


        Two new Love Potions make their debut:

          LOVE POTIONS
        • LILIUM INTER SPINAS --
          I am a rose of Sharon, a lily of the valleys.

          As a lily among thorns, so is my love among the daughters.

          As the apple tree among the trees of the wood, so is my beloved among the sons. I sat down under his shadow with great delight, his fruit was sweet to my taste.

          He brought me to the banquet hall. His banner over me is love.

          Strengthen me with raisins, refresh me with apples; For I am faint with love.

          His left hand is under my head. His right hand embraces me.

          I adjure you, daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes, or by the hinds of the field, that you not stir up, nor awaken love, until it so desires.

          The voice of my beloved! Behold, he comes, leaping on the mountains, skipping on the hills.

          My beloved is like a roe or a young hart. Behold, he stands behind our wall! He looks in at the windows. He glances through the lattice.

          My beloved spoke, and said to me, "Rise up, my love, my beautiful one, and come away.

          For, behold, the winter is past. The rain is over and gone.

          The flowers appear on the earth. The time of the singing has come, and the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land.

          The fig tree ripens her green figs. The vines are in blossom. They give forth their fragrance. Arise, my love, my beautiful one, and come away."

          My dove in the clefts of the rock, In the hiding places of the mountainside, Let me see your face. Let me hear your voice; for your voice is sweet, and your face is lovely.

          Catch for us the foxes, the little foxes that spoil the vineyards; for our vineyards are in blossom.

          My beloved is mine, and I am his. He browses among the lilies.

          Until the day is cool, and the shadows flee away, turn, my beloved, and be like a roe or a young hart on the mountains of Bether.

          Hibiscus syriacus, white sandalwood, lily of the valley, apple blossom, and green fig.
        • THE TEMPTATION --
          The Demon, in my chamber high,
          This morning came to visit me,
          And, thinking he would find some fault,
          He whispered: "I would know of thee

          Among the many lovely things
          That make the magic of her face,
          Among the beauties, black and rose,
          That make her body's charm and grace,

          Which is most fair?" Thou didst reply
          To the Abhorred, O soul of mine:
          "No single beauty is the best
          When she is all one flower divine.

          When all things charm me I ignore
          Which one alone brings most delight;
          She shines before me like the dawn,
          And she consoles me like the night.

          The harmony is far too great,
          That governs all her body fair,
          For impotence to analyse
          And say which note is sweetest there.

          O mystic metamorphosis!
          My senses into one sense flow --
          Her voice makes perfume when she speaks,
          Her breath is music faint and low!"

          An expression of love, adoration, and desire, of beauty that transcends mortal desire and piques the interest of hell itself: attar of rose, calla lily, palmarosa, peach blossom, wisteria, rice flower, and black musk.

        Mania dances through Excolo, and, at long last, a new perfume joins Diabolus' infernal ho-down:

          EXCOLO
        • MANIA -- The personification of insanity, Mother of Manes, Goddess of Night Spirits, Mistress of Undeath, She Who Gives Life to the Dead. With Mantus, she rules the Etruscan underworld, and her scent is roiling chaos and churning madness, but because she is the mother of the Lares, benevolent household spirits, her perfume also bears an underlying gentleness, and, like madness, a strange sweetness. Screeching white musk collides with a howl of red musk, with sharp white grapefruit and pale strawberry leaf.

          DIABOLUS
        • HORREUR SYMPATHIQUE --
          From livid skies that, without end,
          As stormy as your future roll,
          What thoughts into your empty soul
          (Answer me, libertine!) descend?

          — Insatiable yet for all
          That turns on darkness, doom, or dice,
          I'll not, like Ovid, mourn my fall,
          Chased from the Latin paradise.

          Skies, torn like seacoasts by the storm!
          In you I see my pride take form,
          And the huge clouds that rush in streams

          Are the black hearses of my dreams,
          And your red rays reflect the hell,
          In which my heart is pleased to dwell.

          The perfume of a hellbound soul, gleefully lost to iniquity: blood musk, golden honey, thick black wine, champagne grapes, tobacco flower, plum blossom, tonka bean, oakmoss, carnation, benzoin, opoponax, and sugar cane.


        Hm. Seems like I’m forgetting something

        Ah, yes! The Yuletide update is live!

        Yes, I know that we’re not even out of autumn yet, and here I am piling snow and sleet on all of you. We always put the winter scents up early to ensure that people have ample time to order them for Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Solstice, Diwali, Shichi-Go-San, Luciadagen, Jongwol Daeborum, Tet, and all other winter holidays. Please note: we respectfully request that any orders you want to receive in time for Christmas be placed by November 20th. (Yes, we know Christmas isn’t the only holiday in winter, but it is the one that most Westerners are primarily concerned about when it comes to gift-giving issues. No offense intended to anyone, obee kaybee?)

        And now that I’ve laid down the disclaimers and whatnot, let’s get on to the good part:

          YULETIDE 2006
        • BLACK ICE -- Lovely, dangerous, slick, and bitterly cold: chilly white sleet-like notes with a hint of vetiver, a breath of smoky asphalt, and winter wind.
        • THE DARKLING THRUSH --
          I leant upon a coppice gate
                When Frost was spectre-gray,
          And Winter's dregs made desolate
                The weakening eye of day.
          The tangled bine-stems scored the sky
                Like strings of broken lyres,
          And all mankind that haunted nigh
                Had sought their household fires.

          The land's sharp features seemed to be
                The Century's corpse outleant,
          His crypt the cloudy canopy,
                The wind his death-lament.
          The ancient pulse of germ and birth
                Was shrunken hard and dry,
          And every spirit upon earth
                Seemed fevourless as I.

          At once a voice arose among
                The bleak twigs overhead
          In a full-hearted evensong
                Of joy illimited;
          An aged thrush, frail, gaunt, and small,
                In blast-beruffled plume,
          Had chosen thus to fling his soul
                Upon the growing gloom.

          So little cause for carolings
                Of such ecstatic sound
          Was written on terrestrial things
                Afar or nigh around,
          That I could think there trembled through
                His happy good-night air
          Some blessed Hope, whereof he knew
                And I was unaware.

          The hope of springtime penetrating winter darkness. Snow, darkness, and icy air illuminated by the thrush’s song: warm amber, soft orris, and melancholy violet.
        • HALÔA -- Sacred to both Demeter and Dionysus, this is a celebration of the of the pruning of the vines, the first fermentation of the year’s wine, and of the consecration of the next year’s planting. The service was lead by the heterai and the Eleusinian Arkhontes, and began with the preparation of a banquet that honors Demeter’s bounty and the fertility aspect of Dionysus with pudenda- and phallus-shaped cakes. After the preliminary feast, the magistrates departed, and the heterai held a second rite that consisted of copious wine consumption, ritual symbolic fornication, and formal offerings of incense, grain, and cakes to sacred statues of the deities and to clay images of genitalia. Finally, the magistrates and priests were permitted to rejoin the ritual. A Priest and Priestess bore torches that symbolizes Demeter and her daughter Persephone presided over the final ceremony, which culminated in the ultimate celebration of fertility: an orgy that lasted til dawn.

          Wine grapes, myrrh, frankincense and olive leaf, and the warm scent of offertory cakes.
        • HERR DROSSELMEYER 2006 -- Magus, toymaker, and Godfather to Klara. An enigmatic man, seemingly somewhat sinister, but bearing a gentle air and a sincere love for children. This scent is dignified, refined, but dark, and hints towards esoteric mysteries and the secrets that tie mechanics to magick. Pipe smoke, sweet leather, woods and linen.
        • JACOB'S LADDER 2006 --
          And Jacob went out from Beersheba, and went toward Haran.

          And he lighted upon a certain place, and tarried there all night, because the sun was set; and he took of the stones of that place, and put them for his pillows, and lay down in that place to sleep.

          And he dreamed, and behold a ladder set up on the earth, and the top of it reached to heaven: and behold the angels of God ascending and descending on it.

          And, behold, the Lord stood above it, and said, I am the Lord God of Abraham thy father, and the God of Isaac: the land whereon thou liest, to thee will I give it, and to thy seed;

          And thy seed shall be as the dust of the earth, and thou shalt spread abroad to the west, and to the east, and to the north, and to the south: and in thee and in thy seed shall all the families of the earth be blessed.

          And, behold, I am with thee, and will keep thee in all places whither thou goest, and will bring thee again into this land; for I will not leave thee, until I have done that which I have spoken to thee of.

          And Jacob awaked out of his sleep, and he said, Surely the Lord is in this place; and I knew it not.

          And he was afraid, and said, How dreadful is this place! this is none other but the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven.

          The meeting of Heaven and Earth: golden amber, galbanum, benzoin, ambrette, rockrose, costus and tonka.
        • JÓLASVEINAR -- The Jólasveinar are the seventy-some offspring of Grýla and Leppalúði, an ogre couple with a taste for chomping naughty children. This impish brood delights in causing discomfort, sowing confusion, and all-out raising hell during the Yule season. Their names are indicative of their malicious intentions -- Strap Loosener, Door Slammer, Window Peeper, Sausage Snatcher, Doorway Sniffer, Icebreaker -- and their creepy natures -- Lamp Shadow, Smoke Gulper, Crevice Imp. The devillish Jólasveinar finally cease their mischief and head for home at Þrettándinn.

          Their scent is a mishmash of snow, dirt, Icelandic moss, marsh felwort, and the smushed petals of buttercups and moorland spotted orchids, with the barest hint of the scent of pilfered Christmas pastries.
        • KNECHT RUPRECHT --
          Von drauß' vom Walde komm ich her;
          Ich muß euch sagen, es weihnachtet sehr!
          Allüberall auf den Tannenspitzen
          Sah ich goldene Lichtlein sitzen;
          Und droben aus dem Himmelstor
          Sah mit großen Augen das Christkind hervor,
          Und wie ich so strolcht durch den finsteren Tann,
          Da rief's mich mit heller Stimme an.
          „Knecht Rupprecht”, rief es, „alter Gesell,
          Hebe die Beine und spute dich schnell!

          Die Kerzen fangen zu brennen an,
          Das Himmelstor ist aufgetan,
          Alt' und Junge sollen nun
          Von der Jagd des Lebens einmal ruhn;
          Und morgen flieg ich hinab zur Erden,
          Denn es soll wieder Weihnachten werden!”

          Ich sprach: „O lieber Herre Christ,
          Meine Reise fast zu Ende ist;
          Ich soll nur noch in diese Stadt,
          Wo's eitel gute Kinder hat.”
          „Hast denn das Säcklein auch bei Dir?”
          Ich sprach: „Das Säcklein, das ist hier;
          Denn Äpfel, Nuss und Mandelkern
          Fressen fromme Kinder gern.”
          „Hast denn die Rute auch bei Dir?”
          Ich sprach: „Die Rute, die ist hier;
          Doch für die Kinder nur, die schlechten,
          Die trifft sie auf den Teil, den rechten.”

          Christkindlein sprach: „So ist es recht;
          So geh mit Gott, mein treuer Knecht!”
          Von drauß' vom Walde komm ich her;
          Ich muß euch sagen, es weihnachtet sehr!
          Nun sprecht, wie ich's hierinnen find!
          Sind's gute Kind, sind's böse Kind?

          - - -

          I came here from the forest
          I tell you, it is a very holy night!
          All over the tips of the firs
          I saw bright flashes of golden light;
          And from above, the gates of heaven
          I saw with open eyes the Christ-child
          and as I wander through the dark forest
          I hear a light voice calling me.
          "Knecht Ruprecht" it called, "Old man
          Lift your legs and hurry! Fast!

          The candles alight
          the gates of heaven open wide
          old and young
          shall rest from the hunt of life
          and tomorrow I shall fly to earth
          as it shall be Christmas again!"

          I said: "O dear master, Christ
          My trip is almost at an end;
          It is only this one town / where the children are good".
          "Do you have your sack with you?"
          I said: "The sack, it is here;
          apples, nuts and almonds
          solemn children do enjoy".
          "Do you also have your cane?"
          I said: "The cane, it is here.
          But only for the bad children,
          to hit their right rear".

          The Christ-child spoke: "That is good;
          So go with god my faithful servant!"
          I came here from the forest
          I tell you, it is a very holy night!
          Speak now how I find it here
          Are the children good or bad?

          The snow-covered foliage of the Black Forest and the fruit and woods of apple and almond trees.
        • KRAMPUS -- Anything BUT jolly! Draped with chains and bells, wielding both whip and rod, this rag-clad, horned, red-skinned, soot-covered leering creature is both the companion and the antithesis of rosy-cheeked and ebullient Kris Kringle. He is called by many names, and, in a myriad of cultures, he is seen with different robes and faces, but he is nevertheless always a sinister and fearsome instrument of Santa’s wrath: he wields a switch on all irredeemably naughty children before tossing them into his large black sack and whisking them away. Be good, or Krampus will toss you in a river! Sinister red musk, black leather, dusty rags, and wooden switches.
        • LICK IT AGAIN -- Every holiday season should be full of lewd suggestions and filthy double entendres, right? This is a new take on last year’s Lick It – a peppermint candy cane with an extra jolt of sugar.

          As always, we have to state: don’t lick perfume. Don’t eat it, drink it, cook with it, or use it in any strange and unforeseen way. Black Phoenix is not responsible for that sort of irresponsible funnybusiness.
        • MIDNIGHT MASS 2006 --
          I will wash my hands among the innocent; and will compass thy altar, O Lord: That I may hear the voice of thy praise: and tell of all thy wondrous works. I have loved, O Lord, the beauty of thy house; and the place where thy glory dwelleth. Take not away my soul, O God, with the wicked: nor my life with bloody men: In whose hands are iniquities: their right hand is filled with gifts.

          But as for me, I have walked in my innocence: redeem me, and have mercy on me. My foot hath stood in the direct way: in the churches I will bless thee, O Lord.

          In Roman Catholic tradition, the Christmas season begins liturgically on Christmas Eve, though it is forbidden to celebrate the Christmas Mass before midnight. The most devout attend Midnight Mass, celebrating both the Eucharist and the drama of the Nativity.

          This perfume is a traditional Roman Catholic sacramental incense, most often used during a Solemn Mass. Traditionally, five tears of this incense, each encased individually in wax that has been fashioned into the shape of a nail, are inserted into the paschal candle. This is, of course, represents the Five Wounds of Our Risen Savior. Symbolically, the burning of the incense signifies spiritual fervor, the fragrance itself inspires virtue, and the rising smoke carries our prayers to God.

          Credo in unum Deum, Patrem omnipotentem, factorem caeli et terrae, visibilium omnium et invisibilium.

          Et in unum Dominum Iesum Christum, Filium Dei unigenitum, et ex Patre natum ante omnia saecula. Deum de Deo, Lumen de Lumine, Deum verum de Deo vero, genitum non factum, consubstantialem Patri; per quem omnia facta sunt. Qui propter nos homines et propter nostram salutem descendit de caelis. Et incarnatus est de Spiritu Sancto ex Maria Virgine, et homo factus est. Crucifixus etiam pro nobis sub Pontio Pilato, passus et sepultus est, et resurrexit tertia die, secundum Scripturas, et ascendit in caelum, sedet ad dexteram Patris. Et iterum venturus est cum gloria, iudicare vivos et mortuos, cuius regni non erit finis.

          Et in Spiritum Sanctum, Dominum et vivificantem, qui ex Patre procedit. Qui cum Patre et Filio simul adoratur et conglorificatur: qui locutus est per prophetas. Et unam, sanctam, catholicam et apostolicam Ecclesiam. Confiteor unum baptisma in remissionem peccatorum. Et expecto resurrectionem mortuorum, et vitam venturi saeculi. Amen.
        • THE SNOW MAIDEN -- The Snow Maiden is the daughter of Spring and Frost: as lovely as the first snowfall, and as striking as a sliver of icicle. Isolated because of her chilly otherworldly nature, and unable to know love, she longed for the companionship and warmth of mortals. One bright, white winter’s day, the Snow Maiden came upon a gentle, handsome shepherd named Lel. She grows fond of him, and beseeches Mother Spring to grant her the ability to feel. Her mother is moved by her daughters plight, and blesses her, but the moment the Snow Maiden is struck by the depth of love she feels for Lel, her heart warms, and she melts.

          Ylang ylang, osmanthus, spring berries, and daffodil cloaked in hoarfrost.
        • SNOW-FLAKES --
          Out of the bosom of the Air,
              Out of the cloud-folds of her garments shaken,
          Over the woodlands brown and bare,
              Over the harvest-fields forsaken,
                  Silent, and soft, and slow
                  Descends the snow.

          Even as our cloudy fancies take
              Suddenly shape in some divine expression,
          Even as the troubled heart doth make
              In the white countenance confession,
                  The troubled sky reveals
                  The grief it feels.

          This is the poem of the air,
              Slowly in silent syllables recorded;
          This is the secret of despair,
              Long in its cloudy bosom hoarded,
                  Now whispered and revealed
                  To wood and field.

          The radiance and desolation of winter.
        • SOL INVICTUS -- Sane, sol et in cloacam radios suos defert nec inquinatur.

          A radiant blend of solar oils: golden amber, saffron, heliotrope, hibiscus, citron, frangipani, frankincense, tangerine, mock orange, and orange blossom.
        • STARDUST 2006 -- When the holidays roll around, not everyone has mistletoe, caroling and cookies on their minds. This scent is a paean to celebrating hard: nights covered in glitter and dusted with cocaine, flutes of Cristal clutched in shaky hands, leather and lace, the Spiders From Mars in the background, and twisting, sweaty limbs entangled in dark corners. Hairspray and cigarette smoke is the incense in this temple to decadence, strobe and mirrors replace the devotional candles, and Bolan sings the hymns. This scent is for everyone that has every drifted off into Quaalude-induced reverie to the beat of a tribal 4-on-the-floor: the sound of Mott the Hoople, Sweet, Slade or the Dolls. This scent reflects the futurism, self-indulgence and excess of the Glitter 70’s: champagne, hyacinth, tuberose, ylang ylang and flashing white musk with jonquil, tobacco flower, white sandalwood and a pale poppy.
        • THE WINTER OF OUR DISCONTENT --
          Now is the winter of our discontent
          Made glorious summer by this sun of York;
          And all the clouds that lour'd upon our house
          In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.
          Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths;
          Our bruised arms hung up for monuments;
          Our stern alarums chang'd to merry meetings,
          Our dreadful marches to delightful measures.
          Grim-visag'd war hath smooth'd his wrinkled front;
          And now, -- instead of mounting barbed steeds
          To fright the souls of fearful adversaries, --
          He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber
          To the lascivious pleasing of a lute.
          But I, -- that am not shap'd for sportive tricks,
          Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass;
          I, that am rudely stamp'd, and want love's majesty
          To strut before a wanton ambling nymph;
          I, that am curtail'd of this fair proportion,
          Cheated of feature by dissembling nature,
          Deform'd, unfinish'd, sent before my time
          Into this breathing world scarce half made up,
          And that so lamely and unfashionable
          That dogs bark at me as I halt by them; --
          Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace,
          Have no delight to pass away the time,
          Unless to spy my shadow in the sun,
          And descant on mine own deformity:
          And therefore, -- since I cannot prove a lover,
          To entertain these fair well-spoken days, --
          I am determined to prove a villain,
          And hate the idle pleasures of these days.
          Plots have I laid, inductions dangerous,
          By drunken prophecies, libels, and dreams,
          To set my brother Clarence and the king
          In deadly hate the one against the other:
          And if King Edward be as true and just
          As I am subtle, false, and treacherous,
          This day should Clarence closely be mew'd up, --
          About a prophecy which says that G
          Of Edward's heirs the murderer shall be.
          Dive, thoughts, down to my soul...

          Embrace your villainy: balsam, myrrh, mandarin orange, bitter clove, artemesia, rosewood, nutmeg, dark musk, smoke and cypress.
        • YULE -- The Holly King and Oak King each hold sway for half of the year, and engage in an epic, eternal battle at Litha and Yule. In truth, they are each a half of the whole – known by many names: Pashupati, Caerwiden, Herne, Pan, Puck, Cernunnos, the Green Man, the Horned God – and as the Holly and Oak Kings represent the light and dark halves of the year, thus do they also represent the light and dark halves of the deity, and thereby, of ourselves.

          During the darkness of the year, though it seems cold, barren, and bleak, the earth holds the warmth of life deep within itself, and in the depth of its shadows is the eternal promise of renewal and rebirth.

          It is Yule, and the Holly King has slain the Oak: blood red holly berry, mistletoe, wild thyme, verbena, cinquefoil, hemp, winter rose, evergreen, frankincense, juniper, and myrrh.
        And that ain’t all for winter. That’s just all for now.

        Happy Friday the 13th, ladies and gentlemen!





        From the 5 October 2006 update:

        WHITE MOON
        Look down, fair moon, and bathe this scene;
        Pour softly down night’s nimbus floods, on faces ghastly, swollen, purple;
        On the dead, on their backs, with their arms toss’d wide,
        Pour down your unstinted nimbus, sacred moon.

        The chill winds and dark skies of November mark a time of reflection and release, and though the sting of grief is oft-times most painful during this portion of the year, the icy air brings clarity and eases the burden of suffering. These are the blossoms of loss and liberation, soothed by the calm, comforting scent of sandalwood : lilac, calla lily, wisteria, white sandalwood, moonflower, night musk, phlox, and violet.



        From the 6 September 2006 update:

        Good evening, all! Kindly Moon is going up a few hours early tonight. We’re still in the middle of working on the BPTP update, and I want to get a few more hours of labor into it tonight before I pass out. The Kindly Moon tee will be available when the BPTP update goes live. =)

        KINDLY MOON
        Hide this one night thy crescent, kindly Moon;
        So shall Endymion faithful prove, and rest
        Loving and unawakened on the breast;
        So shall no foul enchanter importune
        Thy quiet course; for now the night is boon,
        And through the friendly night unseen I fare,
        Who dread the face of foemen unaware,
        And watch of hostile spies in the bright noon.
        Thou knowest, Moon, the bitter power of Love;
        'Tis told how shepherd Pan found ways to move,
        For little price, thy heart; and of your grace,
        Sweet stars, be kind to this not alien fire,
        Because on earth ye did not scorn desire,
        Bethink ye, now ye hold your heavenly place.

        Utterly ethereal, an exquisite expression of love: moonflower, lotus root, white gardenia, beeswax, peach blossom, blue musk, stargazer lily, golden osmanthus, ti, sandalwood, hyacinth, ylang ylang, and a touch of vanilla bean.



        From the 28 August 2006 update:

        Hey! September 2nd is almost here! Don’t forget to mark “Birthday Spankings For Brian” on your calendars! Some of the BPAL crew is heading out to Vegas for the weekend to celebrate, but fear not: we're only gone Saturday and Sunday, so birthday shennanigans shan't affect order turnaround.

        Hell, even Lab Rats have to party a little once in a while. ;)

        The Trading Post will be updating with a new selection of tees tomorrow night, and – at long last! – the lockets are back in stock, and will be available for sale tomorrow evening. The Big Ol’ BPTP Update is slotted for next week, so keep your eyes peeled!

        Holy moly! Wotta update!

        Happy Halloweenie, all! For the first time, Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab has shifted gears with a Limited Edition series, and last year’s Springtime In Arkham has been reborn as the general catalogue section, A Picnic In Arkham. Limited Edition scents are limited for a number of reasons, the most common being cost of production and the limited quantity of component oils used in their manufacture. We have wanted for ages to bring back many of the Arkham scents, but it proved impossible until about a month ago. Since we received the good news, we’ve compiled the scents that we are able to put into constant production and have added a few newcomers. Fergit ants! – night-gaunts are going to be all over those jelly sandwiches of yours!

          A PICNIC IN ARKHAM
          AL AZIF -- An Arabic term that refers to both the chirping of nocturnal insects and the ambient sound made by the chattering of demons. This is the original title of the feared Necronomicon, the Book of Dead Names, penned by the Mad Arab, Abdul Alhazred.

          Nor is it to be thought that man is either the oldest or the last of earth’s masters, or that the common bulk of life and substances walks alone. The Old Ones were, the Old Ones are, and the Old Ones shall be. Not in the spaces we know, but between them, They walk serene and primal, undimensioned and to us unseen. Yog-Sothoth knows the gate. Yog-Sothoth is the gate. Yog-Sothoth is the key and guardian of the gate. Past, present, future, all are one in Yog-Sothoth. He knows where the Old Ones broke through of old, and where They shall break through again. He knows where They have trod earth’s fields, and where They still tread them, and why no one can behold Them as They tread. By Their smell can men sometimes know Them near, but of Their semblance can no man know, saving only in the features of those They have begotten on mankind; and of those are there many sorts, differing in likeness from man’s truest eidolon to that shape without sight or substance which is Them. They walk unseen and foul in lonely places where the Words have been spoken and the Rites howled through at their Seasons. The wind gibbers with Their voices, and the earth mutters with Their consciousness. They bend the forest and crush the city, yet may not forest or city behold the hand that smites. Kadath in the cold waste hath known Them, and what man knows Kadath? The ice desert of the South and the sunken isles of Ocean hold stones where Their seal is engraven, but who hath seen the deep frozen city or the sealed tower long garlanded with seaweed and barnacles? Great Cthulhu is Their cousin, yet can he spy Them only dimly. Iä! Shub-Niggurath! As a foulness shall ye know Them. Their hand is at your throats, yet ye see Them not; and Their habitation is even one with your guarded threshold. Yog-Sothoth is the key to the gate, whereby the spheres meet. Man rules now where They ruled once; They shall soon rule where man rules now. After summer is winter, and after winter summer. They wait patient and potent, for here shall They reign again.

          A sinister, sinuous incense of summoning, a herald and paean to the Primordial Gods of Darkness, Chaos, Madness and Decay.
        • ARKHAM -- Behind everything crouched the brooding, festering horror of the ancient town, and of the mouldy, unhallowed garret gable where he wrote and studied and wrestled with figures and formulae when he was not tossing on the meager iron bed. His ears were growing sensitive to a preternatural and intolerable degree, and he had long ago stopped the cheap mantel clock whose ticking had come to seem like a thunder of artillery. At night the subtle stirring of the black city outside, the sinister scurrying of rats in the wormy partitions, and the creaking of hidden timbers in the centuried house, were enough to give him a sense of strident pandemonium. The darkness always teemed with unexplained sound - and yet he sometimes shook with fear lest the noises he heard should subside and allow him to hear certain other fainter noises which he suspected were lurking behind them.

          He was in the changeless, legend-haunted city of Arkham, with its clustering gambrel roofs that sway and sag over attics where witches hid from the King's men in the dark, olden years of the Province.

          A shadowy, unapproachable forest of maple, birch, dogwood, cypress and pine softened by a garland of New England wildflowers: bergamot, columbine, rue anemone, blue violet, creeping phlox, bloodroot, toadflax, and pixie moss.
        • AZATHOTH -- The Daemon Sultan, Seething Nuclear Chaos

          ...that last amorphous blight of nethermost confusion which blasphemes and bubbles at the centre of all infinity -- the boundless daemon-sultan Azathoth, whose name no lips dare speak aloud, and who gnaws hungrily in inconceivable, unlighted chambers beyond time amidst the muffled, maddening beating of vile drums and the thin, monotonous whine of accursed flutes; to which detestable pounding and piping dance slowly, awkwardly, and absurdly the gigantic ultimate gods, the blind, voiceless, tenebrous, mindless Other Gods whose soul and messenger is the crawling chaos Nyarlathotep.

          Azathoth is the blind, idiot god who sits on a black throne at the center of Chaos. His scent is high-pitched and screeching, both impenetrably dark and searingly bright with the clarity of madness: tangerine, saffron, vetiver, black amber and cedarwood.
        • CTHULHU -- If I say that my somewhat extravagant imagination yielded simultaneous pictures of an octopus, a dragon, and a human caricature, I shall not be unfaithful to the spirit of the thing. A pulpy, tentacled head surmounted a grotesque and scaly body with rudimentary wings... It represented a monster of vaguely anthropoid outline, but with an octopus-like head whose face was a mass of feelers, a scaly, rubbery-looking body, prodigious claws on hind and fore feet, and long, narrow wings behind. This thing, which seemed instinct with a fearsome and unnatural malignancy, was of a somewhat bloated corpulence...

          A creeping, wet, slithering scent, dripping with seaweed, oceanic plants and dark, unfathomable waters.
        • THE HIGH PRIEST NOT TO BE DESCRIBED -- ...and there... sat a lumpish figure robed in yellow silk with red and having a yellow silken mask over its face. To this being the slant-eyed man made certain signs with his hands, and the lurker in the dark replied by raising a disgustingly carven flute of ivory in silk covered paws and blowing certain loathesome sounds from beneath its flowing silken mask.

          Monastic incense, blood musk, black leather, cypress, pimento, white pepper, and Roman chamomile.
        • MISKATONIC UNIVERSITY -- A venerable New England university, whose vast library holds many rare, diabolical and obscure arcane works, including one of the few surviving legitimate copies of the Necronomicon. Home to innumerable scholars of the esoteric and the occult, and the notorious Dr. Herbert West.

          The scent of Irish coffee, dusty tomes and polished oakwood halls.
        • THE MUSIC OF ERICH ZAHN -- Louder and louder, wilder and wilder, mounted the shrieking and whining of that desperate viol. The player was dripping with an uncanny perspiration and twisted like a monkey, always looking frantically at the curtained window. In his frenzied strains I could almost see shadowy satyrs and bacchanals dancing and whirling insanely through seething abysses of clouds and smoke and lightning. And then I thought I heard a shriller, steadier note that was not from the viol; a calm, deliberate, purposeful, mocking note from far away in the West.

          A ghoulish and tortured scent, suffused with the blackness of space illimitable: ajowan, vetiver, black musk, opoponax, mimosa, and tamarind.
        • NIGHT-GAUNT -- No one ever found what the night-gaunts took, though those beasts themselves were so uncertain as to be almost fabulous. Carter asked them if night-gaunts sucked blood and liked shiny things and left webbed footprints, but they all shook their heads negatively and seemed frightened at his making such an inquiry. When he saw how taciturn they had become he asked them no more, but went to sleep in his blanket.

          Their scent of their slick, rubbery hides is bittersweet, ticklish, and skin-creeping: something akin to yuzu, white grapefruit, and kumquat mixed with the snow-dusted flowers of Mount Ngranek.
        • SHOGGOTH -- It was a terrible, indescribable thing vaster than any subway train – a shapeless congerie of protoplasmic bubbles, faintly self-luminous, and with myriads of temporary eyes forming and un-forming as pustules of greenish light all over the tunnel-filling front that bore down upon us, crushing the frantic penguins and slithering over the glistening floor that it and its kind had swept so evilly free of all litter.

          An amorphous, radiant, incandescent scent. Ever changing, protoplasmic and primordial: white amber, green coconut meat, iris, palmarosa, Chinese peony, lime, water lily, snowdrop, muguet, lemongrass, osmanthus, wisteria, glassy musk, and hinoki.
        • Y'HA-NTHLEI -- We shall swim out to that brooding reef in the sea and dive down through black abysses to Cyclopean and many-columned Y'ha-nthlei, and in that lair of the Deep Ones we shall dwell amidst wonder and glory for ever.

          A great undersea metropolis located below Devil's Reef. A swirling, lightless, effervescent scent: the deepest marine notes with bergamot, eucalyptus and foamy ambergris.

        R'lyeh and Nyarlathotep have been pulled from Wanderlust and Excolo, respectively, and have been put into their proper place. If possible, we will be incorporating some of the other original Springtime scents, but at this point, I’m not making any promises.

        This is the traditional onset of the Halloween season at BPAL, and this year’s Halloweenie LE offerings are:
          HALLOWEENIE
        • ALL SAINTS 2006 -- Based on a venerable French pontifical incense blend: monastic frankincense and myrrh, Damascus rose, Russian gardenia, cassia, and lily of the valley wafting on a chill Autumn wind. A celebration of the glory and suffering of the saints and matryrs of the Church.
        • ALL SOULS -- A day of remembrance and intercession. Without the prayers and sacrifices of their families and loved ones, the faithful departed may not be cleansed of their venal sins, and thereby cannot attain beatific vision. On November 2nd, prayers are sung and offerings are made to aid lost souls in transcending purgatory. An incense blend that invokes the higher qualities of mercy and compassion, mingled with the soft, sugared currant scent of offertory soul cakes.
        • CREEPY -- This season’s Ridiculous Scent! As creepy as Spooky was spooky, this is the scent of butterscotch-kissed, caramel-smothered red apples spiked with a blast of coconut rum.
        • DEVIL’S NIGHT 2006 -- Devil’s Eve, Devil’s Night, Gate Night, Trick Night, Mischief Night; whatever your name for it might be, the chaos is still the same. Contrary to popular belief, this festival of pandemonium isn’t unique to Detroit. Falling on October 30th, it is an evening of mayhem and destruction. On the gentler side, it may be celebrated by practical jokes, an egging, Ding-Dong-Ditch, or enthusiastic TP’ing of your most hated neighbor’s trees, and on the more violent side, arson and vandalism. This is the scent of autumn night, fires in the distance, with a touch of boozy swoon, playful sugar and thuggish musk.
        • DIA DE LOS MUERTOS 2006 -- A joyous celebration of La Catarina, La Flaca, La Muerte Glorious, Beautiful Death. In Mexico, death is not something to be feared or hated; She is embraced, loved, and adored. La Muerte is fêted, as the celebrant " chases after it, mocks it, courts it, hugs it, sleeps with it; it is his favorite plaything and his most lasting love." This is a Mexican paean to La Huesuda: dry, crackling leaves, the incense smoke of altars honoring Death and the Dead, funeral bouquets, the candies, chocolates, foods and tobacco of the ofrenda, amaranth, sweet cactus blossom and desert cereus.
        • PUMPKIN QUEEN -- The Glorious Grand Dame of the Pumpkin Patch! Regal Egyptian Amber, red ginger, orange peel, mandarin, cardamom, fig leaf and warm pumpkin.
        • PUNKIE NIGHT -- Once upon a time, on a wild October night many years ago, a fair took place at Chiselborough. The men of the village of Hinton St. George made their way to the fair, and spent the night in revelry, drinking and carrying on, far into the darkest hours. Their wives grew concerned, and went looking for their unruly husbands. In order to see their way through the autumn gloom, they hollowed out mangel-wurzels and crafted them into makeshift lanterns. The drunken men, in their sloshy haze, saw the ghostly lights approaching, and believed them to be goolies – the furious spirits of unbaptized children. In terror, they fled in panic from their bemused, bewildered wives.

          To this day, that night of foolishness is still celebrated! This is a light-hearted scent: apple orchards, bright cranberries, and a touch of warm cider.
        • SAMHAIN 2006 -- Truly the scent of autumn itself -- damp woods, fir needle, and black patchouli with the gentlest touches of warm pumpkin, clove, nutmeg, allspice, sweet red apple and mullein.
        • SAMHAINOPHOBIA -- The fear of Halloween. Menacing Haitian vetiver, patchouli, and clove with a shock of bourbon geranium, grim oakmoss, and dread-inspiring balsams pierce the innocuous scent of autumn leaves.
        • SUGAR SKULL 2006 -- Vibrant with the joy and sweetness of life in death! A blend of five sugars, lightly dusted with candied fruits.

        The Pumpkin Patch is being revisited, and the whole kit and caboodle of pumpkinny goodness can be yours for $75!
          PUMPKIN PATCH REVISITED
        • Pumpkin with apple cider and mulling spice.
        • Pumpkin with cocoa, hazelnut and walnut.
        • Pumpkin and pomegranate.
        • Pumpkin with sandalwood and orris.
        • Pumpkin with five woods, English ivy and galangal root.

        In addition, we are paying an autumnal visit to Transylvania with a Limited Edition subseries, The Order of the Dragon:
          THE ORDER OF THE DRAGON
        • THE BLOODY SWORD -- Blood is too precious a thing in these days of dishonourable peace, and the glories of the great races are as a tale that is told. A distillation of force, conquest, power and fury: dragon’s blood, myrrh, black pepper, labdanum, benzoin, leather, fire, and steel.
        • THE BRIDES OF DRACULA -- In the moonlight opposite me were three young women, ladies by their dress and manner. I thought at the time that I must be dreaming when I saw them, they threw no shadow on the floor. They came close to me, and looked at me for some time, and then whispered together. Two were dark, and had high aquiline noses, like the Count, and great dark, piercing eyes, that seemed to be almost red when contrasted with the pale yellow moon. The other was fair, as fair as can be, with great masses of golden hair and eyes like pale sapphires. I seemed somehow to know her face, and to know it in connection with some dreamy fear, but I could not recollect at the moment how or where. All three had brilliant white teeth that shone like pearls against the ruby of their voluptuous lips. There was something about them that made me uneasy, some longing and at the same time some deadly fear. I felt in my heart a wicked, burning desire that they would kiss me with those red lips. It is not good to note this down, lest some day it should meet Mina's eyes and cause her pain, but it is the truth. They whispered together, and then they all three laughed, such a silvery, musical laugh, but as hard as though the sound never could have come through the softness of human lips. It was like the intolerable, tingling sweetness of waterglasses when played on by a cunning hand.

          Unquenchable desire, seething lust, malevolent sexuality, and voracious hunger lurking beneath a shimmering veil of unearthly beauty: gleaming skin musk, honey and white amber, plum blossom, osmanthus, sandalwood, calla lily, and a light, sensual blend of Eastern spices.

          I lay quiet, looking out from under my eyelashes in an agony of delightful anticipation. The fair girl advanced and bent over me till I could feel the movement of her breath upon me. Sweet it was in one sense, honey-sweet, and sent the same tingling through the nerves as her voice, but with a bitter underlying the sweet, a bitter offensiveness, as one smells in blood.

          I was afraid to raise my eyelids, but looked out and saw perfectly under the lashes. The girl went on her knees, and bent over me, simply gloating. There was a deliberate voluptuousness which was both thrilling and repulsive, and as she arched her neck she actually licked her lips like an animal, till I could see in the moonlight the moisture shining on the scarlet lips and on the red tongue as it lapped the white sharp teeth. Lower and lower went her head as the lips went below the range of my mouth and chin and seemed to fasten on my throat. Then she paused, and I could hear the churning sound of her tongue as it licked her teeth and lips, and I could feel the hot breath on my neck. Then the skin of my throat began to tingle as one's flesh does when the hand that is to tickle it approaches nearer, nearer. I could feel the soft, shivering touch of the lips on the super sensitive skin of my throat, and the hard dents of two sharp teeth, just touching and pausing there. I closed my eyes in languorous ecstasy and waited, waited with beating heart.
        • CARFAX ABBEY -- "At Purfleet, on a byroad, I came across just such a place as seemed to be required, and where was displayed a dilapidated notice that the place was for sale. It was surrounded by a high wall, of ancient structure, built of heavy stones, and has not been repaired for a large number of years. The closed gates are of heavy old oak and iron, all eaten with rust.

          "The estate is called Carfax, no doubt a corruption of the old Quatre Face, as the house is four sided, agreeing with the cardinal points of the compass. It contains in all some twenty acres, quite surrounded by the solid stone wall above mentioned. There are many trees on it, which make it in places gloomy, and there is a deep, dark-looking pond or small lake, evidently fed by some springs, as the water is clear and flows away in a fair-sized stream. The house is very large and of all periods back, I should say, to mediaeval times, for one part is of stone immensely thick, with only a few windows high up and heavily barred with iron. It looks like part of a keep, and is close to an old chapel or church. I could not enter it, as I had not the key of the door leading to it from the house, but I have taken with my Kodak views of it from various points. The house had been added to, but in a very straggling way, and I can only guess at the amount of ground it covers, which must be very great. There are but few houses close at hand, one being a very large house only recently added to and formed into a private lunatic asylum. It is not, however, visible from the grounds."

          The scent of abandoned places, of desolation and emptiness: heavy woods and thin dusty herbs touched by the wafting incense of a nearby chapel.
        • THE CARPATHIAN MOUNTAINS -- Beyond the green swelling hills of the Mittel Land rose mighty slopes of forest up to the lofty steeps of the Carpathians themselves. Right and left of us they towered, with the afternoon sun falling full upon them and bringing out all the glorious colours of this beautiful range, deep blue and purple in the shadows of the peaks, green and brown where grass and rock mingled, and an endless perspective of jagged rock and pointed crags, till these were themselves lost in the distance, where the snowy peaks rose grandly. Here and there seemed mighty rifts in the mountains, through which, as the sun began to sink, we saw now and again the white gleam of falling water. One of my companions touched my arm as we swept round the base of a hill and opened up the lofty, snow-covered peak of a mountain, which seemed, as we wound on our serpentine way, to be right before us.

          Mountain air and the scent of crisp snow blanketing the mountain’s flora: Scottish fir, beech, cembra and mugho pine, rhododendron, currant, honeysuckle, raspberry leaf, dwarf juniper, sedge, meadow grass, snowdrop, rose bay, lily of the valley, starwort, lichen and mosses.

          "My friend.--Welcome to the Carpathians. I am anxiously expecting you. Sleep well tonight. At three tomorrow the diligence will start for Bukovina; a place on it is kept for you. At the Borgo Pass my carriage will await you and will bring you to me. I trust that your journey from London has been a happy one, and that you will enjoy your stay in my beautiful land. -- Your friend, Dracula."
        • THE CASTLE -- The view was magnificent, and from where I stood there was every opportunity of seeing it. The castle is on the very edge of a terrific precipice. A stone falling from the window would fall a thousand feet without touching anything! As far as the eye can reach is a sea of green tree tops, with occasionally a deep rift where there is a chasm. Here and there are silver threads where the rivers wind in deep gorges through the forests.

          But I am not in heart to describe beauty, for when I had seen the view I explored further. Doors, doors, doors everywhere, and all locked and bolted. In no place save from the windows in the castle walls is there an available exit. The castle is a veritable prison, and I am a prisoner!

          A distant whisper of pine, wet moss and dry leaves passing through vast halls and winding dungeons whose scent bears the memory of blood, faded splendor, imperial elegance and stunning violence.
        • COUNT DRACULA -- He must, indeed, have been that Voivode Dracula who won his name against the Turk, over the great river on the very frontier of Turkeyland. If it be so, then was he no common man, for in that time, and for centuries after, he was spoken of as the cleverest and the most cunning, as well as the bravest of the sons of the 'land beyond the forest.' That mighty brain and that iron resolution went with him to his grave, and are even now arrayed against us. The Draculas were, says Arminius, a great and noble race, though now and again were scions who were held by their coevals to have had dealings with the Evil One. They learned his secrets in the Scholomance, amongst the mountains over Lake Hermanstadt, where the devil claims the tenth scholar as his due. In the records are such words as 'stregoica' witch, 'ordog' and 'pokol' Satan and hell, and in one manuscript this very Dracula is spoken of as 'wampyr,' which we all understand too well. There have been from the loins of this very one great men and good women, and their graves make sacred the earth where alone this foulness can dwell. For it is not the least of its terrors that this evil thing is rooted deep in all good, in soil barren of holy memories it cannot rest.

          The essence of nobility, brutality and true Will made flesh and propelled through the eons by an ever-burning hatred: black patchouli, neroli, tonka, cinnamon, bitter clove, leather, black musk, coffin wood and fiery ginger.
        • JOHNATHAN HARKER -- Just before I was leaving, the old lady came up to my room and said in a hysterical way: "Must you go? Oh! Young Herr, must you go?" She was in such an excited state that she seemed to have lost her grip of what German she knew, and mixed it all up with some other language which I did not know at all. I was just able to follow her by asking many questions. When I told her that I must go at once, and that I was engaged on important business, she asked again:

          "Do you know what day it is?" I answered that it was the fourth of May. She shook her head as she said again:

          "Oh, yes! I know that! I know that, but do you know what day it is?"

          On my saying that I did not understand, she went on:

          "It is the eve of St. George's Day. Do you not know that tonight, when the clock strikes midnight, all the evil things in the world will have full sway? Do you know where you are going, and what you are going to?" She was in such evident distress that I tried to comfort her, but without effect. Finally, she went down on her knees and implored me not to go; at least to wait a day or two before starting.

          It was all very ridiculous but I did not feel comfortable. However, there was business to be done, and I could allow nothing to interfere with it.

          I tried to raise her up, and said, as gravely as I could, that I thanked her, but my duty was imperative, and that I must go.

          She then rose and dried her eyes, and taking a crucifix from her neck offered it to me.

          I did not know what to do, for, as an English Churchman, I have been taught to regard such things as in some measure idolatrous, and yet it seemed so ungracious to refuse an old lady meaning so well and in such a state of mind.

          She saw, I suppose, the doubt in my face, for she put the rosary round my neck and said, "For your mother's sake," and went out of the room.

          A respectable gentleman’s scent: lavender, iris, white tea, verbena and white sandalwood.
        • QUINCEY MORRIS -- Well, my dear, number Two came after lunch. He is such a nice fellow, an American from Texas, and he looks so young and so fresh that it seems almost impossible that he has been to so many places and has such adventures I suppose that we women are such cowards that we think a man will save us from fears, and we marry him. I know now what I would do if I were a man and wanted to make a girl love me. No, I don't, for there was Mr. Morris telling us his stories, and Arthur never told any, and yet

          My dear, I am somewhat previous. Mr. Quincy P. Morris found me alone. It seems that a man always does find a girl alone. No, he doesn't, for Arthur tried twice to make a chance, and I helping him all I could, I am not ashamed to say it now. I must tell you beforehand that Mr. Morris doesn't always speak slang, that is to say, he never does so to strangers or before them, for he is really well educated and has exquisite manners, but he found out that it amused me to hear him talk American slang, and whenever I was present, and there was no one to be shocked, he said such funny things. I am afraid, my dear, he has to invent it all, for it fits exactly into whatever else he has to say. But this is a way slang has. I do not know myself if I shall ever speak slang. I do not know if Arthur likes it, as I have never heard him use any as yet.

          Well, Mr. Morris sat down beside me and looked as happy and jolly as he could, but I could see all the same that he was very nervous. He took my hand in his, and said ever so sweetly

          "Miss Lucy, I know I ain't good enough to regulate the fixin's of your little shoes, but I guess if you wait till you find a man that is you will go join them seven young women with the lamps when you quit. Won't you just hitch up alongside of me and let us go down the long road together, driving in double harness?"

          Rough on the edges, but possessing the true essence of valor and nobility of spirit: tobacco, vanilla, white pear, cedar, rugged musk and saddle leather.
        • WILHELMINA MURRAY -- With his left hand he held both Mrs. Harker's hands, keeping them away with her arms at full tension. His right hand gripped her by the back of the neck, forcing her face down on his bosom. Her white nightdress was smeared with blood, and a thin stream trickled down the man's bare chest which was shown by his torn-open dress. The attitude of the two had a terrible resemblance to a child forcing a kitten's nose into a saucer of milk to compel it to drink.

          Tea rose, white sandalwood and a flurry of pale, virginal blossoms, smeared with a smoky, blood-soiled blend of myrrh, hyacinth, Daemonorops resin, dark musk and blackcurrant.

          Van Helsing, Art, and I moved forward to Mrs. Harker, who by this time had drawn her breath and with it had given a scream so wild, so ear-piercing, so despairing that it seems to me now that it will ring in my ears till my dying day. For a few seconds she lay in her helpless attitude and disarray. Her face was ghastly, with a pallor which was accentuated by the blood which smeared her lips and cheeks and chin. From her throat trickled a thin stream of blood. Her eyes were mad with terror. Then she put before her face her poor crushed hands, which bore on their whiteness the red mark of the Count's terrible grip, and from behind them came a low desolate wail which made the terrible scream seem only the quick expression of an endless grief.

        • R.M. RENFIELD -- R. M, Renfield, age 59. Sanguine temperament, great physical strength, morbidly excitable, periods of gloom, ending in some fixed idea which I cannot make out. I presume that the sanguine temperament itself and the disturbing influence end in a mentally-accomplished finish, a possibly dangerous man, probably dangerous if unselfish. In selfish men caution is as secure an armour for their foes as for themselves. What I think of on this point is, when self is the fixed point the centripetal force is balanced with the centrifugal. When duty, a cause, etc., is the fixed point, the latter force is paramount, and only accident or a series of accidents can balance it.

          Unhinged: moss, cumin, patchouli, Balsam of Peru, and neroli.
        • DR. JOHN SEWARD -- Well, my dear, number One came just before lunch. I told you of him, Dr. John Seward, the lunatic asylum man, with the strong jaw and the good forehead. He was very cool outwardly, but was nervous all the same. He had evidently been schooling himself as to all sorts of little things, and remembered them, but he almost managed to sit down on his silk hat, which men don't generally do when they are cool, and then when he wanted to appear at ease he kept playing with a lancet in a way that made me nearly scream. He spoke to me, Mina, very straightforwardly. He told me how dear I was to him, though he had known me so little, and what his life would be with me to help and cheer him. He was going to tell me how unhappy he would be if I did not care for him, but when he saw me cry he said he was a brute and would not add to my present trouble. Then he broke off and asked if I could love him in time, and when I shook my head his hands trembled, and then with some hesitation he asked me if I cared already for any one else. He put it very nicely, saying that he did not want to wring my confidence from me, but only to know, because if a woman's heart was free a man might have hope. And then, Mina, I felt a sort of duty to tell him that there was some one. I only told him that much, and then he stood up, and he looked very strong and very grave as he took both my hands in his and said he hoped I would be happy, and that If I ever wanted a friend I must count him one of my best.

          Penetrating and gifted, vulnerable, with just a hint of opium-blurred delirium: poppy smoke, champaca flower, tonka, sandalwood, ginger, white pepper.
        • LUCY WESTENRA -- When Lucy, I call the thing that was before us Lucy because it bore her shape, saw us she drew back with an angry snarl, such as a cat gives when taken unawares, then her eyes ranged over us. Lucy's eyes in form and color, but Lucy's eyes unclean and full of hell fire, instead of the pure, gentle orbs we knew. At that moment the remnant of my love passed into hate and loathing. Had she then to be killed, I could have done it with savage delight. As she looked, her eyes blazed with unholy light, and the face became wreathed with a voluptuous smile. Oh, God, how it made me shudder to see it! With a careless motion, she flung to the ground, callous as a devil, the child that up to now she had clutched strenuously to her breast, growling over it as a dog growls over a bone. The child gave a sharp cry, and lay there moaning. There was a cold-bloodedness in the act which wrung a groan from Arthur. When she advanced to him with outstretched arms and a wanton smile he fell back and hid his face in his hands.

          She still advanced, however, and with a languorous, voluptuous grace, said, "Come to me, Arthur. Leave these others and come to me. My arms are hungry for you. Come, and we can rest together. Come, my husband, come!"

          A wanton beauty, corrupt, hypnotic, seductive, and feral: magnolia, iris, Moroccan rose, frankincense, crushed jasmine blossom, blood orange, tobacco flower and white musk.
        A million thanks to the mods of the bpal.org indy forum for all their help with this update!

        Black Moon and Schwarzer Mond are staying live for a few extra days, and will be coming down on August 31, 2006. It is $25 per 5ml bottle of Black Moon or Schwarzer Mond or $45 for both moons.

        The Order of the Dragon and the Halloweenies will be live/undead until December 1, 2006, and as always, no imp's ears are available for Limited Edition scents.


        From the 23 August 2006 update:

        The Black Moon is darkening the skies above the Lab!

        The Dark Moon is a time of secrets and hidden truths, of veils and binding, justice and revenge. It is sacred to the Crone, and to Gods and Goddesses of magick, death, and mysteries.

        The Black Moon has many meanings, but in any incarnation, it signifies a swelling of power. To us, it is the Blue Moon’s dark sister.

        We at Black Phoenix present two interpretations of the Black Moon’s energy:

        Black Moon: Beth’s Creation
        The absence of light: motia attar, black orchid, mugwort, English pear, cucumber, blue lotus, jonquil, massoia, calamus and crystal musk.

        Schwarzer Mond: Brian’s Creation
        The keeper of secrets: opoponax, Tunisian black amber, night musk, antique patchouli, zdravetz, terebinth, myrrh, and Pimenta racemosa.


        From the 11 August 2006 update:

        10ml's go poof!


        From the 8 August 2006 update:

        As of Chrysanthemum Moon, our monthly Lunacy will stretch from a single 24-hour period to three days. As many of you know, A Little Lunacy is a monthly rotating Limited Edition series that BPAL started in June 2004. On the night of the Full Moon – and now, beginning on the night prior to the Full Moon and running through the night after the Full Moon – we present a scent to our clients that is dedicated to the season that moon falls within, the mythological theme of that moon, the agricultural or mystic rituals that mark the day, or holy days that fall at that time.

        And sometimes, as is with the case of Chrysanthemum Moon, we go in strange directions.

        Moon, moon, moon. I typed that word a lot, didn’t I?

        Why three days? Well, we want to make things as painless as possible for our clients and, as Shollin (from the bpal indy forum) said, "Hey, if it's good enough for werewolves, it's good enough for the Lunacy."

        Agreed!

        The 10mls and F5 will be going the way of the dodo when Chrysanthemum Moon vanishes: minutes into August 11th, PST. As a small reminder, CT:3 and Et Lux Fuit will be coming down on the 15th, and the Halloween update is going live later this month.

        Chrysanthemum Moon is also live at the Black Phoenix Trading Post. I went to an opium den and all I got was this lousy t-shirt! A stunningly seedy rendition of the sign that adorns Carnaval Diabolique's most notorious opium den, Chrysanthemum Moon. Another morbid memento by the glorious Jennifer Williamson. Deep brown distressed ink with golden glitter highlights.

        chrysanthemum moon

        Due to the glittery goodness and multiple colors, the price for this tee is slightly higher:
        Crew neck - $17.00
        Babydoll - $22.00
        3X Crew Neck - $19.00

        I truly hope that everyone enjoys the direction that we went with this Lunacy!


        From the 3 August 2006 update:

        Oh lord, what a year! The ship times are returning to normal, and – yet again – I have to offer our thanks to all of you for your patience and kindness during the roughest time that BPAL has ever experienced.

        Without further adieu, let’s kick this off!

        carnaval diabolique

        THE CARNAVAL HAS ARRIVED!

        Carnaval Diabolique is a series comprised of seven acts. The first two are now presented for your pleasure and amusement, and the following acts will appear over the next 13 months. A million truly heartfelt thanks to Gennivre, L'Artiste du Diable, for all her blood and sweat, and for the phenomenal, perverse magick that she created for our devilish enterprise. Basil Hallward would be proud!

        In addition to the Carnaval’s macabre offerings, we also submit the following general catalogue scents for your consideration

          BEWITCHING BREWS
        • I DIED FOR BEAUTY --
          I died for beauty but was scarce
          Adjusted in the tomb,
          When one who died for truth was lain
          In an adjoining room.

          He questioned softly why I failed?
          "For beauty," I replied.
          "And I for truth, the two are one;
          We brethren are," he said.

          And so, as kinsmen met a night,
          We talked between the rooms,
          Until the moss had reached our lips,
          And covered up our names.

          The Venusian splendor of ylang ylang and violet stirred by hyssop, frankincense, and grave loam.
        • THE JERSEY DEVIL -- It was about three feet and half high, with a head like a collie dog and a face like a horse. It had a long neck, wings about two feet long, and its back legs were like those of a crane, and it had horse's hooves. It walked on its back legs and held up two short front legs with paws on them. It didn't use the front legs at all while we were watching. My wife and I were scared, I tell you, but I managed to open the window and say, 'Shoo', and it turned around barked at me, and flew away. The scent of the wild, hauntingly beautiful Pine Barrens of New Jersey! Pitch pine with blackberry leaf, cranberry, cedar wood and tomato leaf.
        • THE TAVERN OF HELL -- Sometimes I would venture from my sepulchre to the jazz of night Paris, where having gathered the colours, I would think them over in front of the fire. I could be seen walking through a funeral corridor of my house and descending down a black spiral of steep stairs; rushing underground to Montmartre, all impatience to see the fiery rubies of the Moulin Rouge cross. I wondered thereabouts, then bought a ticket to watch frenzied delirium of feathers, vulgar painted lips and eyelashes of black and blue.

          Naked feet, and thighs, and arms, and breasts were being flung on me from bloody-red foam of translucent clothes. The tuxedoed goatees and crooked noses in white vests and toppers would line the hall, with their hands posed on canes. Then I found myself in a pub, where the liqueurs were served on a coffin (not a table) by the nickering devil: "Drink it, you wretched!" Having drunk, I returned under the black sky split by the flaming vanes, which the radiant needles of my eyelashes cross-hatched. In front of my nose a stream of bowler hats and black veils was still pulsing, foamy with bluish green and warm orange of feathers worn by the night beauties: to me they were all one, as I had to narrow my eyes for insupportable radiance of electric lamps, whose hectic fires would be dancing beneath my nervous eyelids for many a night to come.
          White gardenia, ambergris bouquet, lavender fougere, orange blossom, melissa, tobacco flower, coriander, ebony wood, ylang ylang, absinthe and aged whiskey.

          LOVE POTIONS
        • LES BIJOUX --
          My well-beloved was stripped. Knowing my whim,
          She wore her tinkling gems, but naught besides:
          And showed such pride as, while her luck betides,
          A sultan's favored slave may show to him.

          When it lets off its lively, crackling sound,
          This blazing blend of metal crossed with stone
          Gives me an ecstasy I've only known
          Where league of sound and lustre can be found.

          She let herself be loved: then, drowsy-eyed,
          Smiled down from her high couch in languid ease.
          My love was deep and gentle as the seas
          And rose to her as to a cliff the tide.

          My own approval of each dreamy pose,
          Like a tamed tiger, cunningly she sighted:
          And candour, with lubricity united,
          Gave piquancy to every one she chose.

          Her limbs and hips, burnished with changing lustres
          Before my eyes, clairvoyant and serene,
          Swanned themselves, undulating in their sheen;
          Her breasts and belly, of my vine the clusters,

          Like evil angels rose, my fancy twitting,
          To kill the peace which over me she'd thrown,
          And to disturb her from the crystal throne
          Where, calm and solitary, she was sitting.

          So swerved her pelvis that, in one design,
          Antiope's white rump it seemed to graft
          To a boy's torso, merging fore and aft.
          The talc on her brown tan seemed half-divine.

          The lamp resigned its dying flame. Within,
          The hearth alone lit up the darkened air,
          And every time it sighed a crimson flare
          It drowned in blood that amber-coloured skin.

          Skin musk and honey, blood-red rose, orange blossom, white peach, red apple, frankincense and myrrh.

          ILLYRIA
        • CALIBAN --
          Be not afeard; the isle is full of noises,
          Sounds and sweet airs, that give delight and hurt not.
          Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments
          Will hum about mine ears, and sometime voices
          That, if I then had waked after long sleep,
          Will make me sleep again: and then, in dreaming,
          The clouds methought would open and show riches
          Ready to drop upon me that, when I waked,
          I cried to dream again.

          The scent of the salty seas, bittersweet wine, palm and tropical ferns.

          ARS DRACONIS
        • LADON -- The hundred-headed dragon that guards the garden of the Hesperides: dragon’s blood resin, golden apple, apple blossom, white musk and hyacinth.
        • TANIN'IVER -- Lilith’s monstrous dragon steed: dragon’s blood resin, patchouli, pomegranate, myrrh, mimosa, cassia, blood musk and smoke.

          WANDERLUST
        • MAG MELL -- The Plane of Joy, eternal reward for a lifetime of valor and glory. A place of eternal youth and beauty, strength and honor, music and revelry. The warmth of amber, the puissance of white ginger and the clarity of verbena, with fresh green grass, lush sage and cleansing droplets of summer rain.
        • MANHATTAN -- Sexuality, power, confidence. A meeting of modern, sleek elegance and rich, passionate history: sheer amber, black leather, white mint, lemon peel, white tea, grapefruit, kush, teakwood and orchid.
        • PONTARLIER -- The legendary birthplace of the Green Fairy. Swiss ferns, lilac, blackcurrant, Gallic rose and lavender with a dollop of sugar and absinthe.
        • PORT ROYAL -- The Sodom of the New World! -- touted as the richest and wickedest city in all creation! Port Royal was the center of 17th century Caribbean commerce, a notorious safe harbor for pirates, and the site of our third flagship store, which was, sadly, destroyed in the earthquake of 1692. Spiced rum and ship’s wood mixed with the body-warmed trace of a prostitute’s perfume and a hint of salty sea air on the dry-down.
        • URUK -- A city of mystery, wonder and majesty, said to have been built by order of Gilgamesh. Thick bitter almond and heady night-blooming jasmine with saffron, cinnamon leaf, red patchouli, river lilies, bergamot, fig leaf and the sacred incense of Inanna.

        LAND HO, MATEYS! The Phantom Islands are in our sights!

          WANDERLUST: PHANTOM ISLANDS
        • COCKAIGNE -- “The weather is always mild, the wine flows freely, sex is readily available, and all people enjoy eternal youth.” The Land of Plenty, also called Luilekkerland – the Lazy, Luscious Land: milk and honey, sweet cakes and wine.
        • THE ISLES OF DEMONS -- Twin islands near Newfoundland, now lost, that were believed to be gateways to Hell. The scent is of wet, dark greenery, carnivorous flowers, volcanic gas, and the hot black musk of the demons and wild beasts that populated the islands.
        • JEZIRAT Al TENNYN -- The Dragon’s Isle: smoke and fire, earth and wind. The rage of the elements blasting over a primordial paradise.
        • KUMARI KANDAM -- The hollow scent of a vast antediluvian civilization, now frozen and buried, smothered by a thick sheet of ice and trapped deep beneath the ocean. Thick incense, clay, stone, and hothouse blooms with a spike of frost, a hint of decay, and heavy, dolorous aquatic notes.
        • LYONESSE --
          Then rose the King and moved his host by night
          And ever pushed Sir Mordred, league by league,
          Back to the sunset bound of Lyonesse --
          A land of old upheaven from the abyss
          By fire, to sink into the abyss again;
          Where fragments of forgotten peoples dwelt,
          And the long mountains ended in a coast
          Of ever-shifting sand, and far away
          The phantom circle of a moaning sea.

          Golden vanilla and gilded musk, stargazer lily, white sandalwood, grey amber, elemi, orris root, ambergris and sea moss.

        At long last, there are two new additions to our aromatherapy line: Panacea.

          PANACEA: THE ELIXIRS
        • ELIXIR VIII: BITCH -- Snappy-quick PMS relief.
        • ELIXIR IX: TKO -- ”Many things -- such as loving, going to sleep, or behaving unaffectedly -- are done worst when we try hardest to do them.” Sleep, sleep, and more sleep.

        And the lastest edition to the Salon...

          THE SALON
        • CLOISTER GRAVEYARD IN THE SNOW -- Three white musks, ozone, frankincense, mint.
        • DEATH OF THE GRAVE DIGGER -- Snow, soil, opoponax and myrrh.
        • THE FOX-WOMAN KUZUNOHA LEAVING HER CHILD -- White tea, cherry blossom, wisteria, star jasmine, and teak.
        • THE PENITENT MAGDALEN -- Immortelle, lily of the valley, gaiac, amber, honey, white sandalwood, almond flower, blonde musk, and hyssop.
        • SILENCE -- White sandalwood, iris, blue musk, lotus root, moonflower, plum blossom, green tea, white mint and white peach.
        • THREE BRIDES -- Moroccan rose, king mandarin, red sandalwood, Egyptian amber, orchid, carnation, benzoin, tonka, calla lily, vanilla flower.

        We have also added imp packs to several previously unimpable sections of the catalogue. Full imp sets of the Chakras, the Salon, the Sephiroth and Qliphoth, the Panaceas, and the Tarot Blends. Imps in these categories can only be purchased in a set, and the prices are scaled from section to section. Please refer to the specifc catalogue page or the Imp’s Ears page for more information.

        At this time, imp's ears are not available for Carnaval Diabolique or any other Limited Edition scent.

        Later this month, you can expect a few wonderful additions to the Trading Post in addition to a restocking of the perfume lockets. Our beloved Tedwin has been hard at work acquiring some stupefyingly cool products that we KNOW will thrill you!

        Every rose has its thorn, as they say, and along with this update comes the new pricing scale on the oils. To paraphrase an announcement of mine that was cross-posted to the independent BPAL forum and our LiveJournal announcement community, BPAL Ex Cathedra

        We fought it for as long as we could, but in the face of skyrocketing oil costs (which in turn has raised the prices on all our overseas shipment costs), increased packaging and bottle costs, the rising cost of utilities and rent, and increases in virtually every aspect of the supply chain, from insurance to packing and manufacturing materials. we're finally left with no choice but to bump the price of the oils slightly. We have not raised prices in many years, and if it were at all possible, we would never do so.

        We have done our best to make this as painless as possible. To that end, the following changes to oil prices are in effect as of the inception of Carnaval Diabolique on August 3rd, 2006:

        General Catalogue 5ml: $15.00
        General Catalogue 10ml: $24.50
        The Salon 5ml: $25.50
        Tarot Oils 10ml: $24.00
        Sephiroth / Qliphoth 10ml: $24.00
        The Chakras 5ml: $27.50
        Panaceas 5ml: $25.50
        Carnaval Diabolique 5ml: $20.00
        Single Imp's Ear: $3.50
        6 pack of Imp's Ears: $19.50

        The price for limited edition oils may vary, but will average $17.50 - $20.00 per 5ml, depending on the cost to manufacture.

        I hope that you all will understand our position. This was not an easy thing to have to do.

        One last wee little thorn: when the next Lunacy comes down, so shall the 10ml's. In an effort to streamline and speed up the bottling and packing processes the 10ml's for all GC scents are being pulled. The oils that are only offered in the 10ml size will still be in the 10ml bottles (Tarot Oils & Sephiroth), but 10ml will no longer be an option for any other scents.

        RIP, little 10ml's.

        In closing, some web site news and a smidgen of what's to come:

        We are still formatting all the entries for the Coterie. In the meantime, please feel free to contribute your creations! The links page is still being updated. Our friends, customers, and co-conspirators are a frighteningly talented bunch, and we love to spread the love. If you have a link you’d like us to share, shoot us an email!

        As we head into August, we approach the revisiting of a venerable Black Phoenix tradition: the Halloween LE extravaganza. Keep an eye out for it later this month.

        I know that no one needs reminding, but I have to say it from time to time: all copy contained within this site is © Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab with the exception of public domain works. There are trademarks tucked away all over this labyrinth, and the bulk of the artwork at Black Phoenix Trading Post, the BPAL logo, and ALL of the Carnaval Diabolique artwork is © Jennifer Williamson & Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab. Please be respectful, and treat our work the same way you would want your creative work to be treated. Golden rule, and all that.

        Besides, our lawyer wields a mean bullwhip.

        Eat your veggies, call your mom, and please recycle.

        ' And that, friends and loved ones, is all the news I've got!



        From the Hungry Ghost Moon update:

        While the pains of moving are coming to a close, and we are well on our way to catching up on everything, things are still in a bit of a jumble. Thank you again to everyone that has been there for us during this extremely difficult and challenging time. Your kindness and support has meant so much to us!

        This update is a very small one. Harvest Moon 2006 is live at both BPAL and the Trading Post, and as always, we have the lovely and psychotically talented Jennifer Williamson to thank for the gorgeous artwork on the tee!

        We should be near to closing in on the 10-day turnaround again within July, and once we’re satisfied that our ship-time is back within reason, we can start to grow again. We’re gearing up for three massive overhauls on the BPAL site (which will include updates to our links, Coterie, the FAQ, and other long-neglected sections of the shop), as well as a scattering of GC oils, and the long-awaited arrival of Carnaval Diabolique.

        Meanwhile, things are also stirring at the Trading Post. The scent lockets are being restocked soon, and there’s a heap of new items on the horizon.

        After a rocky springtime, we’re looking forward to an autumn of renewal and rebirth, and an ass-kicking winter!

        From the Lotus Moon update 2006:

        We are still in the process of moving to our new location. A BILLION thanks to everyone for their patience during this very difficult time. We should be up and running at full strength during the week of June 12th, and will be back within our week - tenday turnaround within a month.

        Within, within.

        I was hoping to have the Coterie and new links sections completed by this update, but like so many other projects lately, they have to go on the backburner until we get ourselves situated in the new warehouse. Because of all the madness lately, the Lotus Moon update is a small one. Chaos Theory III is live, along with Et Lux Fuit, in the LE section. They are both available until August 15th. Hungry Ghost Moon is also rearing its spectral head, and, as always, the Lunacy will last one day.

        Jennifer and Ted's ultra-sexy, mega-scary Hungry Ghost tee is live at the Trading Post. Buy one, or the ghosts of your ancestors will get really, really cranky.

        Shadow is discontinued. Apologies for the short notice, but a sudden component issue has left us in the lurch. All pending orders containing Shadow will be filled.

        That's all the news for now. Thank you again for your patience and your support during all of the unpleasantness!

        From the Dragon Moon update:

        Good evening, all. What a nutty spring this has been! We’re still in the process of moving the Lab, so please be patient while we settle in to the temporary dungeon. Order processing time will fall back just a wee bit, but we’re resilient, and things will be right as rain very quickly.

        And now, on with the update information:

          LIMITED EDITION
        • LITHA- Midsummer, Ukon Juhla, Alban Heruin, the Light of the Shore. This is the summer solstice, the longest day of the year, marking the sun’s highest path across the sky. The Sun God and the Lord of the Forest are at the apex of their strength, and the Holy Day itself is a celebration of light’s triumph over darkness. The world around us is teeming with light and life, and on this day fertility rituals for both the land and its people are observed. Honey mead with honeysuckle, oak wood, ivy leaf, wild thyme, carnation, daisy, vervain, gum arabic, frankincense, yauhtli, and liquid copal.
        Litha will be available until June 1, 2006.

        As promised, two new scents have been added to Ars Draconis:

          ARS DRACONIS
        • DRAGON’S CLAW - Smooth, polished and lethally sharp: dragon’s blood resin and three sandalwoods.
        • DRAGON’S REVERIE - Opium-laced dreams of flame, plunder, power and fury: dragon’s blood resin, poppy, amber and ylang ylang.
        This month, a new GC category is being introduced: the Salon. The scents found there represent olfactory impressions of pieces of visual art. Thus, no descriptive passage is being given for the scents other than an overview of the components. The artwork speaks for itself. Oils from the Salon are $23.00 per 5ml due to the cost of the ingredients, and they are not available in 10ml size. There are no imp’s ears for any of the salon scents, again due to the cost of the ingredients.

          THE SALON
        • BAT-WOMAN - Ratkirani, calla lily, moonflower, honeysuckle, night-blooming jasmine, French lavender, verbena, grey amber and nighttime air.
        • AND THERE WAS A GREAT CRY IN EGYPT - Dark myrrh, white sandalwood, amber, hyssop, frankincense, honey, cypress, red musk, cardamom and saffron.
        • CARCERI d'INVENZIONE - Redwood, red sandalwood, black pepper, blonde tobacco and frankincense.
        • THE DEATH OF SARDANAPAL - Red wine, gurjum balsam, dark myrrh, honey, cassia, lemongrass, palmarosa, elemi, cognac and olibanum.
        • THE ISLE OF THE DEAD - Cypress, labdanum, stargazer lily, juniper, yew, black rose, white sandalwood, benzoin and aquatic notes.
        • LUCRETIA - Iris, black amber, sage, Kashmir wood, vanilla musk, mandarin and violet.
        • ORPHEUS - Pale musk, green mandarin, neroli, benzoin, citrus peel, blue lavender, narcissus, stephanotis, crushed green stems, willow branch and cedar.
        • RESURRECTION OF THE FLESH - Frankincense, hyssop, heliochrysum, ylang ylang, copal, angelica, and rose geranium.
        • SATAN AND DEATH WITH SIN INTERVENING - Opoponax, benzoin, orange blossom, mahogany, karakarounde, white tea and vetiver.
        • TWO MONSTERS - Oakmoss, vetiver, black musk, champaca flower, leather, patchouli, ginger, Japanese pittosporum, ambergris and white pepper.
        Within the next few updates, two dragons will be joining Ars Draconis in addition to Dragon’s Lair and Dragon’s Splendor:

        Ladon
        Tann’iver

        And also within the next few updates, we will be jaunting off to the following locales:

        Mag Mell
        Manhattan
        Pontarlier
        Port Royal
        Uruk

        In addition, a new sub-category will be added to Wanderlust: Phantom Islands.

        The Salon will soon exhibit:
        The Ancient of Days
        The Apparition
        The Beautiful Rosine
        Cadmus & Harmonia
        Death at the Ball
        Hesiod and the Muse
        The Triumph of Death
        She Shall Be Called Woman
        Witches Dancing on a Sabbath

        The General Catalogue will be bombarded soon
        Calico Jack
        Catastrophe
        Fear Liath Mor
        Freyr
        Groupie
        The Jersey Devil
        Lykanthropos
        Nepthys
        Storm Pearl
        Toxin

        This summer, Carnaval Diabolique will slither through town. Keep an eye out for its blood-spattered banners and boneyard pinwheels in June. Chaos Theory: Strange Attractors is imminent, and we are compiling data for a few category additions to the GC.

        From the April 9, 2006 update:

        Hi-dee-ho, all! Spring is in the air, and we’re feeling bouncy.

        In observance of the holiday season, and out of respect for the many traditions and faiths found amongst our clients, Dragon Moon, the Carnaval Noir pit stop, Neptune and Pluto will be available on the site until April 20th. The number of Carnaval Noir oils for purchase at Will Call and C12 will, unfortunately, have to be limited to 20, and we can only sell one bottle per scent per customer. Online orders are under no bottle limit.

        Black Phoenix Trading Post’s update will run from April 11th til April 20th.

        BPAL, BPTP, and TAL will be representin’ at Convergence 12.

        Yes, I know. Get on with the details on the damn update, Beth!

        Thanks to a new, reasonably priced crop of pink grapefruit oil, the following oils are being brought back into the GenCat:

          THE GRAPEFRUIT RESURRECTION
        • BAOBHAN SITH -- The ghostly White Women of the Scottish highlands. They seduce unwary travelers by night with their unearthly beauty and mesmerizing dancing. They engage their victims in a wild, hypnotic dance, and once they reach exhaustion, exsanguinate their partners with their vampiric kiss. Grapefruit, white tea, apple blossom and ginger.
        • CHESHIRE CAT -- Grapefruit, red currant, dark musk, Roman chamomile, delphinium, and lavender.
        • PHOBOS -- Twin to Deimos and child of War, Phobos is the embodiment of terror and mortal fear. Chilling white musk, lemon verbena, white grapefruit and lemongrass.
        • SHATTERED -- A scent as sharp as glass shards, and as brittle as a broken heart. The formula came to me - quite literally - in a dream, and is named after, and created in memory of, the last poem that I ever wrote almost ten years ago to the day. A blend of white champagne notes, grapefruit, lotus, slivered mint and crystalline aquatic blooms.

        This summer, a new Carnaval is going to be making the rounds. In celebration, we're revisiting last summer's Carnaval Noir until April 20th:

          CARNAVAL NOIR
        • BEARDED LADY -- A seductive and flowing exaltation of femininity: Turkish rose, stargazer lily, violet, honeysuckle, amber, star jasmine and vanilla.
        • BED OF NAILS -- Sharp, shining, metallic: rubbed iron with a dry wooden base.
        • FIRE EATER -- A glowing red and flickering scent: warm, lurid, seductive.
        • FREAK SHOW -- A strange, disconcerting embrace to some, alarming, and to some, intimately familiar: fig, pomegranate and cocoa bean with lemon, bergamot, vanilla, mellow honey musk, calamus and tonka.
        • GEEK -- A snarling, feral scent, ever-so-slightly slightly deranged: hot leather, opoponax, cedar, pine, needle, mosses, dry grass, patchouli and cinnamon bark.
        • GYPSY QUEEN -- A heavy-lidded perfume, the quintessence of beauty and power shrouded in mystery, swathed in a deep, velvet-clad cloak of dark omens: Romany incense and candle smoke mingling with an alluring, body-warmed whiff of bergamot, neroli, Bulgar rose, carnation, and amber musk.
        • HOUSE OF MIRRORS -- Antique amber frames a series of distorted, eternally warping clear crystal and glass notes.
        • KUNSTKAMMER -- A sensory jumble, a true cacophony of odors: black pepper, benzoin, blood orange and olibanum.
        • MEDICINE SHOW -- A veritable miracle, I tell you! A scent that soothes the spirit and stimulates both the libido and the mind: tobacco, balsam, ginger, elemi and rosewood, with a touch of opium to fuddle your senses.
        • MIDWAY -- A bombardment of edible carnival indulgences. Funnel cake, caramel apple, cotton candy, salt water taffy and sugar tart.
        • SHILL -- Gloriously innocent and guileless: pure buttered popcorn!
        • SNAKE CHARMER -- Sensual, sibilant, sexual and hypnotic: Arabian musk and exotic spices slinking through Egyptian amber, enticing vanilla, and a serpentine blend of black plum, labdanum, ambrette, benzoin and black coconut.
        • TORTURE KING -- The King of Pain, the Famed Fakir. Frankincense and sweet clove, mandarin and bourbon, lemon peel and leather, grasses and smoke, lime and vetiver, ambergris and deep musk.

        The following LE scents are live until April 20th:

          LIMITED EDITION
        • DRAGON MOON -- In Imperial China, the Dragon was the symbol of the Emperor’s power, and to this day, the concept and the image of the Dragon is considered sacrosanct. The Dragon is a symbol of power, the Lord of weather and water. The Dragon Moon celebrates the glory and vigor of Springtime: dragon’s blood resin, tea leaf, bamboo reed, sandalwood and cherry blossom.
        • NEPTUNE -- Abstract Ideas - Dreams - Scandal - Glamour - Idealism - Hallucinations - Imagination - Mediumistic Power - Poetry - Receptivity - Spirituality - Visionaries - Weirdness - Seduction - Prophecy - Fantasy – Perception
        • PLUTO -- Covert Operations - Enigmas - Defiance - Psychoanalysis - Terror - Anonymity - Immortality - Sadism - Transformation - The Unknown - Discovery of Error - Detection of Injustice

        Our love of Swinburne gave birth to Hymn to Proserpine, new to Bewitching Brews. Apologies for bulking up the page with the whole poem, but hey -- its one of our favorites. And since we're so damned happy that the Cheshire cat is back, we've added a whole bushel of concoctions to the Mad Tea Party!

          BEWITCHING BREWS
        • HYMN TO PROSERPINE -- Thou hast conquered, O pale Galilean; the world has grown grey from thy breath; We have drunken of things Lethean, and fed on the fullness of death. The darkening amber of faith’s sunset, deepened by the dark fruits of Proserpine.

          MAD TEA PARTY
        • DRINK ME -- However, this bottle was not marked 'poison,' so Alice ventured to taste it, and finding it very nice, (it had, in fact, a sort of mixed flavour of cherry-tart, custard, pine-apple, roast turkey, toffee, and hot buttered toast,) she very soon finished it off.

          BPAL’s Drink Me is not for drinking. Please use common sense, and remember: perfume oils are for external use only.
        • EAT ME -- Three white cakes, vanilla, and red and black currants.

          BPAL’s Eat Me is not for eating. Please use common sense, and remember: perfume oils are for external use only.
        • KING OF HEARTS -- Rosewood and black cherry with white musk, red rose, red musk and a spark of lavender.
        • MOUSE'S LONG AND SAD TALE -- Vanilla, two ambers, sweet pea and white sandalwood.
        • THE POOL OF TEARS -- A sea of salty tears drowning out Alice's light floral perfume.
        • TWEEDLEDEE -- Ridiculous! Kumquat, white pepper, white tea and orange blossom.
        • TWEEDLEDUM -- Absurd! Green mango, fig, patchouli and green tea.

        And that, beloved, is all the news that's fit to print. Wish us luck with the move to the new warehouse!

        From the 14 Mar 2006, Mercury-Retrograde-Choke-A-Bitch update:

        If I see the phrase "runtime error" one more time, I'm going to have to choke a bitch, Wayne Brady style.

        Peony Moon, Saturn and Uranus will stay live until Thursday, March 16, just before midnight. This is an extended Lunacy, due to the Mercurial Fandango that we've gone through in the past few days.

        Also in the LE’s, MONSTER BAIT! Gen-U-Ine Monster Bait will be available to the public until May Day. Let’s get those monsters back where they belong! No more lonely nights!

        I promised a bump up on the General Catalogue, and ladies and gents here it is:

          BEWITCHING BREWS
        • OZYMANDIAS -- Desolation. The remnants of an empire, shivering with forgotten glories, a monument to megalomania, sundered power, and colossal loss. Dry desert air, dry and hot, passing over crumbling stone megaliths and plundered golden monuments, bearing a hint of the incense of lost Gods on its winds.

          FUNEREAL OILS
        • SHEOL -- The Hebrew Underworld, the Abode of the Dead, the Pit. It is as forbidding as the grave itself: a joyless and dolorous cave deep with the bowels of Earth that every man, saint or sinner, must travel to upon death, where his soul finds rest in the silence and dust.

          For the living know that they will die, but the dead don’t know anything, neither do they have any more a reward; for the memory of them is forgotten. Also their love, their hatred, and their envy has perished long ago; neither have they any more a portion forever in anything that is done under the sun. Go your way—eat your bread with joy, and drink your wine with a merry heart; for God has already accepted your works. Let your garments be always white, and don’t let your head lack oil. Live joyfully with the wife whom you love all the days of your life of vanity, which he has given you under the sun, all your days of vanity: for that is your portion in life, and in your labor in which you labor under the sun. Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with your might; for there is no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom, in Sheol, where you are going.
          Ecclesiastes 9:5 - 10

          The final burst of the soul’s light and joy before passing into the depths of the earth, and into the cords of Sheol; Sheol, who is never satisfied, and who makes wide her soul to all. Vibrant gladiola, graceful stargazer lily, triumphant iris and bright heliotrope flare, and is finally made somber by heavy copal, a drop of labdanum, and tonka.

          SIN & SALVATION
        • OBLIVION -- Salvation found in darkness beyond darkness, the blessed sleep of nothingness. Dark musk, wood spice, labdanum, patchouli, dark African woods, and saffron.

          MAD TEA PARTY
        • FRUMIOUS BANDERSNATCH -- "Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
          The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
          Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
          The frumious Bandersnatch!"

          Bandersnatch musk, redolent of spicy carnations, wild plums and chrysanthemum.
        • THE MOCK TURTLE'S LESSONS -- 'I couldn't afford to learn it.' said the Mock Turtle with a sigh. 'I only took the regular course.'

          'What was that?' inquired Alice.

          'Reeling and Writhing, of course, to begin with,' the Mock Turtle replied; 'and then the different branches of Arithmetic-- Ambition, Distraction, Uglification, and Derision.'

          RAPPACCINI'S GARDEN
        • DEATH CAP -- A lethal poison bundled up in a dainty, innocent little package that was oft times found in ancient witches’ flying ointments and astral projection balms. A warm, soft, ruddy scent, earthy and mild.
        • DESTROYING ANGEL -- One of the deadliest mushrooms to ever pop through Gaia’s soil. Papery white notes evoke the grace of this fungi, grounded by thin, crisp soil.
        • MANDRAKE -- Also called Djinn’s Eggs and the Weed of Ill Omen. Distinctive bifurcations shape this magickal plant into the form of human men and women. It is believed that mandrake grows where the semen of a hanged man has fallen onto the earth, and that when it is plucked from the earth, the plant itself shrieks in agony:

          Alack, alack, is it not like that I,
          So early waking, what with loathsome smells,
          And shrieks like mandrakes' torn out of the earth
          That living mortals, hearing them, run mad.

          A plant of true arcane power, mandrake has been used in a multitude of ways by witches, magicians and thaumaturgists for eons to many, many vastly different ends. Whole pieces are carried for protection, or are used in poppet magick. Ground herb can be utilized in spells for money, lust or defense.

          The lore of the mandrake does not limit it to magickal use. The root was chewed as a simple anasthesia, and it has been widely employed as a sleep drug:
          CLEOPATRA: Ha, ha!
          Give me to drink mandragora.

          CHARMIAN: Why, madam?

          CLEOPATRA: That I might sleep out this great gap of time
          My Antony is away.
        • OPIUM POPPY -- Opium teaches only one thing, which is that aside from physical suffering, there is nothing real. A bitter, soft, fragile flower.
        • STRANGLER FIG -- A glorious parasite! Once the seeds of the Strangler Fig find root in the bark of a tree, snakelike roots erupt and reach graspingly at the sky. The Strangler Fig then sprouts numerous epiphytic vines that strangles and surrounds its unwilling host, and finally snuffs the life from it. Rooty, woody, with deep green tones.
        • SUNDEW -- A carnivorous enchantress: diverse, lovely and graceful, emitting a sticky, glowing golden, sweet and terminally inviting scent. Its dew is believed to grant eternal beauty and longevity, and restore vitality and vigor to the magician.

          EXCOLO
        • OBATALA -- The King of the White Cloth, King of the Orishas, the First Among Equals. He is the King of Power, and his weapon is wisdom. He is the essence of honored maturity, wisdom through age and experience, purity of intention, virtue, humility, tolerance, judicious use of power, the knowledge of what is truly right and wrong, the moral code, and the obligation to do what is right. Obatala is the Creator God, who first fashioned mankind from clay; thus, he is also the first sculptor and potter. The human head itself is Obatala’s creation, and it is through it that he grants us the ability to discern genuine morality as opposed to oppressive, mistaken and arrogant self-righteousness. His is not the falsehood of societal boundaries, His Truth is the understanding of one’s own character and the obligations that we all have to our world, our Gods, and one another. He is the Benevolent Judge, calm and lucid, and he governs rational deliberation. His color is white, as His spirit is free from any soil or stain, and His energy radiates sanctified purity, great wisdom, happiness and internal peace. He is associated with cloth, as that was one of His gifts to mankind. The aspects of Obatala are symbolized by the chameleon, boa constrictor, elephant, gorilla, and snail. Obatala is the Lord of Laughter, for it is through wisdom that one may see the joy in life, and through laughter we are able to see the follies of mankind not with cynicism and derision, but with humor, compassion and understanding. Obatala’s Laughter helps soothe the pain of life’s rigors, and takes the sting out of the harshest of life’s lessons. Obatala’s ofrenda is soft, white and pure: milk, coconut meat, shea butter and cool, refreshing water.
        • OCHOSI -- The Archer, Lord of the Bow and Arrow. To know Ochosi is to know the movement of the arrow into prey and the whistle of the arrow in flight. He is the transference of energy over a distance, and His is the speed of light, sound and thought, though he is not merely though, he is the stroke of instant understanding or realization. Ochosi is the Hunter-Wizard, skilled in the use of magickal potions and poisons, silent, dangerous and possessed of a cool, calm, sharp intelligence. He is the calculated extension of the mind, the Tracker, the Ranger, and he governs the changing of the seasons, stealth, guerilla warfare, and He alone acts as a buffer and shield between reason and insanity. He is the protector of children, the weak, the helpless, and the aged. His ofrenda is the soft shea he shares with Obatala, forest herbs, and sprucewood arrow shafts.
        • ODIN -- Odin is highest and eldest of the Æsir: he rules all things, and mighty as are the other gods, they all serve him as children obey a father. The All-Father, Lord of Wisdom and War. Odin’s name itself translates to “fury”, “excitation” and “poetry”, and that is the core of His essence. He is the God of Victory, and holds sway over hunting, verse, war-lust and berserkers, magic, illumination, foresight, death, plots and machinations, and He dispenses the Mead of Inspiration to poets from his sacred vessel, Óð-rœri. He gifted mankind with runes, both sacred and mundane, and the ability to use them for both communication and magical work. He grants glory and madness, inspiration and courage, power and wisdom. He commands the einheriar of his Hall, Valhalla, and the Valkyries that claim the souls of valiant warriors. Lord Odin’s favored weapon is the spear Gugnir, which he uses to claim those chosen to die in battle. He is accompanied by his ravens, Hugin and Munin [thought and memory], and his wolves, Geri and Freki [the Greedy], and rides an eight-legged horse, Sleipner, that is, in itself, symbolic of death. His scent is dry elm bark, amaranth, warrior’s musk, and Odin’s Nine Herbs of Power.
        • OGUN -- Ogun is the Master of Iron, Lord of the Knife, the Toolmaker, the Supreme Hunter, the God of War. He is primal instinct, energy and motion, strife and resolution, effort and perspiration, locomotion, force, contraction and expansion. He is the lord of all mines and mineral wealth, and his energy is expressed in the transformation of sandstone into marble and carbon into diamonds. His control over transformation transcends this into the metaphorical: Ogun helps to shape the spirit, and hone it into something finer, and He compels us to look deep inside ourselves, searching for our true potential. He is physical might, ruler of the heart, giver of courage and sustainer of war, and is the bond that men fashion with one another during battle. He is gunpowder. Ogun is responsible for teaching mankind to fashion tools and weapons from iron, and his primary implements are the anvil, hammer, machete, rake, hoe, shovel, pick and pry. His favored animal is the dog, who shares his loyalty and unflagging strength. Ogun’s ofrenda is heavy and dark cigar tobacco, gin and juniper, melon, chili pepper and a touch of honey.
        • OLOKUN -- The Lord of All Waters, Master of Wealth, Keeper of the Secrets in the Depths of the Ocean, Lord of the Lightless Deep, God of the Unknown. This secretive and enigmatic Orisha is symbolized by the Seven Seas, and the vast riches and unplumbed mysteries of the ocean are His. Though His reach extends over three-quarters of earth’s surface, He concedes the right to rule to Obatala out of respect for the age, wisdom and discretion of the venerable King of the White Cloth. Olokun is the depth of the ocean at which the sun’s light fails to penetrate. He is perpetual darkness, incomprehensible pressure, and his abode is the birthplace of mythical monsters. The ocean floor is also a Land of the Dead: in its darkness, all will fall to rest, and in this darkness is the Home of the Spirits, souls that, in the cold and dark, rest awaiting reincarnation. Olokun represents all things that remain unknown to man, and all questions may be answered in the halls of His Kingdom. In this, he holds sway over the power of divination. Though decaying matter settles in His home, the Kingdom itself does not decay or erode. He is represented by the mudfish and his favor is shown through red coral and shark spines. His ofrenda is the scent of the lightless deep: the glorious, unknowable gloom of the ocean floor.
        • OSUN -- The Goddess of the Hand Mirror, Maiden of Love. Osun is the Goddess of beauty, love, enchantment, elegance, and pleasure. Her charm and incomparable lovliness is such that it can be felt, sensed, and not merely seen. Osun holds the secrets of our deepest and most complex feelings. She is intuition, pure and idealized love, the tingling sensation of pleasurable anticipation, the sensual movement of seduction and sexuality, and quick breath before climax. Osun is the pleasure of the senses, refinement, and the patroness of artistic endeavors that bring delight to the world. She compels us to express our deepest, truest feelings, and is the mother of our tears of happiness, tears of bitter grief, and the swelling of our hearts with love, hate, lust and fierce joy. She is the harlot and the virgin, who bestows unbridled carnal pleasure and also shows the path to purity of the spirit and virtuous intentions. She represents tenacity, the will to live and the drive to acquire, and the desire for achievement and fine possessions. She is the sublimely sweet and the revolting sour that we taste in life. She is charm used to every conceivable end, and is credited with bringing currency and the concept of money into the world, and is therefore the Patroness of Prostitutes and Courtesans. She is a great Witch, and has a multitude of brews, charms, and potions and always has a trick up her billowing, beautiful yellow sleeves. She is the youngest of the Orishas, and is a symbol of the most recent of nature’s evolutions: civilization. She teaches us to take care of ourselves, to pamper ourselves, and to find and express the beauty in ourselves, in others, and in our world. She is the sweet water of the stream, sustaining life. She is the Goddess of fine art, debate, sanitation, grooming, oratory arts, and temples and theatres. She is the act of landing the settlement that becomes a nation. She shows us that time must be made for leisure, amusement and contemplation, for a life of unending toil is an affront to her gifts, and diminishes the quality of life itself, and cripples our ability to conceive new, innovative ideas and create compelling works of art. All work and no play is not an option. It is Osun that provides us with the security, safety, comfort and prosperity that we require in order to make time for leisurely pursuits. Osun is the mirror that mankind holds up to itself, and she is the principle upon which all art is born. Osun’s symbols are hand mirrors, brass fans, brass needles, brass bells, sunflowers, and her creatures are the cricket and the peacock. Her ofrenda is thick with honey and herbs of love, passion and desire.
        • OYA -- Lady of the Wind, Goddess of the Nine Skirts, the Lady of War, the Bearded Amazon, the Thundermaiden. Beautiful, tempestuous, elegant and graceful, She is the fury of the hurricane, the breath in our lungs, the air that cools us, the breeze that chills us, the winds that blow seeds that fertilize the land, the winds that pass disease throughout villages and townships, the moan of the wind within the cemetery, and the fury of the tempest that tears the landscape asunder. Oya is the sweeping wind of change and upheaval, She is revolution and progress, and She forces the destruction of old ideals while sweeping away our useless baggage; the broom is a symbol of Her force for change. As the Mistress that commands hurricanes, cyclones, and tornados, she tears down that which is old and decaying, compelling Her children to begin building anew. In Her hands She holds a mask, as Her presence is most often felt and not seen, and none have seen Oya’s true face. She is the moment at which the seasons change, the transition from life to death, and as the Lady of the Cemetery, it is to Her that we commit our final breath. Her closest friend is Iku, the Orisha of Death, and it is their responsibility to see to it that the natural order remains undisturbed. Once a man’s final breath is expelled, Oya takes it to Iku, who brings the spirit to the cemetery gates and then to its next passage. One of her symbols is the bed, as nightly we imitate death in sleep. Because of her close relationship with Death, the Goddess is very close to the Egungun, the spirits of our ancestors. Oya is the Goddess of the Marketplace in which fortunes and goods spin in a never-ending whirlwind of exchange, change, and flux. She is the wind that precedes the thunderstorm, and it is in this that She is seen as Shango’s companion and partner in battle, and without Oya, there is little that Shango can accomplish. She fans the fires of Shango’s blazes, and is the forked lightning that touches the treetops. Proud and willful, Oya is also a Goddess of War. Her wrath is so terrible and so devastating that none may behold her rage and survive. Oya has nine children and nine colors, and her symbols are weathervanes, windmills, kites, balloons, propeller planes, wind instruments, pinwheels, two naked swords, and buffalo horns. Oya’s ofrenda is a Nigerian potion of love and war, sweetened by darkest plum. Oya winiwini!
        • SHANGO -- The Wrath of God, the Most Beautiful Lord of Lightning, the Owner of All Palaces. He is the illumination of a lightning strike in the night sky, and is the retributive strike of the rightful king. Shango punishes those who are not living up to their responsibilities. He gives insight to the truth in all circumstances, and is the essence of the thrill and excitement in life that makes every day worth living. To love Shango is to live life to the fullest, no matter what pains the world inflicts upon you. He is Wrath, and his lightning bolts and gouts of fire remind all of his strength and power. It is said that Lord Shango only speaks to his children once; when the God illuminates an answer for you, you had best understand with no further questions. Shango is trial by fire, the honing and refinement of the spirit, the ability to distinguish between truth and lies. He is a dual-faced God: King and Exile, miser and philanthropist, just and ruthless, honest and devious. Shango is the Lord of Persuasion, and his glib tongue can intimidate, coerce, sway and seduce. He is quick wit, articulate words, and the ability to think on one’s feet. He is the King that can incite and enflame the masses with the power of his speech. His words are the sensual murmurs of the lothario, the slick wheedle of the grifter, the convincing argument of the barrister, the dangerous charm of the pimp, the inspiration of the warrior general, and the invigorating exhortations of the monarch. The Roar of Shango is a Universal Truth. Shango governs all professions that cater to the needs and weaknesses of the people. He is the absolute and perfect Male creature, and the rain that falls to earth is His blessed, sublime semen, giving life to the world. His abundant seed washes the land and replenishes Earth’s seas, rivers and oceans. He sneers at cowardice, and demands that all of his children have daring spirits, strength of will, nerve and *balls*. Courage is of the utmost importance, as it empowers us to face adversity with dignity and enables us to act decisively and with resourcefulness. Live, don’t simply exist. Shango’s gifts make it possible for us to find the shortest distance between two points, wring out the best from every situation, recover from every seeming loss and every defeat, and defy all odds to reach our goals. He teaches us wily strategies, masterful tactics, and shows us the value of friendship and camaraderie. His is the comfortable, casual friendship found in just hanging out and having a good time with the guys. Shango is Challenge, the concept of finding the best parts of yourself through conflict and adversity. Shango’s weapon is the double-headed axe, and His animals are the black cat and the leopard. The Master of Lightning’s ofrenda contains red apples, banana, chili pepper, coconut, pineapple, pomegranate and sugar cane.
        • YEMAYA -- Lady of the Ocean, Queen of Mothers, Mother of the Children of the Fishes. She is the River of Life, the ocean is her womb, and she is the mother of many of the Orishas. Yemaya shares the oceans with her lover / brother / son / brother-self, Olokun, and She governs the uppermost part of the waters where the sun’s rays mingle with Her waters to promote life and growth. Yemaya is everlasting, She is motherhood, the universal drive for the survival of a species, the procreative urge, the instinct of a mother protecting her young, and She is the governess of all life on Earth. She is the Most Fruitful of Women, and both She and Olokun are the protectors and benefactors of those who wish to conceive. Yemoya, being the mother of Shango, also has jurisdiction over rain and snow. She has seven roads and seven manifestations, all corresponding to the Seven Seas. She is the blood that pumps through our veins, and the sound of our blood rushing through our bodies is Her lullaby. She is in constant motion, never resting, ever vigilant and though she may seem calm on the surface, there is always activity within Her waters. The Great Mother possesses breathtaking beauty, patience and a gentle hand, yet She is also fearsome, temperamental, moody and stern. She nurtures her children, but She is also a disciplinarian. She is symbolized by the fish, mermaid, seagull, wharf rat, ibis, vulture and duck, and She shares the beauty of the peacock feather with Oshun. Her ofrenda is a bounty of melons and grapes, strewn with the petals of the flowers of motherhood, draped with sea mosses.

          ILLUMINATION: THE QLIPHOTH
        • THAUMIEL -- Spiritual pride, arrogance, denial of the sacredness of every spirit, duality, the denial of the Great Work, the basest and most profane aspects of Nature.
        • GHAGIEL -- Uncontrolled energy, nihilism, narcissistic illusion.
        • SATHARIEL -- Ruthlessness, seclusion, matter without spirit, denial of the love of God.
        • GHA'AGSHEBLAH -- This is the sphere that encompasses those who stand by idly, or turn their faces, when confronted with wickedness and corruption.
        • GOLACHAB -- Tyranny, violence, destruction, injustice, revenge.
        • THAGIRION -- Pride, stress and disorder, strain, contention, conflict, futility.
        • A'ARAB ZARAQ -- Rampant lust, self-indulgence, covetousness, lost chastity.
        • SAMAEL -- Lies, falsehood, dishonesty, glib tongues, over-rationalization, skepticism, cynicism, denial of faith.
        • GAMALIEL -- Idleness and unconscious, uncontrolled, perverse sexual desire.
        • NAHEMOTH -- Avarice, inertia, materialism, animal consciousness, despair and cruelty.

        We have some hella nifty surprises in the April updates, so keep those eyes peeled.

        Thanks to everyone for their patience while the intraweb and my computer conspired to open a six-pack of whoop-ass on me. Thank you for your patience, for all the supportive, funny and thoughtful emails, and for sticking this out with us. We luvs u!


        What the hell went on during the February 13th update? I think I was abducted by aliens.

        From the Friday the 13th update:

        Happy Friday the 13th!

        What's new? Smut, smut, and more smut!

        Ok, maybe there are some things in Lupercalia that aren't quite so smutty. I'm just so damn enamoured of that word lately.

        Oh man, you should see the crude concepts I had lined up for this update initially. Something about Valentine’s Day really brings out the pig in me.

        You should see my research material. *insert raised eyebrow here*

        Anyway, ‘nuff babbling. Its update time!

          LIMITED EDITION: LUPERCALIA
        • KHAJURAHO -- The fabled Khajuraho temples of India are shrines of love in all its myriad forms. They are a celebration of love itself – transcendental, spiritual and erotic. This is a rejection of sorrow, spiritual ennui and despair. The sexual motifs that adorn the temples, and the temples themselves, are monuments to ecstasy and to passion, and through that, they are also monuments to spiritual fulfillment. It is believed that the realization of moksha by dedicating oneself to adhyatma and dharma can be attained only by first experiencing sexual satisfaction. In the midst of the drudgery and struggle that we sometimes endure during the course of our Earthly lives, it is vitally important that we remember the joy found in kama, and that in kama we can achieve transformation of the body and soul. This is a blissful, euphoric blend based on an ancient Indian love potion: honey, date palm, tuberose, davana blossom, amber, white sandalwood, vanilla bean, Damask rose, and champaca flower.
        • LUPERCI -- Piss off, Saint Valentine! Lupercalia is an ancient Roman celebration, held on February 15th, that kicked in the advent of Spring with a very, very festive purification, fertility and sexuality ritual. The ritual began near the cave of Lupercal on the Palatine, an area sacred to Faunus, as well as Ruminia, Romulus and Remus. During Lupercalia, Vestal Virgins first made offerings of sacred cakes to the fig tree under which the she-wolf suckled the Sacred Twins. A dog and two goats were then offered in sacrifice to Faunus. The blood of the sacrifice was smeared onto two naked patrician youths, who were assisted by the Virgins, and the blood was wiped clean with sacred wool dipped in milk. The youths donned the skins of the sacrificial goats, wielding whips made from the goat skins, and then led the priests and the Virgins around the pomarium, and around the base hills of Rome. This was a ceremony of great happiness and merriment, and was of particular interest to young women: being touched by the goat-whips young men that led the procession ensured their fertility in the coming year. It is believed that, after the initial rite, male participants would draw the name of an available maiden, with whom he spent the rest of the night. This scent is for the Luperci, the Chosen of Faunus, the Brothers of the Wolf: raw, down and dirty patchouli, Gurjam balsam, and essence of Sampson Root sweetened with the heightened sexuality of beeswax, virile juniper, oakmoss, ambrette seed over honey and East African musk.
        • NIGHT'S PAVILION -- Not the desperation, desolation and anguish of unrequited love, but the distant, chill and pitiless scent of the object of that doomed desire. White musk, osmanthus, Nile lily and frankincense.
        • PARLEMENT of FOULES -- For the Valentine’s Day purists. Medieval romance and courtly love. White rose and soft resins.
        • THE PERFUMED GARDEN -- The Perfumed Garden for the Soul’s Recreation. This scent is based on a venerable Tunisian perfume that was used to excite the senses, inspire sensuality and inflame passion. Myrrh and Moroccan jasmine with apple peel, Indian sandalwood, myrtle, quince, citron, and thyme poured over soft musk.
        • RED LANTERN -- A tribute to the opium den cum bawdyhouses of Shanghai in the 1930’s. Golden amber, blonde tobacco, Sudanese black coconut, rich caramel, black currant, white opium and delphinium laced with a sensual blend of Asian spice.
        • SMUT -- What a great freakin’ word. BPAL LOVES SMUT! Three swarthy, smutty musks sweetened with sugar and woozy with dark booze notes.


        From the Snow Moon update:

        Happy holidays, everyone! This is a tiny update, as we’re still in the middle of Yule shipping, and we’re bracing ourselves for the first updates of the New Year. Holiday Moon, Luna and Mercury are $15 each, are live for the usual Loony time, and can be found on the LE page.

        Holiday Moon tees and the first of the BPAL statues [and two corresponding scents: La Fée Verte and Hellion] can be found at Black Phoenix Trading Post. Teddy and his goblin posse at the ‘Post are on pins and needles awaiting the arrival of the first aroma lockets. Look for those in the upcoming month.



        From the Beaver Moon update:

        You know, I was horribly tempted to write out a big ol’ memoir here, covering the last three years of BPAL’ness, but I feel like it’ll end up sounding like some corny award acceptance speech, and that isn’t my style.

        Ok, fine. A small speech. I can’t help myself.

        Thank you. Thank you to our customers, who have shown me more joy in these three years than anything I could have imagined and who have, without a doubt, been the impetus in everything I’ve been able to create, have been my best friends and most fiendish critics, and have given me the ability to see my dreams [and nightmares!] to fruition. Thank you to the mods on the BPAL Madness forum, who are my sisters, my sanity, and who are closer to me than blood. Thank you to the guys at the Lab, who work their asses off every damn day. Thank you to Diana and Kate, the forum administrators, for their hard work, dedication, and infinite patience. Thank you to Anthony, our manager, who sees to it that I don’t end up a drooling, sociopathic mess. Thank you to Brian, my partner, whose Virgo skillzors keep the place running, and whose freakish sense of humor keeps me afloat. Thank you to Teddy, for all his work with the Trading Post, and for being there for me always. Thank you to everyone at the Greek and Universal box offices in LA for being so fucking patient with me, for all their encouragement, and for all the years that they had to endure my abrasive, screeching boisterousness.

        And yay me! Three fuckin’ years, and I ain’t done yet!

        HAPPY ANNIVERSARY TO US!

        I know you’re getting impatient for the meat of the update, so what are you doing here, reading my babble?! Check out the Limited Edition page, Excolo, and Sin & Salvation.

        I love you guys very, very much. Thank you for everything!

        From the October 24, 2005 update:

        Guess who's back? Antique Lace! Back in her old home in the Bewitching Brews neighborhood.

        From the Blood Moon update:

        I'm opening this update with a hyooge, squishy public display of affection for my consort, the Great Love of My Life©... my Ghoulie Goalie, Tedwin. Its the big lug's birthday on October 17th. Not only is he my Prince Charming and Knight In Shining PVC, he's also the man in charge of the Black Phoenix Trading Post. Please feel free to send him all the dirty limericks, suggestive photos and crass come-on's that you want in his PM or email box. He's a Libra; he'll love it.

        We will do our best to see to it that all orders placed before November 15, 2005 get to you in time for Christmas. No offense intended to anyone that celebrates any other winter holiday; I refer to Christmas simply because it’s the primary gift-mania holiday of the season and a good roadside marker for us, so to speak. Anyway, we will all be working a hell of a lot of overtime to see to it that we get everything out as quickly as possible. And look at it this way if you’re buying someone BPAL for the holidays, at least you’re getting part of your shopping done early. [snort!]

        Upwards and onwards

        Much of the information pertaining to the current LE’s can be found on the Limited Edition page, so I won’t repeat it here. Bess and Ode On Melancholy are new to Bewitching Brews, Baudelaire makes another appearance in Love Potions with Sed Non Satiata, and the Garden has two new sprouts: Cobra Lily and Yew-Trees.

        Black Phoenix Trading Post has a heap of new items coming soon. Beaver Moon is now live there, too, and later in the week you’ll see the first of their hoodies and the Humane Society fundraiser tee. The first four of the Black Phoenix scent lockets will be live later in the year; YES! – the molds are now being cast. Around the same time, the first of the statues should be ready to go live, and thanks to the BPAL Doodle Goddess, more tee designs will go live soon.

        For the record, BPTP now ships internationally. Please refer to Tedwin’s FAQ for more information.

        Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab will be celebrating its third burf’day on November 18. I have something suitably twisted planned, so keep your eyes peeled.

        From the 1 Sept 2005 update:

        I'm opening this update with a HYOOGE 'Happy Birthday' to Brian, my business partner and right hand at the Lab. Happy birthday, you cantankerous old coot! We couldn't funtion without your anally retentive Virgo spaz-outs. He's Corinthian on the BPAL forum; please feel free to pelt him with dirty limericks and suggestive haiku. It'll make him even more uncomfortable than singing Happy Birthday in a crowded restaurant.

        What’s new this update? Quite a bit, actually. First, some bad news: Venom is discontinued. Apologies for the short notice; it is a component issue, and something we have no control over. We have enough to fill all pending orders, but that’s it.

        With the exception of Jazz Funeral, the new NOLA scents have been put on hold til Yuletide. Component issues, alas.

        Enough of the bad, onto the good:

        As promised, the new GC section is live – Rappaccini’s Garden. The following scents have been moved into the Garden from their previous homes:

        • Asphodel
        • Belladonna
        • Black Lotus
        • Black Rose
        • Blood Lotus
        • Blood Rose
        • Hemlock
        • Mantis
        • Moon Rose
        • Wolfsbane
        And three new plants have sprung to life:
          RAPPACCINI'S GARDEN
        • BANEBERRY -- A poisonous fruit-bearing member of the buttercup family. The scent, like the plant, is dark green, herbal, and plump with bulging black fruit.
        • BLACK HELLEBORE -- Also called Melampode. In witchcraft legend, this is one of the components of the notorious “flying ointment”, and is used in rituals that summon the Devil. In Greek mythology, Melampus of Pylos used hellebore to save the daughters of the king of Argos from a Dionysian Maenad-like madness. In Christian myth, hellebore was born from the tears a little girl shed onto the snow because she had no gift to give to the Christ child. In low magick, it has been used by farmers to protect their livestock from the evil eye. Court magicians have used it in martial invisibility spells, enabling spies and assassins to infiltrate enemy camps. Hellebore resembles the wild rose, but does not belong to their family. The scent is a pale green herbal, darkly rooty, with a faint rose and peony-like overtone.

          Borage and hellebore fill two scenes,
          Sovereign plants to purge the veins
          Of melancholy, and cheer the heart
          Of those black fumes which make it smart.

        • SHADOW WITCH ORCHID -- Orchid tubers have been used extensively by witches in their love philtres, both to promote amorous attention and the attainment of true love, and, conversely, to wither misplaced passions and sever romantic bonds. This perfume is a dusky orchid, subdued and ethereal.
        Over the next few updates, the following poisonous, carnivorous, and narcotic flora will sprout:
        • Cobra Lily
        • Dracula Orchid
        • Henbane
        • Mandrake
        • Monkshood
        • Opium Poppy
        • Venus Flytrap
        • Voodoo Lily
        The Hallowe’en LE’s are also live. The price per bottle for out Limited Edition Hallowe’en scents are $16.00 per 5ml of All Saint's, Devil's Night, Dia de los Muertos, Samhain, Sugar Skull, and Trick or Treat and is $80.00 for the Pumpkin Patch set. A portion of all profits from this LE series will go to the Red Cross Disaster Relief Fund.

        From the Red Cross web site:

        Hurricane experts predict that this will be one of the most active hurricane seasons in recent history. Hurricane Katrina is the eleventh named storm in this busy 2005 hurricane season. The Red Cross is responding to the victims of Hurricane Katrina, flooding in Texas, as well as preparing to respond to the next disaster, wherever that may be. You can help the victims of thousands of disasters across the country each year, including hurricanes, by making a financial gift to the Disaster Relief Fund, which enables the Red Cross to provide shelter, food, counseling and other assistance to those in need.

        Victims of Hurricane Katrina need your help immediately, and you don’t need to buy perfume in order to do so. You can go down to your local Red Cross center and donate blood, or you can contribute monetary donations by calling 1-800-HELP-NOW, logging onto the following link:

        https://www.redcross.org/donate/donation-form.asp

        ... or by sending your donation to:

        American Red Cross
        P.O. Box 37243
        Washington, DC 20013

        The Hallowe'en LE's will be available from September 1, 2005 til November 15, 2005. The Pumpkin Patch is only sold as a set, and will also be live until November 15, 2005.

          LIMITED EDITION: HALLOWE'EN
        • ALL SAINT’S 2005 -- Revisited! Based on a venerable French pontifical incense blend: monastic frankincense and myrrh, Damascus rose, Russian gardenia, cassia, and lily of the valley wafting on a chill Autumn wind. A celebration of the glory and suffering of the saints and matryrs of the Church.
        • DEVIL’S NIGHT -- Devil’s Eve, Devil’s Night, Gate Night, Trick Night, Mischief Night; whatever your name for it might be, the chaos is still the same. Contrary to popular belief, this festival of pandemonium isn’t unique to Detroit. Falling on October 30th, it is an evening of mayhem and destruction. On the gentler side, it may be celebrated by practical jokes, an egging, Ding-Dong-Ditch, or enthusiastic TP’ing of your most hated neighbor’s trees, and on the more violent side, arson and vandalism. This is the scent of autumn night, fires in the distance, with a touch of boozy swoon, playful sugar and thuggish musk.
        • DIA DE LOS MUERTOS 2005 -- Revisited! A joyous celebration of La Catarina, La Flaca, La Muerte Glorious, Beautiful Death. In Mexico, death is not something to be feared or hated; She is embraced, loved, and adored. La Muerte is fêted, as the celebrant " chases after it, mocks it, courts it, hugs it, sleeps with it; it is his favorite plaything and his most lasting love." This is a Mexican paean to La Huesuda: dry, crackling leaves, the incense smoke of altars honoring Death and the Dead, funeral bouquets, the candies, chocolates, foods and tobacco of the ofrenda, amaranth, sweet cactus blossom and desert cereus.
        • SAMHAIN 2005 -- Revisited! All the depth, beauty and darkness of All Hallows Eve. Truly the scent of autumn itself -- damp woods, fir needle, and black patchouli with the gentlest touches of warm pumpkin, clove, nutmeg, allspice, sweet red apple and mullein.
        • SUGAR SKULL 2005 -- Revisited! Vibrant with the joy and sweetness of life in death! A blend of five sugars, lightly dusted with candied fruits.
        • TRICK OR TREAT -- The sticky sweet scent of candy corn!
        And...

        LIMITED EDITION: THE PUMPKIN PATCH COLLECTION

        Once upon a time, many centuries ago, there lived, in the meadows of Ireland, a lazy, wicked farmer by the name of Stingy Jack. Lazy, wicked and cheap, yes, but also as shrewd as a fox. One night, Stingy Jack came across the Devil as he was walking down the road, and he invited Old Scratch to have a drink with him. They walked to the closest tavern, and drank together through the night. When the time came to pay, Stingy Jack convinced the Devil to change himself into a sixpence so the two of them could fool the bartender. Instead of paying the barkeep with the demon-turned-spare-change, Stingy Jack palms the sixpence, and puts it in his pocket next to a silver cross – keeping the Devil from changing back into his true form, and rendering him powerless. Jack, thinking himself quite clever, then makes a deal with the Devil: he would set the Devil free on one condition – that the Devil would swear never to pass Stingy Jack’s soul into Hell. The next year, on All Hallow’s Eve, Stingy Jack dies. Because of his wickedness and pettiness, he is turned away from the Gates of Heaven. As he approaches Hell, the Devil is there, laughing at Jack, barring his way through the Gates of Hell, as he had renounced any claim he had on Stingy Jack’s soul. The Devil, laughing still at the look of dismay on Jack’s face, tosses him a coal from the Fires of Perdition and tells him that the flames of Hell will light his way, wherever he may roam. Undead and disconsolate, Jack returns to his farm in Ireland, carves out one of his turnips and places the coal inside it. To this day, he wanders the Earth, aimlessly: the man neither Heaven nor Hell would have. Through time, the turnip of lore morphed into the pumpkin that we now use for our Hallowe’en decor. For your demonic lantern-carving pleasure, we present five delightfully strange pumpkin variants:

        Pumpkin with apple cider and mulling spice.
        Pumpkin with cocoa, hazelnut and walnut.
        Pumpkin and pomegranate.
        Pumpkin with sandalwood and orris.
        Pumpkin with five woods, English ivy and galangal root.

        Sold only in the Pumpkin Patch set, available until November 15th, 2005.

        No, the 'revisited' scents are, sadly, not identical to last year's formulas, but they are close aproximations.

        From 9/1 – 1/15, A Demon In My View – our tribute to the poetic works of Edgar Allan Poe – will be live.

          LIMITED EDITION: A DEMON IN MY VIEW
        • AL ARAAF -- Honeyed lilies, dry lotus root and fae flowers
        • ALONE -- A hectic, frenzied pinpoint in desolation: booming, bleak, and dark with the horror of loneliness and reluctant solitude. Patchouli and cardamom with bright mandarin, labdanum, muguet, red sandalwood, angelica and gardenia.
        • ANNABEL LEE -- A soft, innocent blend, touched with a funereal, gloom-filled air: wild peony, sweet pea, cucumber and white sage with sea lilies and moss.
        • THE CITY IN THE SEA -- The scent of Death’s seaside throne: luminous aquatic notes threaded through by creeping ivies, white woods, waving kelp and bruised violets.
        • DREAMLAND -- The shadowy, fitful scent of nightmare, rife with ill-omen: osmanthus and tuberose over pulsating, heated skin musk, spiked carnation, night phlox and vesper iris.
        • EVENING STAR -- A chill, crystalline nocturnal perfume: moonflower with oriental poppy, fairy lily, orris and night gladiolus.
        • THE HAUNTED PALACE -- The moment before the ruin, frozen. The scent of captured glory, of glowing pearls and rubies, of golden sunlit joy and regal grandeur: red rose, Tunisian amber, blood orange, toasted vanilla, heliotrope, gardenia and red musk.
        • LENORE -- A dark and bellicose scent that speaks of loss, lament, bitterness and breast-beating woe: thick black vetiver, sharp white musk and lemon peel, smoke and saffron, patchouli, thyme and black plum.
        • THE SLEEPER -- Night-blooming jasmine, opium poppy, wild rosemary, Calla lily, oakmoss and crypt musk.
        • SPIRITS OF THE DEAD -- A shuddering white scent, of ghostly breath and stony silence: dry tea leaf, linden blossom, papyrus, orris and coffin wood.
        As with Springtime in Arkham and Carnaval Noir, A Demon In My View is available in a pack: the Hideous Throng Ensemble. All the grief, horror, madness and opium-addled reverie you can shake a walking stick at for a mere $140US.

        There have been a few additions, too, to the General Catalogue.

          BEWITCHING BREWS
        • LURID -- Shocking, horrific, fierce, savage, sensationalized, luminous and hazy: black currant, Bulgarian lavender and white musk with a dollop of thick resin and a voltaic charge of ozone notes.
        • TWENTY-ONE --
          I like to drink martinis
          Two at the very most.
          Three, I'm under the table,
          Four, I'm under my host.
          -- Dorothy Parker

          A tribute to New York’s 21 Club on West 52nd, formerly the speakeasy Jack & Charlie’s Puncheon Club. This is the scent of the perfect martini:

          The Perfect Martini, as an idea, has infinite possibilities. For me, the Dry Martini remains an American symbol of elusive perfection, a kind of pagan Holy Grail. The dedicated Martini drinker views this deceptively simple cocktail as a true if fleeting, salvation, ... As in religion, one may not have actually witnessed the Conception of the Perfect Martini, but one accepts on faith that it exists, and that it takes away the sins of the earth.
          -- The Martini, Barnaby Conrad III

          This scent is dedicated to all the mods on the BPAL forum as thanks for their hard work, friendship, and for all they do to make the forum a pleasant, safe, and friendly place.
          FUNEREAL OILS
        • JAZZ FUNERAL --
          Considered a great honor, this is one of the most distinguished aspects of New Orleans culture. Its roots lie in the customs of the Dahomeans and Yoruba people, and is a celebration of both the person’s life and the beauty and solemnity of their death. The procession is lead by the Grand Marshal, resplendent in his black tuxedo, white gloves and black hat in hand; almost a vision of the great Baron Samedi himself. The music begins with solemn, tolling dirges, moves into hymns of sorrow, loss and redemption. When the burial site is reached, a two-note preparatory riff is sounded, and the drummers start the second-line beat, heralding the switch in music to joyous, upbeat songs, dancing, and the unfurling of richly decorated umbrellas by the “second line”: friends, family, loved ones and stray celebrants. Strutting, bouncing, and festive dance accompanies the upbeat ragtime music that sends the departed soul onto its next journey.

          Didn’t he ramble
          ... he rambled
          Rambled all around
          ... in and out of town
          Didn’t he ramble
          ... didn’t he ramble
          He rambled till the butcher cut him down.

          His feet was in the market place
          his head was in the street
          Lady pass him by, said
          look at the market meat
          He grabbed her pocket book
          and said I wish you well
          She pulled out a forty-five
          said I’m head of personnel.

          Didn’t he ramble
          ... he rambled
          Rambled all around
          ... in and out of town
          Didn’t he ramble
          ... didn’t he ramble
          He rambled till the butcher cut him down.

          He slipped into the cat house
          made love to the stable
          Madam caught him cold
          said I’ll pay you when I be able
          Six months had passed
          and she stood all she could stand
          She said buddy when I’m through with you
          Ole groundhog gonna be shakin yo’ hand.

          Didn’t he ramble
          ... he rambled
          Rambled all around
          ... in and out of town
          Didn’t he ramble
          ... didn’t he ramble
          He rambled till the butcher cut him down.

          I said he rambled
          lord
          ...’ till the butcher shot him down.

          Bittersweet bay rum, bourbon, and a host of funeral flowers with a touch of graveyard dirt, magnolia and Spanish Moss.
          WANDERLUST
        • THE HAMPTONS --
          Diese Tage, die leer dir scheinen
          und wertlos für das All,
          haben Wurzeln zwischen den Steinen
          und trinken dort überall.

          . . .

          But nothing's lost. Or else: all is translation
          And every bit of us is lost in it
          (Or found—I wander through the ruin of S
          Now and then, wondering at the peacefulness)
          And in that loss a self-effacing tree,
          Color of context, imperceptibly
          Rustling with its angel, turns the waste
          To shade and fiber, milk and memory.

          The scent of a Cosmopolitan cocktail.
        As soon as we iron out a few problems, BPTP will be ready for its update. I’m aiming for the end of next week, but that is only if good fortune shines on us. We're still aiming for TAL's incept date to hit end of October.

        [Knocks on all adjacent wooden objects.]

        And that’s it, my darlin’s. Until next time.

        From the 19 August, 2005 update:

        She lives!

        This update might as well be dubbed “Beth Flips Out on the Incense and Leather Update”. Consider yourself warned.

        New in the LE department

          LIMITED EDITION
        • BEATRICE -- "Am I awake? Have I my senses?" said he to himself. "What is this being? Beautiful shall I call her, or inexpressibly terrible?"

          A scent inspired by Beatrice, Rappaccini’s delicate, beautiful, innocent and deadly daughter. A fragile, winsome, poisonous blend of rare, precious and graceful flowers, rich blossoms and spicy perfumes that passes heavily, as a broken heart, across the borders of Time.
        Carnivàle Revisited, and the whole Carnaval Noir series, will be available until September 1, 2005. Beatrice, also, will be available until September 1st, and when she passes, our new scent category will come to life in the general catalogue: Rappaccini's Garden. There will be a little bit of scent shuffling as we move the black and blood flowers and some of the other flora-themed scents into their new home, and several new scents will be introduced on that day, including Aconite, Baneberry, Black Hellebore and Deadly Nightshade.

        Also new in the current update:

          BEWITCHING BREWS
        • DEE -- John Dee: master of science, alchemy and magic, Hermetic philosopher in the schools of Rosicrucian Christian Mysticism and Platonic-Pythagorean doctrine, and Queen Elizabeth’s astrologer, advisor, cryptologist and spy. With Edward Kelly, he created a field of study and work in Angelic Evocation, and isolated the Angelic language: Enochian. His scent is soft English leather, rosewood and tonka with a hint of incense, parchment and soft woods.

          SIN & SALVATION
        • LES INFORTUNES DE LA VERTU -- A pain-tinged, pleasure-soaked blend of leather, oakmoss, orange blossom, amber, and rose with a breath of virginal French florals and a hint of austere monastic penitential incense.

          EXCOLO
        • THANATOS -- One of the horrible, painful, cruel, brooding, mocking and malignant children of Nyx, he is Death Incarnate, and is seen as a willowy young man, accompanied by a butterfly, bearing an inverted torch and funeral wreath in his hands. In modern thought, thanks to Sigmund Freud, it is the Death Instinct: love of death, destruction and decay, and the desire to embrace the quiescence, silence and peace of the grave. Dry white sandalwood and soft Siamese benzoin over a lugubrious blend of myrrh, Moroccan rose, mastic, tomb moss and a thin whiff of Greek incense.
        And that, friends and neighbors, is all you're going to get outta me til September!

        From the July 21st update:

        Happy Thursday, all! My head is foggy from summer flu fun [yes, I'm sick again] and the monstrous weather, so I’m going to make this update on the update brief and to the point. Black Phoenix Trading Post will be introducing a few new tees and a Carnaval Noir poster [images courtesy of the fantastic, the inimitable Jennifer Williamson] within the next few days. We had hoped to have both sites update simultaneously, but due to logistical issues, this is not possible. The elemental blends [Gnome, Sylph, Salamander and Undine] will be live on the BPTP site when the new tees and poster go live. We’ll keep you posted.

        For reasons too numerous to mention, Carnaval Noir will remain up and whirling until September 1st, 2005.

        Bad news: Glitter has been discontinued due to a component issue.

        New at the Lab:

          LIMITED EDITION
        • NUMB -- I don’t know about the weather where you’re at, but here in L.A it is brain-frying’ly, grr-stickity hot. This icy blend was something that we were saving for the upcoming [not soon enough!] winter months, but since Brian and I watched the thermometer slap 107 today, we decided that there’s no better time than the present to introduce a singularly chilly, delectably ice-rimmed perfume. Revel in the gelid polar frostiness that is Numb, and forget about the heat for a moment. This scent is extremely limited, and will be available until all the bottles are spoken for.

          BEWITCHING BREWS
        • BLACK OPAL -- A play of geological darkness and jagged brilliance. Soft and luminescent with flashes of black fire.
        • THE BLACK TOWER --
          Say that the men of the old black tower,
          Though they but feed as the goatherd feeds,
          Their money spent, their wine gone sour,
          Lack nothing that a soldier needs,
          That all are oath-bound men:
          Those banners come not in.

          There in the tomb stand the dead upright,
          But winds come up from the shore:
          They shake when the winds roar,
          Old bones upon the mountain shake.


          Those banners come to bribe or threaten,
          Or whisper that a man's a fool
          Who, when his own right king's forgotten,
          Cares what king sets up his rule.
          If he died long ago
          Why do you dread us so?

          There in the tomb drops the faint moonlight,
          But wind comes up from the shore:
          They shake when the winds roar,
          Old bones upon the mountain shake.


          The tower's old cook that must climb and clamber
          Catching small birds in the dew of the morn
          When we hale men lie stretched in slumber
          Swears that he hears the king's great horn.
          But he's a lying hound:
          Stand we on guard oath-bound!

          There in the tomb the dark grows blacker,
          But wind comes up from the shore:
          They shake when the winds roar,
          Old bones upon the mountain shake.


          A sepulchral, desolate scent. Long-dead soldiers, oath-bound; the perfume of their armor, the chill wind that surges through their tower, white bone and blackened steel: white sandalwood, ambergris, wet ozone, galbanum and leather with ebony, teak, burnt grasses, English ivy and a hint of red wine.
        • EPHEMERA --
          'Your eyes that once were never weary of mine
          Are bowed in sorrow under pendulous lids,
          Because our love is waning.'
                                      And then She:
          'Although our love is waning, let us stand
          By the lone border of the lake once more,
          Together in that hour of gentleness
          When the poor tired child, passion, falls asleep.
          How far away the stars seem, and how far
          Is our first kiss, and ah, how old my heart!'

          Pensive they paced along the faded leaves,
          While slowly he whose hand held hers replied:
          'Passion has often worn our wandering hearts.'

          The woods were round them, and the yellow leaves
          Fell like faint meteors in the gloom, and once
          A rabbit old and lame limped down the path;
          Autumn was over him: and now they stood
          On the lone border of the lake once more:
          Turning, he saw that she had thrust dead leaves
          Gathered in silence, dewy as her eyes,
          In bosom and hair.
                                      'Ah, do not mourn,' he said,
          'That we are tired, for other loves await us;
          Hate on and love through unrepining hours.
          Before us lies eternity; our souls
          Are love, and a continual farewell.'

          The scent of loss, love and the echo of time without end: sorrowful violet and chamomile with muguet, white geranium, calla lily and tea rose with a hint of autumn leaves.

          FUNEREAL OILS
        • ASPHODEL -- The grey and ghostly flower that fills the fields of Hades.

          WANDERLUST
        • BENGAL -- A sultry and unruly blend that emulates the ambient scent of the markets in ancient Bengal: skin musk with honey, peppers, clove, cinnamon bark and ginger.
        • VERSAILLES -- Grand, courtly and robust: a glittering, golden scent that would do Louis XIV proud. Gilded red and gold citrus with amber, ruby roses, jasmine and orris.

          EXCOLO
        • AL-SHAIRAN -- The enemy of God, also named Iblis, He Who Despaired of the Mercy of God. Al-Shairan is the leader of the Jinn, a tempter who whispers false suggestions to men enticing them into evil and perfidious acts, and is the sworn enemy of all of Adam’s children. His scent is fiery, bright and thick with sweet sinfulness: clove, peach and orange with cinnamon, patchouli and dark incense notes.
        • OLD SCRATCH -- Old Nick, the Devil himself, as seen through the eyes of Victorian New England. A jaunty, dapper scent, deceptively genteel: a lavender fougere with tonka, amber, rosewood and a whiff of diabolical patchouli.

          PANACEA
        • ELIXIR VII: SAFARI -- A travel blend. Calms nerves, alleviates tension, soothes jetlag.

        And that, my angels, is all the news that's fit to print.



        From the 6/22 update:

        Carnivàle [Revisited] is back until August 1, 2005. Love In The Asylum, a limited edition scent inspired by Dylan Thomas' poem, will be live until July 1, 2005.

        From the June 1st update:

        Carnaval Noir



        From the Friday the 13th update:

        This, too, will have to be brief, as I still feel like a bus full of Ebola monkeys ran me over.

        Did anyone see Outbreak?

        or 28 Days Later?

        Ah, but enough of that. Happy Friday the 13th, all! May black cats avoid you, and your salt shakers remain upright. The Limited Edition blend, 13, will be available until just after midnight on Saturday the Fourteenth. For reasons I’m too exhausted to get into, Chaos Theory II will also be available until that time. 13 will reappear every Friday the 13th, which brings it back to town in January of 2006.

        Also new in this update

          BEWITCHING BREWS
        • GRAND GUIGNOL -- In 1897, a new form of entertainment was presented to the people of Montmartre, Paris: the Théâtre du Grand Guignol. During the course of an evening at the theatre, one would watch several small plays, ranging from crime dramas to sexual farces, a violent, throat-ripping, eye-gouging, acid-tossing good time, which always included shock topics such as infanticide, necrophilia, insanity, murder, paranoia, vengeance and death by common household object. Our Grand Guignol perfume is a shot of sweet apricot brandy; just enough to settle your nerves after a ghoulish, gory brush with the macabre.
        • PENNY DREADFUL -- Also called Gallows Literature. A dime novel rife with melodrama, horror, madness and cruelty; a ten cent analogy of vice and virtue in conflict. Soft perfume evocative of noir heroines over rich red grave loam.
          EXCOLO
        • ELEGBA -- The Spirit of the Divine Messenger, the Lord of the Crossroads, He Who Owns All Doors and Roads in this World. He is the intermediary between the Orishas and mankind, and stands at the intersection of humanity and the Divine. He opens all paths of communication, both mundane and Heavenly. His ofrenda contains coconut, tobacco and sweet, sugared rum.
        • HIMERUS -- The God of Sexual Desire, Longing and Yearning; an attendant of Eros and Aphrodite. A passion-rousing blend of juniper, sandalwood, rosewood, red musk, orchid, bergamot and lilac.
        • PANNYCHIS -- An attendant of the Goddess Venus. She presides over nocturnal pleasure, nighttime festivities, and all the joy and delight that can be found in the darkness. In later ages, it became the name of the all-night festival that closed the Eleusinian Mysteries. Night-blooming jasmine, moonflower, cardamom, sandalwood, black currant, ylang ylang, frankincense and lily.
        • PEITHO -- The Goddess of Persuasion, Seduction and Sexual Wiles. A member of Aphrodite’s retinue, she is also Aphrodite’s daughter and sister to Tyche and Eunomia. Lusty myrtle and jasmine with red sandalwood, stargazer lily, and clove over an opulent, rich bed of warm musk and bourbon vanilla.
          EXCOLO: THE ZORYA
          Also called the Auroras. The Slavic Triple Goddesses of the Dawn, Sky and Light, who govern the paths of the day. The guard the constellation Ursa Minor from the chained Hound of Doomsday; should they ever fail in their duty, and the chain breaks, the universe will end.
        • UTRENNYAYA -- The Morning Star: Osmanthus, Damascus rose, violet, delphinium, white mint, palmarosa and white sandalwood.
        • VECHERNYAYA -- The Evening Star: Three white musks with poppy and patchouli.
        • ZORYA -- The Midnight Star: Spices of the Orient mingle with crystalline musk, midnight flowers and cereus, jasmine, primrose and vesper iris.
          WANDERLUST
        • BAGHDAD -- Amber, saffron and bergamot with mandarin, nutmeg, Bulgar rose, musk and sandalwood.
        • EDEN -- At the center of the Garden of Eden stands the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. Though modern interpretations of the Bible claim that it was an apple that the Serpent of the Tree offered to Eve, it is widely believed that the true Fruit of True Knowledge was, in fact, a fig. This oil contains the innocence of the Garden, coupled with the Truth and Erudition found in the fruit of the Tree of Evil: fig leaf, fig fruit, honeyed almond milk, toasted coconut and sandalwood.
        • SANTA EULÀRIA DES RIU -- Piquant citrus tempered by jasmine, soft Mediterranean herbs, lavender and orange blossom.
        • SRI LANKA -- Indian sandalwood and cedar, and the dry incense smoke of olibanum, gum mastic, patchouli and myrrh.
          PANACEA
        • DETOX -- Purge, purify, cleanse.
          VOODOO BLENDS
        • FRENCH LOVE -- A warm, soft, sexual blend. Sweet and alluring. Used to entice new lovers and add an aura of temptation and carnal sin to your environment.

        On June 1st, Springtime In Arkham will pass into the ether, and will be replaced by Carnavale Noir, a 13-deep LE miniseries.

        And that, ladies and gentlemen, is all the news that's fit to print.

        From 5/7/2005:

        Your faithful Lab Rat is running a fairly massive temperature, so the intro to the mini-update will be brief and to the point.

        Chaos Theory II: the Butterfly Effect is live. Information can be found on the Limited Edition page, and it will run from today until Friday the 13th. Elegba, the Divine Messenger, has joined Excolo, and we welcome Him with open arms.

        Two updates are slated for the near future: one on Friday the 13th, the other when Springtime In Arkham passes.

        From 5/2/2005:

        Due to unforeseen repercussions of the Florida hurricanes, the following oils will be discontinued until further notice:

        Baobhan Sith
        Cheshire Cat
        Lex Talionis
        Shattered

        Megaera is being slightly reformulated.

        Apologies for any inconvenience, and thank you for understanding; this came upon us quite suddenly.

        Updated April Fool's Day, some time in the AM:

        Oh LORD, I am TIRED, so the update on the update is going to be straight and to the point. The BPAL logo contest has been postponed til April 5th. Please get any and all entried to me by midnight, April 3rd.

        New scents abound! In the general catalogue, two new perfumes are making their debut:

          BEWITCHING BREWS
        • BLOOD PEARL -- Lustrous, sanguine, soft and lavish: soft orris, blood musk, and coconut.
          EXCOLO
        • TEZCATLIPOCA -- Lord of the Smoking Mirror, god of sorcery, nighttime, darkness, beauty, war, heroic men, beautiful women, and all material concerns. Tezcatlipoca is the Master Magician, a trickster god and shapeshifter, governing all worldly matters, and is also the Great Tempter, seducing men into evil acts and subsequently punishing them for their transgressions. Deep cocoa laced with patchouli, leather armor, ritual incense, and a touch of Xochiquetzal’s flowers.
        And from April 1 - June 1, it is Springtime in Arkham, along with a Mythos-Inspired Limited Edition blend: the Mi-Go Brain Canister.

          LIMITED EDITION
        • MI-GO BRAIN CANISTER -- They were pinkish things about five feet long; with crustaceous bodies bearing vast pairs of dorsal fins or membraneous wings and several sets of articulated limbs, and with a sort of convoluted ellipsoid, covered with multitudes of very short antennae, where a head would ordinarily be.... As it was, nearly all the rumours had several points in common; averring that the creatures were a sort of huge, light-red crab with many pairs of legs and with two great bat-like wings in the middle of their back. They sometimes walked on all their legs, and sometimes on the hindmost pair only, using the others to convey large objects of indeterminate nature. On one occasion they were spied in considerable numbers, a detachment of them wading along a shallow woodland watercourse three abreast in evidently disciplined formation. Once a specimen was seen flying—launching itself from the top of a bald, lonely hill at night and vanishing in the sky after its great flapping wings had been silhouetted an instant against the full moon.

          The Mi-Go are the Fungi from Yuggoth [the planet we naïvely dubbed Pluto], a crustacean-like, winged humanoid race that travel to the highest mountain peaks on Earth to mine for minerals. They do pick up the occasional human brain during their trips to Earth, which they transport back to Yuggoth in a canister. While in this brain jar, the transported brain is fully-conscious, and, thanks to the miracles of modern Mi-Go technology, is possessed of all its faculties and the power of speech.

          In an effort to create a pleasing environment during a surprise trip to Yuggoth, we have created a soothing yet stimulating blend of pink pepper, peony, jasmine, mango, kiwi, pomegranate, pineapple, white ginger, serene white tea and light musks. Bon voyage!
        The carrier oils that used to occupy the Etcetera slot are now discontinued. Requiescat in pace, little guys.

        It's time for me to go to bed before my head smacks the keyboard again. Iä Cthulhu!

        |:||:|::|:||:|

        From the 25.3.2005 update:

        As you may have noticed, there have been a few changes to the Black Phoenix site, but before I get to those, I’m going to lay down the new scents for this update:
          LIMITED EDITION
        • BELTANE -- One of the holiest days in the Pagan calendar, Beltane [May Day, Cetsamhain, Floralia and Roodmas also, Beltaine, Bealtaine, Bealtuinn, Beletene, La Bheltine] is the Day of Baal’s Fire, and marks the midpoint of Sol’s path between the Vernal Equinox and Summer Solstice. In Druidic tradition, need-fires were set atop hills in a symbolic gesture of bringing the Sun’s light down to Earth. Celebrants danced around the fires in harmony with the Sun’s seeming movement through the sky, and passed eadar dà theine Bhealltuinn, between the Fires of Beltane, to purify themselves. In Scotland, all hearth fires were extinguished, and the flames from the need-fires were used to rekindle their flames, bringing blessings and good fortune into the household. It doesn’t matter where your faith lies, Beltane is sacred to us simply because we’re human. It is a celebration of new growth, rebirth, of the fertility of our land, our spirits and our bodies, and is a reminder of the joy in simply being alive. Celebrate life! Wind some flowers into your hair, dab a little oil behind each ear, toss the first petals of springtime onto your yard, and bless your garden the old fashioned way!
        • HEXENNACHT -- The Night of the Witches. In the Teutonic calendar, April 30, not October 31, was the night that the witches congregated to celebrate their Work through ecstatic dance, wild music and revelry. The witches fêted with spirits, fairies, and a bevy of otherworldy creatures atop Brockenberg peak in the Harz region of Germany, where they lit an enormous bonfire and cavorted naked until midnight at which point they donned their robes, boarded their brooms, flying rams and sacred goats, scooped up their cat familiars, and sped off into the night. In later days, it was believed that on this night the witches conjured the devil, who would then select one of them for his bride. This perfume is the scent of the witches’ revel: German fir and forest herbs, incense and bonfire smoke, and the wet, glimmering scent of skin warmed by dance.

        As of tonight, Graveyard Dirt and the Ides of March are still available. The scents that were formerly under Oblation [Cerberus, Chiroptera, Corazon, Oisín, and Thunderbird] are being discontinued on April 15th. Until then, they will be up in the LE section of the site.

        Also new in this update:

          LOVE POTIONS
        • SUSPIRO -- A Latin word that means to sigh or draw a deep breath, that also suggests longing, desire, yearning, and a passionate wish. Ylang ylang with white plum, white orchid, jasmine, calla lily and lily of the valley.

          MAD TEA PARTY
        • TWO, FIVE & SEVEN -- ‘Would you tell me,’ said Alice, a little timidly, ‘why you are painting those roses?’

          Five and Seven said nothing, but looked at Two. Two began in a low voice, ‘Why the fact is, you see, Miss, this here ought to have been a red rose-tree, and we put a white one in by mistake; and if the Queen was to find it out, we should all have our heads cut off, you know. So you see, Miss, we’re doing our best, afore she comes, to—’

          A huge bouquet of squished rose petals: Bulgarian rose, Somalian rose, Turkish rose, Damascus rose, red and white rose, tea rose, wine rose, shrub roses, rose, rose, rose

          and just an itty bitty bit of green grass.
        And the Elixirs of the Panacea Collection: a selection of therapeutic blends to soothe the mind, renew the senses, and stimulate your spirit. They are $23.00 for a 5ml, and there are no imps available for these blends.

          PANACEA
        • ELIXIR I: SEDUCTION -- Passion, sensuality, romance, sexual sensitivity.
        • ELIXIR II: SUCCOR -- Relaxation, calm, finding center.
        • ELIXIR III: LUSTRATION -- Mental, physical and spiritual purification.
        • ELIXIR IV: QUIETUDE -- Peace, serenity, tranquility, silence.
        • ELIXIR V: MOXIE -- Energy, vigor, verve, strength, courage, balls.
        And now, the news:

        As of the April 1st update, all Limited Editions will be $15.00 per 5ml. One dollar from the sale of each limited edition, as of April 1st, will be distributed amongst a rotation of charitable causes.

        In an effort to further organize the blends, there has been some movement amongst the oils. Somnium now has its own category, and Excolo has been created to house all the Deity blends. Some other oils have been shuffled hither and thither. Please wander around the site; it’ll be a cinch to reacquaint yourself with the oils new, orderly and ever-so-cozy homes.

        In April, we will be offering Lunar and Imp Pack subscriptions, which will be detailed in the This & That section.

        Coterie is devoted to BPAL-inspired crafts, art, poetry and prose, and will also debut in April. If you have anything you would like to contribute, please email it to Elizabeth.

        On April 1st, the Springtime in Arkham collection will go live, and will haunt the Lab from April til June.

        In the beginning of April, we will finally be escaping our current credit card processor’s clutches. This means about a gazillion good things for both I and thy, including the ability to process international orders through the site Details of all the pertinent changes will be available as soon as the new site goes live.

        Another million thanks to Kate for her invaluable help with the move to the new cart. We could not possibly have done it without you. Thanks also to Dawne and David at Pixeled for all of their help with this!

        At the moment, that’s all the news that’s fit to print! I’ll babble again on April Fool’s Day.

        From the 15.3.2005 update:

        Surprise! We've got a small update in addition to tonight's Black Phoenix Trading Post update: the Limited Edition scent, the Ides of March is live, and Graveyard Dirt is making a guest appearance!

          LIMITED EDITION
        • THE IDES OF MARCH -- The Ides marked an auspicious time in the Roman calendar. Depending on the month in question, the Ides fell on the thirteenth or fifteenth, and usually marked the Full Moon. As we all know, it was not an auspicious day for Julius Caesar, nor was it fortuitous for H.P. Lovecraft, who also met his maker on this infamous day. Tu quoque, Brute, fili mi! A mixture of springtime greenery and classical Roman cologne: rosemary, bergamot, lemon rind and vervain with costus, benzoin, gray amber, cardamom, white narcissus and iris.
        • GRAVEYARD DIRT -- A tribute to a somehat nefarious and truly notorious ingredient in New Orleans spellcrafting. It is employed in hoodoo rootwork for various reasons, primarily in spells of protection, “tricking” your enemies, binding, and even love magick. The graves are chosen based on the type of working, and are determined by the type of spirit that lies there and the manner of their demise. Payment is always required in the form of offerings to the deceased. This is the scent of pure graveyard dust, spattered with grave loam and dusted lightly with tombstone moss.

        Please note: Graveyard Dirt was placed in Funereal Oils and not Voodoo, as this version of Graveyard Dirt does not possess the esoteric qualities of the Twilight Alchemy Lab oil of the same name, though the scent is damn near identical.

        Also in this update:

          BEWITCHING BREWS
        • NUIT -- She is the Goddess of the Sky, one of the Ennead, daughter of the air [Shu] and water [Tefnut], lover of Geb and Hadit, the Eternal Mother, and the Receiver, Reviver and Protector of the Dead, whose loving, divine embrace shields our souls from annihilation. She is love, rapture, splendor, continuous and eternal birth and rebirth, infinite space, and the “the naked brilliance of the voluptuous night”. Nuit is Earth’s guardian, and shields her lover and her mortal children from the primeval chaos that threatens Existence. Her perfume is starry and crystalline, a jewel-clad and glittering paean to night: dazzling white musks, white rose and night-blooming jasmine with the soft moss of moonlit meadows, a waft of Egyptian incense, and a gentle breath of moonflower.

          FUNEREAL OILS
        • HADES -- The gloomy Hades enriches himself with our sighs and our tears. The Unseen. Eldest brother of Zeus, Husband of Persephone, Lord of the Underworld and Commander of the Demons of the Underworld, God of Wealth, whose epithets are Clymenus [Notorious], Eubuleus [Wise in Counsel], and Polydegmon [He who receives many / The Hospitable]. Though he is a dark, morbid and morose deity, fierce and relentless, and is stern, pitiless, and sometimes cruel, he is by no means an evil God. His justice is true, even-handed and absolute, and he is possessed of unbreakable loyalty, single-minded devotion to duty, and immense courage. A dark, palpably sacred chthonic blend: black narcissus and cypress, stephanotis, opoponax, labdanum, onycha and ambergris.

          SIN & SALVATION
        • GOMORRAH -- One of the Biblical Cities on the Plain, destroyed by God with fire and brimstone because of its people’s pride, prosperous ease, deceit, hedonism and indolence, and their callous, uncharitable hearts. A gritty, sordid and languid scent: ripe fig, date and currant with black herbs.

          WANDERLUST
        • THE HANGING GARDENS -- The Hanging Gardens of Babylon, one of the Great Wonders of the World, were believed to be created by Nebuchadnezzar, possibly to honor the Assyrian princess Semiramis, or, more likely, to cheer up Nebuchadnezzar’s unhappy, homesick wife, Amyitis. If the latter is to be believed, it is speculated that Amyitis found the dry, arid landscape of Mesopotamia, in contrast to the lush greenery of her homeland, to be staggeringly depressing and bleak. To bolster her spirits, the king recreated a fascimile of her mountanous, green home with this fantastic terraced wonder filled with sparkling waterfalls, strange beasts, and exotic fruits, trees and flowers.

          This perfume is an interpretation of the Hanging Gardens by night, based on further accounts of its fruit and flora: date palm, ebony, fir, pomegranate, plum, two pears, quince, fig, and grapevine with plumeria, three gardenias and dry rose.

        And new at the Black Phoenix Trading Post: the BPAL Touché Tee!



        The Triple Dagger tee, a wicked Baphomet statue based on Eliphas Levi's illustration and three Goetic cuties will be live and snarling at the Trading Post this April.

        |:||:|::|:||:|

        From the 2/24 update:

        Happy birthday to me.

        New tonight... [dramatic pause and drumroll, if you please]:

          BEWITCHING BREWS
        • AEVAL -- A raven-haired Fairy Queen of Ireland. One of her eternal duties dictates that she must hold a midnight court every season and hear the pleas of married Irishwomen. The court serves only to determine whether or not husbands are adequately serving their wife’s sexual needs. A judicious yet powerfully sensual blend, a mingling of justice and sexuality: sage, sweet pea, bold pale musk and warm tonka.
        • JUKE JOINT -- A bawdy, gleefully wicked and unruly scent: Kentucky Bourbon, sugar and a sprig of mint.
        • LEANAN SIDHE -- Most of the Gaelic poets, down to quite recent times, have had a Leanhaun Shee, for she gives inspiration to her slaves and is indeed the Gaelic muse -- this malignant fairy. Her lovers, the Gaelic poets, died young. She grew restless and carried them away to other worlds, for death does not destroy her power. – W.B. Yeats

          The name translates to “fairy, love of my soul”. A vampiric spirit and a dark muse, the love of the Leanan Sidhe is both a gift and a curse. These eerily beautiful Irish spirits drain the sanity and lifeforce of the men they inspire to artistic greatness. Her kiss infuses a man with depth of vision and feeling, otherworldly passion, and a sudden and ineffable understanding of the unending sadness that plagues mankind. Her perfume is a crush of Irish herbs and flowers, Gaelic mists, and nighttime dew.
        • SANTA MUERTE -- Santa Muerte, Saint Death, is not a harbinger of doom and symbol of entropy. She is the Queen of Mercy, a source of motherly comfort, and a symbol to all sweethearts that love lasts even beyond death. She is a vision of beauty in her own right: glittering rings adorn every bony finger, she is draped in a cloak of the finest satin, and her grinning skull, beneath her cowl, is crowned by a bejeweled tiara. A deep, resonant scent, both comforting and soft: lovers’ roses, solemn chrysanthemum, dark vetiver and dazzling cactus flowers.

          FUNEREAL OILS
        • DANCE OF DEATH -- A gloriously elegant representation of Lady Death. Dry, bone-white orris, black musk, serpentine patchouli and our murkiest myrrh.
        • THE GHOST -- A thin, sinuous, creeping chill, the scent of glee-filled undeath: white iris, osmanthus, Calla lily, tomb-crawling ivy and a coffin spray of gladiolus, lisianthus and delphinium.

          SIN & SALVATION
        • ROSE CROSS -- A profound symbol of an individual’s personal initiatic process, spiritual refinement and evolution, synthesis, grace found as a result of trial and suffering, and the alchemical process by which we transform the raw essence of our souls through light in extension. This is a holy oil, a representation of the triumph of spirit over matter: purest rose with sacred frankincense.

          WANDERLUST
        • PRAGUE -- Crocus with snowdrop and three lilies.

        From the 2/17 update:

        Black Phoenix Trading Post is now live! Black Phoenix Trading Post is the officially licensed creator and distributor of BPAL tees, perfume jewelry and tchotch. The first tee is up, the Established 1350 tee, but they will be adding more designs in the near future.

        In the Spring, the first in a series of demonic statues will also debut.

        Questions? Please contact the Trading Post's proprietor, Tedwin, at tradingpost [at] papow [dot] net.

        Our Beloved Kate has completed the BPAL Search Engine Scent Family Project, and searching the site for scents by genre, tone, and general feel is now possible. ALL HAIL KATE!

        While Tedwin is busy slaving away in the t-shirt mines, Miss Kennedy, the recently deified Customer Service Goddess and Anthony, the BPAL House Manager and Official Whip Cracker, will be handling all of your customer service needs. Please email them with any concerns, comments, praise or lamentation at answers [at] blackphoenixalchemylab [dot] com.

        BPAL will be vending at Convergence 11, so if you can manage it, please come down and say hullo.

        Upward and onward with the new scents:

          LIMITED EDITION
        • DEAD MAN'S HAND -- To celebrate the opening of the Black Phoenix Trading Post, we are offering this rugged, visceral dark cowboy scent. Now widely considered a portent of doom, the Dead Man’s Hand is a term used in five-card poker when you have “aces over eights” or “aces backed with eights” – the hand allegedly held by Wild Bill Hickock when he was gunned down from behind by Jack McCall in Saloon No. 10, Deadwood. According to the saloon’s proprietor, Hickock was holding all black cards, aces and eights, and it is believed that he was about to draw at the time of his murder. Our Dead Man’s Hand is the quintessential western scent: dusty rawhide and oiled leather.
        • THE LIVING FLAME --
          They pass before me, these Eyes full of light,
          Eyes made magnetic by some angel wise;
          The holy brothers pass before my sight,
          And cast their diamond fires in my dim eyes.

          They keep me from all sin and error grave,
          They set me in the path whence Beauty came;
          They are my servants, and I am their slave,
          And all my soul obeys the living flame.

          Beautiful Eyes that gleam with mystic light
          As candles lighted at full noon; the sun
          Dims not your flame phantastical and bright.

          You sing the dawn; they celebrate life done;
          Marching you chaunt my soul's awakening hymn,
          Stars that no sun has ever made grow dim!

          A luminescent red scent: breathless with passion, flickering with desire, and glowing with ardent and reverential love.

          FUNEREAL OILS
        • HOUSE OF NIGHT --
          And by that light around the dome appear'd
          A mournful garden of autumnal hue,
          Its lately pleasing flowers all drooping stood
          Amidst high weeds that rank in plenty grew.

          The Primrose there, the violet darkly blue,
          Daisies and fair Narcissus ceas'd to rise,
          Gay spotted pinks their charming bloom withdrew.
          And Polyanthus quench'd its thousand dyes.

          No pleasant fruit or blossoms gaily smil'd,
          Nought but unhappy plants or trees were seen,
          The yew, the myrtle, and the church-yard elm,
          The cypress, with its melancholy green.

          There cedars dark, the osier, and the pine,
          Shorn tamarisks, and weeping willows grew,
          The poplar tall, the lotos, and the lime,
          And Pyracantha did her leaves renew.

          The poppy there, companion to repose,
          Display'd her blossoms that began to fall,
          And here the purple amaranthus rose
          With mint strong-scented, for the funeral.

          And here and there with laurel shrubs between
          A tombstone lay, inscrib'd with stains of woe,
          And stanzas sad, throughout the dismal green,
          Lamented for the dead that slept below.

          A sorrowful graveyard bouquet of somber blooms, funereal boughs, dismal green and laden with grief.

          SIN & SALVATION
        • LANGUOR -- An opiate torpor, soporific, trancelike, and sublimely languid. A poet’s morphine dream, a listless journey into a gentle dream and the precipice of intoxicated madness. Paperwhite and black narcissus, three lilies, black poppy and tuberose and a hint of hypnotic opium den haze.

          LOVE POTIONS
        • BRISINGAMEN -- The amber necklace of Freyja, Norse Goddess of Love, Sex, Attraction and Fruitfulness. Her magnificent necklace was bough from four Dwarves [Alfrik, Berling, Dvalin and Grer] at the price of four nights of her passion. When Brisingamen graces your throat, no man can resist your charms. A glittering mantle of rich golden notes: five ambers, soft myrtle and apple blossom, myrtle, and carnation.
        • CASANOVA -- A name synonymous with seduction and licentiousness. From childhood aspirations of seclusion and priesthood came Giacomo Casanova, the self-styled Chevalier de Seingalt, the most notorious debauchee and playboy of all time. His memoirs, Histoire de Ma Vie, enflamed the Enlightenment with scandal and tales of sexual conquest. His restless nature and flair for sensationalizing his adventures drew him into and out of fortune, through numerous careers and affairs, and led him into a brief altercation with the Inquisition and a conviction on the charge of witchcraft. Though he had a life rife with drama and intrigue, he died peacefully at the age of 73, librarian to the Count of Waldstein. Who says librarians can’t be sexy? A rakish blend of leather, anise, lavender, bergamot and amber with tonka, lemon peel and lusty patchouli.
        • HETAIRAE -- The sublimely beautiful, fiercely independent, impeccably cultured, fascinatingly worldly and witty courtesans of ancient Greece. A seductive and dazzling blend of golden honey, fiery patchouli, sweet fig and clove, and a blushing touch of ylang ylang.

          DIABOLUS
        • NOCNITSA -- Also known as Krisky, Plaksy and Gorska Makua, she is a nightmare spirit, the Night Hag of the Woods, who haunts Polish, Russian, Bulgarian and Slovak children during the darkest hours. The only protection against her torments is a circle drawn around a child’s cradle with a knife, or an axe or protective poppet hidden under the floorboards beneath where a child sleeps. Her scent is that of a lightless fir wood, nighttime air, wet forest mosses and upturned earth.

          ARS DRACONIS
        • DRAGON'S HIDE -- Flame-kissed, warm, smooth, and highly protective. Dragon’s blood, leather and a hint of smoke.
        • DRAGON'S MUSK -- Dominant, passionate, devastating. Dragon’s blood and five deep musks.

          WANDERLUST
        • MOSCOW -- A rich, bold blend of imperial rose, carnation, lush jasmine, lily of the valley, dark musk, amber, bergamot and gilded tangerine.
        • SANTO DOMINGO -- An exotic, sultry blend of tobacco leaf, bay rum and heady Caribbean blossoms.
        • SILK ROAD -- A panoply of cultural treasures, spanning the herbs, flowers, oils and balms of the Romans, the Byzantines, the Mediterranean, the Levant, Northern China, Eastern Europe, Iran, the Bulgar-Kypchak, Mesopotamia, the Crimean Peninsula, Anatolia, Antioch, and North Africa.

        New this month, the long-awaited Sephiroth series. Due to the complexity of the blends, and the quality and scarcity of their ingredients, they are only offered in the 10ml size, and, like the Tarot Blends, they are $21.50 each.

          SEPHIROTH
        • KETHER -- The Supreme Crown, Rashith ha-Gilgalim, the Primordial Ether, Primum Mobile, the Source of All, the Origin of Will that radiates 620 pillars of light.
        • CHOKMAH -- The Primordial Point of Creation, Mazloth, Being Out of Nothingness, the Origin of Thought and the source of the 32 Ways of Wisdom.
        • BINAH -- The Womb, Shabbathai, the Uppermost Feminine in the Godhead, Supernal Mother, Divine Sorrow, Supernal Shekhinah, and the source of the 50 Gates of Understanding.
        • CHESED -- Loving Kindness, Tzedek, the Benevolence of God, and the source of the 72 Bridges of Mercy.
        • GEBURAH -- Din, Madim, the Heavenly Court, the Consuming Fire, Divine Wrath, the Force that Contains the Seeds of Sitra Ahra.
        • TIPHARETH -- Divine Beauty, Shemesh, Unity, the Balance of Justice and Mercy.
        • NETZACH -- Victory, Nogah, Eternity, Endurance, God’s Grace.
        • HOD -- Glory and Majesty, Kokab, God’s Judgement.
        • YESOD -- Foundation, Labanah, The Living God, Eternal Life, the Source of the Living Waters.
        • MALKUTH -- The Kingdom, Olam Yesodoth, Shekhinah, God’s Presence in the World, the Throne of Glory.

        The following is a preview of scents that will become available throughout the rest of the year. Please do not request samples until they go live on the site; they are all still in their prototype or conceptual stages and are not available for purchase in any form.

        • 51
        • Aeval
        • Anath
        • Apocalypse
        • Ariel
        • Astarte
        • Avalon
        • Babalon
        • Bé b'lia
        • Belshazaar
        • Berlin
        • Bien Loin D'Ici
        • Boleskine
        • Camlann
        • Ceylon
        • Conjuration
        • Cthulhu
        • Decadence
        • Dragon's Teeth
        • Elegy
        • Ennui
        • Erebos
        • Eurydice
        • Event Horizon
        • The Eyes of Beauty
        • Fascination
        • Freyja
        • Giza
        • Gossamer
        • The Graea
        • The Hanging Garden
        • Havana
        • Hel
        • Hi'iaka
        • Howl
        • Isolde
        • Jinx
        • Koshchei
        • Lemuria
        • Loki
        • Lorenz Attractor
        • Melbourne
        • Miranda
        • Mu
        • Na-maka-o-Kaha'i
        • Nairobi
        • Naked Singularity
        • Oblivion
        • Odin
        • Orlando
        • Orpheus
        • Pandemonium
        • Percival
        • Prague
        • Prospero
        • Rebecca
        • Requiscat
        • Risis
        • Romeo
        • Rosmerta
        • Sanguine Moon
        • Schrodinger's Cat
        • Set
        • Sidhe
        • Sri Lanka
        • Superstition
        • Tannhauser
        • Thanatos
        • Thou Art That
        • Tristam
        • Tsuyu
        • Val Sans Retour
        • Vampyre
        • Vesuvius
        • Vitriol
        • Wasp in a Wig
        • Xanadu
        • Xochiquetzal
        • Yekum
        • The Zorya
        • ... and the Mock Turtle's Lessons

        Also coming later this year... more from the Great Alchemists Collection:

        • Christian Rosenkreutz
        • Demosthenes
        • Hermes Trismegistus
        • Dee
        • Al-Razi
        • Aquinas
        • Caligostro
        • Flamel
        • Geber
        • Magnus
        • Mirabilis
        • Newton
        • Paracelsus
        • Zosimus

        Several limited editions will be coming in sets this year. The first pairings of the year will be...

        • Agony & Ecstasy
        • Cain & Abel

        In addition, we will be working on a bevy of mythological blends, the Arthurian Collection, the Temple Blends series, the Loas, and an influx of Voodoo Blends.

      The Shojo Beat logo is a trademark of VIZ Media, LLC. Used with permission.

      All characters, locations, and scent descriptions within the Stardust series and Neil Gaiman collection are the intellectual property of Neil Gaiman, and are used here with his permission.

      All characters, locations, and scent descriptions within the Good Omens series are the intellectual property of Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman, and are used here with their permission.

      BLACK PHOENIX ALCHEMY LAB, BPAL, IMP'S EARS, A LITTLE LUNACY, CARNAVAL DIABOLIQUE and all oil names are trademarks of the Black Phoenix Partnership. All rights reserved.