Among many other things I also appreciate cultural aspects very much.
So, for example, I also like visiting interesting exhibitions or museums, as well as ...churches! ... Yes, also churches or mosques, etc. belong to it!
The older and bigger they get, the more reverence and respect they instill in me - respect for the architecture, the early architects and people who came up with all this and also for those who built them up to dizzying heights and decorated them with paintings and decorations down to the last detail. Again and again I am confronted with the question of how many people may have already been here, in which respective times, why and on what occasion they came, in all the many past years and centuries. The often perceptible standing air sometimes even contributes to the assumption that they are still all somehow around me.
I see churches in principle as places of peace, of silence. They have a natural coolness at any time of the year, no bright light, often there is a discreet scent of incense in the air. Mental relaxation pure actually, opportunities for a brief pause and become one with yourself.
Izia" totally gets me into this atmosphere, right from the first test.
Each time with the application I feel right away-teleported away with every first breeze that is influenced by Izia.
At the beginning I feel pure "frankincense", as if an altar boy, swiveling the corresponding vessel, is standing right next to me. The intensity lasts for the first moments, but then it diminishes more and more, as if I were moving away from the place of the ceremonial action into outer spheres, but not completely leaving it.
After the ceremony I leave the church and when I step outside it is bright summer and sunshine, and I do not step onto the street, but into a lemon grove under permanent light swirls of air. Warm, not hot, but more intense the further I go in. The incense accompanies me as if it had still got stuck in the clothes, had become part of them.
The further the path leads me, the sun leans towards the horizon and I stop, because something changes. The scent of lemons recedes and I think I can perceive roses. I'm looking for it, with my nose on my wrist, are they really roses? I think so and I'll go further, just a few steps at first. And soon the moment becomes increasingly magical, right here where I want to stay for a long time, right on the border where rose and citrus balance each other out, it becomes indifferent for me between the two.
Where should I move on, one more step back again, or still forward - or maybe to the side, but where, left or right?!
How trapped, unmoved, I suddenly perceive a slight sweetness, is rather flowery or somehow vanilla-like, but where does she want to come from?
I want to sit down on the ground and touch everything around me, to smell, to sniff what exactly gives me these moments. I don't want to leave either, absolutely not, this is where I belong, right now. I turn around again, the church and the incense, puffs of it are still there.
The sun has long since fallen below the horizon and yet it still warms me, because the scent of roses is beginning to take hold of the situation, the fresh lemon scent is giving way more and more.
"Abaq" - my beloved Abaq, is that you?! No, why should I?
It gets cooler and the wind freshens up a bit. Again and again I put my wrist to my nose. The magical moment from earlier seems to be over, but I don't necessarily miss it. Everything now suddenly appears more set, more earthy, is soothing, enveloped in sweet warmth, surrounded by peace, silence and serenity.
Now I would like to go home and let this wonderful summer day experience end there, exactly as I feel it now. And even now everything seems to be still there, somehow swinging along - even because some hours have passed in the meantime.