A Logophile’s Ludic Musings: T

As an unrepentant logophile (lover of words), I’ve assembled a list of unusual, obscure, or simply charming-to-me words. Ludic is defined as “playful, in an aimless way,” and that’s my plan for approaching this a-to-z challenge—keeping my feet on the joy trail and meandering wherever the daily word takes me.

T is for…

Terroir – the combination of environmental factors including soil, climate, and sunlight that gives crops their distinctive character.

The concept of terroir exists in many cultures, but it is most often associated with wine and the grapes from which it is made. To a lesser extent, it is discussed in relation to teas. However, it is equally important and interesting in the context of natural botanical perfumery.

Nearly all fragrances on the market are made with synthetic materials, primarily created with the use of petrochemicals. But that’s not true for the natural botanical perfumer, whose raw materials consist of essential oils, absolutes, and concretes – all from actual plant material, including flowers, leaves, stems, fruit, bark, roots, and resins. The location where a flower, plant, or tree is grown can make a significant difference in its scent. It’s extraordinary how different vetivers can smell, and lavenders, and frankincense, and countless other botanicals, depending on where they are grown. For the natural perfumer, it’s one of the most exciting parts of creation, choosing raw materials from different regions and exploring the results of various combinations. It’s magical!

The nose knows it’s the scenter of your face.

Humans can detect at least one trillion different smells. Amazing, isn’t it?!  It’s also true that our olfactory palettes are forged by many things, including particularities and peculiarities of our noses, personal preferences, and even early childhood memories. We all experience scents slightly differently, based on a combination of individual sensitivities.

As an aromatherapist and natural botanical perfumer, scent is very important to me. Maybe I’m saying that backwards. I suspect the truth is that I became an aromatherapist and perfumer BECAUSE I have such a great love of fragrance.

Fragrance can be complex both aromatically and, in the feelings, memories, and thoughts it evokes. It is my belief that the natural world has so much to teach us and we should listen carefully. What I really love about fragrance is its ability to transport; to delight; to deepen; to lighten.

The sense of smell is closely linked with memory, probably more so than any of our other senses.  As Lewis Thomas so cogently puts it:

“The act of smelling something, anything, is remarkably like the act of thinking. Immediately at the moment of perception, you can feel the mind going to work, sending the odor around from place to place, setting off complex repertories through the brain, polling one center after another for signs of recognition, for old memories and old connection.”    

I have a storehouse of childhood scent memories, including my grandmother’s flowers, my mother’s smoking, special packets of bath salts I begged for every birthday, scented with lily of the valley, gardenia, and honeysuckle. The scent of my brother’s well-worn leather baseball mitt, homemade cinnamon rolls, the pungent acrid smell of bleach. So many scents – and I have no doubt you have a million of your own to call up from your childhood.

I’m in love with this Rumi quote:

“The morning wind spreads its fresh smell.
We must get up and take that in,
that wind that lets us live.
Breathe before it’s gone.”

That’s the admonition I take to heart, and hope to live every day.

Often when I’m working with perfumes and oils, I muse about the concept of ineffability – that which is incapable of being expressed or described in words.  I think a lot about Rumi’s work and other mystics who sought to express the inexpressible.  Rumi often taught that poetic language was like scent that can only provide a hint of the Divine. I feel like I’m always reaching into that – poetry, scent, and the Divine are beautifully mixed together for me.

I also appreciate the charming Chinese proverb:

“A bit of fragrance always clings to the hand that gives roses.”

I certainly like the idea of that.  In the giving much is received as well.  As a reminder I have this little card up in my studio.  I scented the paper with a beautiful Bulgarian rose essential oil and the hieroglyphics are my name Deborah.

In my training both as an aromatherapist and a natural perfumer, keeping journals was (and still is) a critical, and fun, part of the work.   Here’s a peek at the page in one of my early journals where I was beginning my exploration of Helichrysum.

My favorite part of the page is the white strip under the name at the top right.   That’s a fragrance test strip.  They’re used to dip into the essential oil and you sniff the strip rather than from the bottle.  They’re particularly helpful when you’re evaluating blends because you want to be able to see how a fragrance develops over time.  The first top note isn’t the whole story.  Test strips are also a good way to simply train your nose as well, and I love keeping them on journal pages where I can see a photo and catch a hint of scent as well.

Another training tool, and fun continued practice, is to keep a scent diary, listing the scents of the day.  For a while I used a fabulous stash of vintage library card stock. You can see an example of the card near the top of this post.

Now what about you? What beauty are you allowing yourself to breathe in? Have a favorite natural fragrance? Familiar with the concept of terroir?  Do tell – you know I love to hear.