Tuesday, June 8, 2010

Is there really such thing as coincidence?

By coincidence I spent most of the spring admiring Mimosa trees. I watched the hills of Grasse turning into a soft yellow carpet from my window. Everyday I would take my car and be touched and amazed at the same time how wonderfully fragile these flowers are.

By coincidence the master perfumer of a leading perfumer creating company shared his secret with me on how to create a head space mimosa. He said, it took him 40 years to find out what is the key characteristic of a mimosa soliflore. Without the scent of an other flower, the mimosa compositions stay "mute"! It only comes to alive when this other flower accord is added to the creation.

By coincidence I still remember one specific mimosa flower I smelled a few months ago. We were invited to a party with my boyfriend, and by the time we have left, it was raining cats and dogs. My boyfriend run to take the car so that I can just jump in without getting soaked to my skin. While he was getting to the car, from distance I saw a small mimosa tree in the garden. It was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, the flowers were gloriously full! Not too ripe, not too young, just perfect! There is maybe one day in the mimosa blooming season when the blooming is to the fullest, but fermentation haven't stared yet. It was that day. I mean night. I needed to smell it! I walked to the tree, slowly despite of the heavy rain, I didn't want to ruin this olfactive dessert by being too greedy. I first touched the beautiful creation, and than sniffed. It smelled like powdery heaven! Despite the famous fragility of the mimosa, the little flowers didn't get destroyed by the pouring rain. On the contrary, rain gave a special aura to them. It just added an amazing aquatic contradiction to the usual dryness of the mimosa, making me wanting to eat the whole tree. With only a little bit of exaggeration, if I die that moment, I could have been dying happily.
My boyfriend arrived with the car and murmured something like no more making efforts to save me from mud and rain. But I didn't hear it, neither did I pay attention, because I was busy being in love with the mimosa tree now. I wanted to wave her goodbye while driving away, and I definitely lived the "separation" so bad as a divorce after a decade of living together. She was the perfect mimosa! And I wish I could made a photo or took a little jar and somehow put the surrounding air above the flowers into the jar to conserve its fragrance for the eternity. Since than, I often thought of how to recreate that moving fragility with that special humid dryness.

By coincidence my first client asked specifically for a mimosa soliflore.

No comments:

Post a Comment