Can777

He stood there every night...every night! Hidden behind the heavy curtains of the circus ring, watching her. He looked high up into the circus dome where she flew like a black hummingbird. He loved her. Infinitely! But she never saw him! He... the white clown. So radiantly beautiful, elegant, aristocratic, intelligent and clever. High on the trapeze, she flew like a black bird. Full of grace and perfection. Bianco's heart was filled with longing. If only he could fly like her. With her? And as he thought about it, he smelled the leather harness of the horses and the predators. Dark, smoky and as familiar as his fenced-in soul. He smelled the cypresses and the earth. On which the circus tent stood. The pine trees and pine needles. He felt them pierce his heart. Every single needle! And as he slowly closed the heavy curtain and his white face disappeared like the full moon behind the dark clouds, dark green feathers fell at his feet. Slightly sweaty and mossy green in color. He picked them up and smelled them. And at that very moment, the tear painted on his cheek became a reality. And so it melted like black and blue ink on blotting paper. It ran over his lips. And so he tasted for the first time how salty longing tastes and hurts...!

Conclusion
Le Cirque Bleu is a tribute to Marc Chagall's painting of the same name. A tribute to art and longing itself. Painted in the darkest colors of black leather, animalistic soft sighs and mossy green tones. All painted in dull, earthy lacquer. If you know Prin, you know and feel how he has tried to capture the art of Marc Chagall in notes. I would say he has succeeded. You can smell humility and even admiration. Le Cirque Bleu is probably one of Prin's quietest works. But it is also one of his most profound creations. A lonely heart beats beneath the make-up. Lonely, quiet and longing! And here it swings,.... like a bird under the trapeze of dreams. And so happy is he who catches a feather. But he will never fly,.... with it!

Have a lovely Easter my dears!
Can

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CRTdQMJ_iXU

And now I'm standing here with bare feet on the old, cold parquet floor of the conservatory. It is lit with dozens of burning candles. Under the soles of my bare feet, I can still feel the vibration of your cello flowing through the floor. Like a tender tickle, they conjure up memories. The ambivalence between laughter and sadness is almost unbearable. The peppery-bitter sweetness of the muscat flows through me. And I can see you drawing the bow in my mind's eye. So soulful, tender and warm, as if it were coated with rose oil and melancholy, earthy patchouli. It makes everything inside me vibrate. Just like... as if I were the sound box and not your cello. The stool in the corner where you once played is now empty, cold and dark. But I can still hear you. The deep, sad bass of the cello is probably immortalized in the woody, sweet parquet? It still flows through me, sad and so infinitely deep! Your need to leave has finally arrived. And so I let you go...! And now I sit here. Filled with sweet and resinous-spicy tears of soft, vulnerable-creamy benzoin and dusty-dry vanilla. All the notes you once played can be heard in this room. I know...only audible to me like the sweet-bitter pain of powdery-soft amber dust. Carried on tenderly soft musk and dusty memories. The notes fly and resound. Still in my head. Filled in endless, beautiful emptiness! Play your cello for me.
Play for me,...forever!

Conclusion
No,...there is no big conclusion! There is no explanation here today. Here it is taken as it is. A perfume like an old, lost melody. Consisting of full-bodied, bitter-sweet notes and deepest melancholy. Here the notes of emotion are so artfully guided and played with such deep sadness. Here the bow is guided on the soul. And so it begins to vibrate and sigh like a cello. This perfume makes extinguished hearts beat. Even if it is only mine! A perfume that opens up wounds and closes them at the same time. Glued and glued with spicy resins and sweet wood dust. Sad as a farewell and beautiful as a reunion. Made to unite happiness and sadness. However it will turn out for everyone? It can only end well. That much can already be said. Beautiful! And for me still one of L'Artisan's deepest and most emotional fragrances.
And probably forever!

Music is the divine way to tell the heart beautiful, poetic things.
It's the same with perfume...!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=--ccXVfIank

Awakening! So infinitely deep under the soil of the forest. The taste of the damp, cool earth still on my tongue and in my mouth. Infused with the sultry dampness of the night's rain. Awakening as if from a deep, traumatic sleep. Writhing and stretching towards the surface. To where the green of the ivy reigns. Breaking through the earth. Freeing yourself to cry out, to breathe. Separated and torn off by green-brown umbilical cords. Embraced by loops of the most poisonous juices. Born to consume everything olfactory! Adorned and ennobled by the darkest beasts of the night. Covered with the secretions of desire. The nests of love crushed and ransacked in the deepest foliage of the ivy. A cradle of lust on damp, sweaty and warm hay. Stained with salty sweat. This is exactly where you will emerge...because this is where you belong! Covered in earthy patchouli and damp, dark soil and the liquids of the forest's lust. This is where your poisonous crown was woven darkest green. This is where you will rise again. In the kingdom of the earthy-green beasts. And when you have finally found peace in the lap of the carnal ivy. They will come to you in torrents and lick your wounds. With their enraptured, tenderly painful tongues. And then from that very moment... you will know. I'm crowned and I'm going to GET CROWNED...!

Conclusion
The fact that this perfume went through at all at Burberry is nothing short of a miracle. Who could or would wear such a perfume? I certainly would,...but I'm also very scrupulous about it Maybe I'm wrong? But I think I know my way around animalic fragrances very well. Too well! But what has been created here is an insanely bizarre symbol of this. What does it smell like? As if all the animals of the forest were embracing you, bowing down and paying their tribute. And this exclusively in bodily fluids! Yes, it sounds off-putting. But only for those who are not up to it. This perfume is only adorned with some leafy greenery of salty-green ivy and gently grounded with dirty-dirty patchouli and a touch of leathery castoreum. Otherwise, it is endlessly overloaded with secretions of civet. And God knows...deeply animalic musk. Salty, sweaty and sultry. Rarely have I encountered perfumes of modern times that go as incredibly deep as this one. Devouring and deeply enveloping. Brutally beautiful and highly (pleasantly) disturbing! It is also disturbing that it was made by Francis Kurkdjian. He, of all people, who ultimately banned his greatest animalic litter from his own house. I will probably never forgive him for letting Absolue Pour Le Soir die. One of the most animalic perfumes he had ever created. It probably no longer fitted into his "also,...so clean concept" of his own label. Shame on Francis!

But despite all that!
Even if he doesn't "soil" his own label, he can still do it with other labels. Like here at Burberry. One of the most conservative labels of its time. Which is pure irony again! He can still do it when it comes to him. And when he does, he becomes a beast! In my opinion, he has almost "overbred" this perfume olfactorically! Or let's say he has created an olfactory Callisto effect. A completely new, monstrous species. So incredibly strong and so incredibly hungry. It could devour everything that had made itself comfortable in the noble niches over time. And this just in passing! I have the feeling that Francis had discharged himself emotionally and professionally without restraint with Ivy Musk. Perhaps too much animalistic, consuming energy had built up under the cleanly polished surface of a Francis Kurkdjian. Suppressing your instincts can't work in the long term! I can't explain it any other way! So he exploited the opportunity mercilessly. And so he poured out and discharged himself unchecked and created Ivy Musk....

Such a sensual, brown-green and humanly dark, poisonous ivy of fur, flesh and blood!

Thank you from the bottom of my heart for the hunt ElAttarine. We will find each other again in the ivy...!

I wish everyone here for 2024.....
Love,fulfillment and the crown that every queen and king here deserves. Rule wisely, happily and justly in 2024 and let me tell you......!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hbY9NQ257Qk

C A N

He was still the little prince. There was just one difference. He was now tall and quite experienced. He had been living and practising the philosophy of his father Antoine de Saint-Exupéry for a very, very long time. He saw love with his heart. And he had also felt it physically. Just once. And she was beautiful! But he had forgotten what she smelled like. It had been too long! What did she smell like again? He knew one thing. She definitely smelled of roses. And so he picked up a rose. Pure, unspecific and almost simply constructed. And then, lost in thought, he went into his laboratory...!

There he sprinkled it with fruity essences of juicy grapefruit. It was the essence of "bitterness". As juicy and bitter as pain. But the pain was not yet deep enough, the little prince thought. So he took the spiciest, darkest pepper he had and sprinkled it on the fruity rose. It was the essence of "pain". And so the vulnerability of the thorns was added. Pungent, spirited, wild and confused!

The rose, or love in this sense, was slowly taking shape. But it was not yet what he had in mind. And so he continued to refine it. He reached for the glass labeled "recklessness". It smelled of narcotic vermouth or cognac. The scent was so strong it clouded his senses. The little prince dosed it very sensitively and gently. The rose now smelled much more lively, lighter and almost weightless. Beautiful,...but not yet what he had in mind!

The "tenderness" was missing. He found it quite far back on the shelf of emotions. It was completely dusty. As if it hadn't been used for a long time. He opened the jar with reverence and caution. It was one of the strongest emotions. He put his hand over his mouth and nose to stop himself from crying. The smell was that beautiful. But the smell still hit him. And tears flowed. The "tenderness" smells of juicy pears dusted with vanilla. So soft and name-giving,...hurtfully tender!

The rose smelled perfect! But love didn't smell like that. It was too smooth and flawless. It wasn't like that. He knew it from his own painful experience! And so he looked for something in his father's laboratory that was under lock and key. It was too wild, unruly, strong and it stank. That much he knew. And it was too disturbing to be left out in the open. So he sneaked into his father Antoine de Saint-Exupéry's bedroom to steal the key to the poison cabinet in which the darkest and most disturbing essence was stored. And he found it...!

And so the little, big prince went to the poison cabinet and opened it. There, covered in iris dust, was a tiny little bottle. It was decorated with a rose-gold emblem that was barely legible under all the delicate dust. He gently and carefully freed the small bottle from it and read what was written on it. In faded red-brown ink it read...BODILITY. It was the state of deepest familiarity and intimacy...

So he took the bottle in his hands with the utmost care and added just half a drop of human musk to his creation of love. Immediately it shriveled and wilted. And it stank wretchedly. But also fascinating! But his experiment, or rather the rose of love, recovered quickly. Very quickly! Everything lifeless was instantly flooded with light. An infinitely deep and wonderful glow flowed through every leaf and every bud, as well as the flower itself. It was like the spark of life. And it began to smell. So infinitely disturbingly beautiful. So aggressive and yet so passive. So tender and yet so deeply hurtful. Yes... that's how love and the rose smelled to him. It was perfect for him. That's how he had felt her once. So irritating, human, vulnerable and floral...!

Then he gently took the still very fragile, weakened and unique rose in his hands and placed it on the windowsill in his bedroom. May it grow. He opened the window so that the light of the stars shone on it and its fragrance touched the lonely stars. And he nourished her with a tear every evening before he fell asleep. So that they would not dry up. And so the little, big prince fell asleep peacefully every evening. Wrapped in a deep, happy, human memory of love itself...!

END

My dear friends, members and readers!
This was my last review and story for this year. And as always, it was a pleasure. I hope you enjoyed it and liked it! For more background, I recommend Profumo's great commentary. Like the little prince, I have been seeing with my heart for a long time. At least that's my opinion! It's not always just about perfumes. I've been given a lot of insight into other people's hearts this year. And I have also warmed the door to mine. And I have done so with honesty! You find yourself here in a wonderful and magical way. Always new. Always unique and beautiful! Here at Parfumo, it often smells like it does now in the bedroom of the little, big prince. It smells of LOVE...you just have to follow the scent. Each of us can send and also receive. But you should also open your window so that it reaches other stars or reaches you. Let's open the windows together so that LOVE can float to the hidden and lonely stars that still live in darkness! I wish everyone here a wonderful Christmas. Embrace what you love. Appreciate what you have and hold it very, very tightly. Love, friendship, partnership. And keep your humanity and charity safe! Everything is so infinitely valuable, fragile, delicate and precious...!

I love you...Merry, happy, contemplative and wonderful Christmas!
Can (the already very old,little,big prince)

And here is the "hope". But you have to hear and see it. I know them only too well! Hear them loudly...!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_U9WURgOtf0

Falling! The time had come. The dark star knew that its time had come. It was preparing for the inevitable. To go out! It had always been the darkest star of all in its galaxy. Just once, just once, he wanted to be as bright as the other stars around him. And so it began to die and slowly fall! Gently at first and then faster and faster. The faster he fell, the brighter it became around him. Light surrounded him. Bright, soft and so infinitely light!

The dark star became brighter and brighter the lower it fell and the light illuminated its surface. No one could ever guess what was hidden and concealed there in the deepest darkness. All the beautiful and dark secrets he kept. But now he showed them. And so the dark star let go and released Zero-G. No Gravity...! Its surface slowly dissolved and all the tons of weight on it began to melt and rise like magma. In peaceful, liberating lightness!

Bright, luminous and as if carried by cosmic gases and aldehydes. So light as a feather, weightless and gentle. Resins slowly began to melt and melt. Disintegrating in a flight of sparks from billions of smoky, glowing fireflies. Soft like the tail of a comet or a stellar rainbow. And so the dark star fell deeper and deeper. And the light surrounding it became more and more creamy-silky and milky-matt. And suddenly it shone brighter than any star in its galaxy. He paused for a brief moment in time as his era passed him by. And as he began to fall again, the stars around him also sang. And they accompanied him with a sweet, animal song as he burned up and melted away in the illuminated, warm, soft brightness...!

Blackout
No one can say exactly what this perfume is made of. No pyramid, no notes, no clue. Blackout takes you with it. It takes you on a journey into the dark. But you sit in the light. You see the heaviness pass by in the shadow of the light. On the border between light and darkness, everything becomes weightless. The load of notes I can smell weighs as much as a ton. But here it weighs as much as a feather. You carry the shadow of light on you. That's how it seems to me! I recognize aldehydes, gases or oxigens. Infinite lightness. Carried on them a massive, heavy load. A hint of black magnolias or orchids. A shadow of light florality. Interspersed with melting resins of balsamic copaiva balsam, tolu balsam or opoponax. Waxy, soft, supple and delicately melting. Everything is briefly on fire. As if you were in the tail of a comet. A flight of sparks from the oldest Ottoman incense burns up for minutes. Woods burn up in the tail. Soaked in juices of creamy borneo oud and milky-soft guaiac wood. What remains is a delicately echoing and sweetish crackle of caramel and delicately bitter patchouli.

Conclusion
These are just my impressions. What Blackout will show you is individual. For some it will be darkness. For some, the light. And for some, a bridge to both. Like for me! Blackout is like a scream in the universe. Not actually audible. But if you are in a vacuum, it is infinitely loud. Because there you hear differently...! Blackout is like the shadow of light on your skin. Dark but completely weightless. Its ingredients may weigh tons, but you can't feel them! If one were to draw comparisons to other perfumes, Blackout would be comparable to Khan by Royal Crown and Chimaera by Terenzi. Both fragrances have a slightly resinous, spicy-sweet basic structure, but are not gourmands. And this also applies to Blackout...!

I go into the dark for you. Are you waiting for me by the stars?
-Allyson Condie-

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=zILmrAJgzSc&pp=ygUZcSBsYXp6YXJ1cyBnb29kYnllIGhvcnNlcw%3D%3D