Celestial Composition

Ritual Perfume? Inside the 'Scents of the Spheres' Project

I've tried half a dozen times to put the perfume thing down, telling myself fragrance-making is one project too many.

It's no use. Once the bug has bit, you become one of them: a member of the international brotherhood of scent-hunters. Seekers on the trail of the exquisite.

Over the last couple years I’ve met or been in contact with orris enthusiasts in Uzbekistan and oud distillers in India, while a Colombian perfumer brother living in Germany even put me in touch with a licensed musk deer hunter in Siberia. Across this loose network all that’s shared is a taste for olfactory beauty—and, perhaps, a certain proneness to obsession.

I blame my muse. Once she decides she likes this game, you're as good as gone.

It may be better not to start, to paraphrase Chogyam Trungpa on the perils of the spiritual path: but once you start, it’s better to keep going.

Ah, there are worse habits than smelling good.

But unlike some fragrance-minded folk, I’m not in it for scents as purely aesthetic objects. I appreciate beauty for its own sake, but I’m equally interested in the ways it affects us, mind and body and (perhaps especially) soul.

Such impact isn’t such a far-fetched idea, nor is it a new one, given perfumery’s overlap with medicine over the millennia, or given the field of aromatherapy, or simply given the experience of anyone who’s ever inhaled the scent of wild jasmine—not to mention agarwood, which is a whole ‘nother level of state-shifting. (The subject of agarwood is a rabbit hole I won’t go down here, but those whose curiosity is piqued by this most fascinating and prized of scent materials might check out this extended meditation on the subject.)

Exploring scent's effects on mood and state of mind was a major pandemic preoccupation of mine, one that resulted in Sattva Incense (a line that’s currently on hold pending some help in the production and shipping departments).

All that time spent around natural aromatics has sparked a realization or two. In particular, I’ve gotten the distinct sense that incense or sacred smoke is a missing piece of the puzzle for many modern people, a basic technology we’ve largely lost, much to our detriment in terms of mental and spiritual health.

At the risk of over-generalizing, I’ve come to see people who vaporize rocks in a glass pipe as acting out a (mostly destructive) version of the impulse toward communion with the sacred—a communion that, for tens of thousands of years, has been aided by the fragrant, gently state-altering smoke of frankincense, copal, agarwood and the like. This is part of our ancestral memory. Our noses and nervous systems, our very hearts, are hungry for the input of our aromatic allies.

Like incense, perfume too has a sacred dimension, or several. There’s the sensual-erotic use, and the act of anointing in blessing or in healing—all beautiful and rich topics.

But what brings me to put fingers to keys today is another dimension still. It connects to the idea introduced in the last post, Saturdays with Kronos, of “upaya” or remedies for the difficult planets in one’s birth chart. As discussed in that article, the age-old set of upaya practices includes ritual (mantra, prayer, puja), austerity (fasting) or acts of service aimed at particularly troublesome or weak planets, those unavoidable gods of our lives.

I love this whole idea of upaya, I must admit. It appeals to me on several levels, from the abstract and aesthetic to the pragmatic. Pragmatic, because the astrologically-derived strategies of upaya can be as effective as any good ritual technology—and that’s saying quite a lot.

Now gentle reader I’d like to pause a moment, digressing slightly, amidst this world obsessed with the gross, in order to praise the subtle.

What’s so great about the subtle, a term the thesaurus links with such words as devious or trifling? The more subtle something is, the more deeply it can penetrate, and the more pervasive and influential it can be.

Subtler than actions are words, subtler than words are thoughts. Yet thoughts turn to words, and words become actions. Put differently, qi (energy or pattern) precedes form. Therefore if we’re interested in skillful means, or even just in efficiency, we should be focusing on the subtlest levels of reality with which we can reliably (and skillfully and reasonably safely) interface. It’s in this capacity as a supremely subtle art that ritual is so brilliant at effecting change.

To be skilled in the arts of ritual is to have access, if only fleetingly and partially, to the blueprints of existence, not just the usual brick and mortar. Operating upstream, in the subtle, one stroke of the pencil is worth tons of rebar and cement.

To bring this long preamble around to the project at hand: What’s emerging, with one eye to the efficacious potential of ritual and the other to the power of scent, is to compose upaya perfumes: magic fragrances, if you like. Not only be a tribute to the planets, they should also serve as remedies in that upaya sense of the word. They’ll be ephemeral olfactory jewels that can modulate the effects of the planets in somewhat the way prisms and lenses do to light—or more to the point, in somewhat the manner of the literal gemstones that Jyotishis prescribe to sometimes-dramatic effect.

Mind you, in the tradition we’re speaking of, the planets are not just symbols or even archetypes, but living energies--deities--who are constantly shaping our lives through bringing us the (not always delicious) fruits of past actions, i.e. karma. Because we can’t opt out of relationship with these planetary gods, we may as well learn to get along. To encourage the blessings each one brings and mitigate the difficulties.

And we may as well smell damn good in the process.

Now, this is not a sales platform; I want to make that clear before moving onto descriptions of the scents themselves. Those interested in learning more, becoming a patron of the project or pre-ordering perfume are warmly welcome to email jedwardian@gmail.com and I’ll keep you posted as the project develops.

Now to geek out.

The pilot for this project is a perfume called Emerald Musk (a.k.a. Musk Mercurial), which I composed last year. Like its namesake planet, the fragrance is light on its feet, stimulating and a little mischievous; it has an evanescent pale-green piercing note of pine that goes straight to the forebrain. Someone could have an interesting time measuring the effects of this perfume on cognition, memory and learning. I'm too busy walking around with my wrist stuck to my face, inhaling...ahhhh.

Mercury Qualities: Wit, Playfulness, Nimbleness, Speed

Selected notes: Piñon Pine, Clary Sage, Green Hojari frankincense

The Mars fragrance, called Smolder, is all smoke and leather, musk and tobacco. In a medieval past that never was, this is what you would anoint your armor with before going into battle. It's undeniably, archetypally masculine, yet with a softness in the dry-down, the smoke and clamor giving way to the intimacy of old leather, a faint lingering coffee sweetness.

Mars Qualities: Boldness, Will, Strength, Drive, Heat

Selected notes: Bassy oud, coffee, leather, cedarwood

I'm a couple of drafts into the Sun scent, an explosion of amber, resins and citrus. This is a perfume that blazes in a thousand hues of yellow-orange, like an orange orchard in full bloom gone supernova.

Sun Qualities: Radiance, Confidence, Majesty, Warmth, Extroversion

Selected notes: Papyrifera Frankincense, Neroli, Palo Santo, Saffron

The inspiration for the Moon perfume landed the other night around the full moon, after I watched a classic lunar-themed movie (and upaya in its own right), Moonstruck (that’s right, the 80’s classic with Cher and Nicolas Cage). Moon Juice will be as luscious and creamy as spheres of mozzarella di bufala on a Neapolitan pie. A white pie, in this case, with sandalwood, waxy white flowers and a lick of salty ambergris. The result should be a nourishing balm for the senses and the soul.

Full Moon Qualities: Relaxation, Juiciness, Softness, Contentment

Selected notes: Sandalwood, White flowers, Ambergris

Naturally Jupiter's perfume will be pure, buttery, rich and delectable, as befits this gourmand guru of the planets. A big, generous, festive fruit-laced fragrance, all apricots and osmanthus, delicately spiced with saffron, cardamom...a sattvic feast of a scent.

Jupiter Qualities: Generosity, Purity, Benevolence, Abundance, Expansion

Selected Notes: Apricot, Osmanthus, Sandal, Buttery Oud

Venus is starting to stir in her sultry way, and she desires the rarest, most alluring, precious materials. These include some flowers absolutes I've never had a chance to work with before. I’m curious to see what comes together, as her scent can only be utterly refined, beguiling and sexy to the point of intoxicating.

Venus Qualities: Grace, Sensuality, Seduction, Refinement

Selected Notes: Light Musk, Pale Oud, Jasmine and Exotic Florals

As for Saturn, with characteristic slowness he is starting to make his wishes felt. This will be an interesting challenge: to bring out the beautiful side of this under-appreciated, ascetic planet. I'll be investing in some very well-aged, dark and bass-heavy materials here for the sake of a stripped down and austere beauty with some serious staying power.

Saturn Qualities: Discipline, Patience, Focus, Maturity

Selected Notes: 30 yr old Malaysian Oud, Dark Patchouli, TBD

Last but not least, though she’s not a graha in the astrological sense, there'll have to be a scent for Earth, the most important planet of all. Let's not take her for granted, folks. This scent will be earthy (naturally), rich and pulsing with vibrant life!

Earth Qualities: Nourishment, Animal Vitality, Solidity

Possible Notes: Clay, Rain, Jungle, Musk, Spice