It smells like magic...

I am preparing the concentrate of my new perfume to be launched; and on a foggy night in the middle of September, suddenly it is Christmas already.


The raw materials are sacred again. I use every pipette as if they were made from diamonds. I smell carefully each one before throwing it delicately to the bin next to me. Slowly I am getting high from all the beautiful olfactory impulses, I am thinking maybe a few grams of cocaine could have the same effect.  Even my perfume organ seems different, it looks more rustic today, like an great emperor with a lot of personality. I wouldn't exclude the possibility that it has magical abilities, something like that closet to Narnia or a powerful pendent.

Once someone told me that contrary to romantic expectations, most people will not be continuously in love with their chosen partners. In real life, it is more like you fall in love with the 'One' again again and again. This is what's happening with me tonight. I fell in love with perfumery for the second time: It is champagne and rose once again, instead of dirty dishes and daily routine.

I love my job. I love being a perfumer. I love being surrounded with scents so noble, so rare, so expensive. I enjoy the complete serenity of the moment. I am submissive and humble towards the great art of perfumery. I feel grateful. I am amazed by my own creativity, and how my work turned out to be so enchanting, intoxicating and radiantly erotic.