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  Blue Moon Perfume Oil

  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…

  Lavender and almond oil for clarity and relaxation…

  Orchid and purple sage for complexity, wisdom and noscere…

   

  …with a potent lunar-charged blend of exquisite woods, moonflower, Madagascan ylang ylang, Florentine iris, starry bergamot, elemi, green tea absolute, palmarosa, cucumber, Clary sage, lettuce leaf, melilot trefoils, and wood aloes.

  Art by Drew Rausch!

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  Alien/Siren Perfume Oil

  “Women are defined from the outside, in terms of how they seem to men, rather than from the inside, as thinking, feeling subjects. They are not fellow people, not even a different or worse variety of person, but simply the opposite of men, and hence, the opposite of human.

  Which leads to the question of how you can have sex with something that isn’t human. In many myths, heterosexuality is portrayed as a kind of legalized bestiality, and attractive women are alluring, predatory, half-human monsters: fairy wives, snake-women, others whose beauty is a thin veneer over their dangerous and alien psyches.”

  A sebaceous, slick reptilian perfume: green and black vegetal musks, kelp, sea salt, blackened opoponax, violet leaf, Siamese red benzoin, davana, squid ink, and ambergris accord.

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  Cat Stealing a Fish Perfume Oil

  Salty driftwood, seafoam ambergris, white vetiver, marine lichen, and ocean spray.
  

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  Oak Moon 2023 Perfume Oil

  The century oak, rugged and gaunt,
  Holds high to-day, as he was wont
  A hundred years ago, his head,
  Hoary with snows that have vanished,
  Defiant and grim to the wind’s wild taunt.
  The hooting owl finds here a haunt,
  And feathered choristers now chaunt
  As when the century’s dawn made red
  The century oak.

   

  No season’s coil his heart can daunt;
  Processive years their changes vaunt,
  But, constant till the line have fled
  And mouldered in oblivion’s bed,
  He holds his own, rugged and gaunt, –
  The century oak.
  – Harvey Carson Grumbine

   

  Oak bark, tree sap, wild acorns, and a touch of honey.

   

  Art by Drew Rausch!

  Out of Stock