Replica: Flower Market

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Surprisingly green, Flower Market (Maison Margiela 2012) is a treat as it wafts gently about.  Fresh Freesia and a pleasing tuberose and rose bloom from start to finish.  And with oakmoss at the base Flower Market has quite a vintage feeling in presentation.  I imagine this is the sort of scent that could be worn in the colder months to bring cheer or the warmer months for its green crisp beauty…

Noses: Jacques Cavallier and Marie Salamagne.

Top notes: green leaves and freesia.  Middle notes: Rose de Mai, tuberose, Egyptian jasmine, and jasmine sambac.  Base notes: oakmoss, cedar and peach.


(I was a bit distracted last night watching the DNC Convention so this entry will be updated and edited Friday afternoon.   Sorry!)

First, a bit of self-reflection:

Possibility has always beguiled me…  I’m the sort of person who sees the beauty of something, in someone or sometimes I’ve seen a truly beautiful man and been swept away in a passionate frenzy of excitement.  But, many who know me would never guess at this part of my soul because my passions always become very tempered and restrained by my logic and a general, vague sense of reserve that shades everything I do.   And, furthermore and most importantly I’m the sort of person who doesn’t like to hurt people or cause too many problems so the daring, sensitive wildness that resides in me bubbles beneath.

On the surface I am dominated by worry for others, “what’s best” for everyone and a sincere reverence for goodness rooted in my faith – often letting my own desires or dreams intentionally wither if I think they would cause too much harm or be too much of a risk.   I want first and foremost to be a good, strong, brave, and loving person.  And, as I write that I can hear anyone reading this who came from my the theological upbringing of my childhood saying, “ahh but to be good isn’t enough.”  Yes…  I know what you mean, but…  but why not aim to be good?!   Anyway…

Possibility…  *sigh*

Every once and a while the waters in my soul, despite all my surface concerns, which are just as much a part of me as anything, are stirred.  And I feel overwhelmed and I love every minute of it…

Sometimes this has happened when, as I said, I’ve become a bit smitten by a particular man…  Is he the one?   The one man who I’ve wanted to meet since I knew romance existed?   Actually it happens most often, and in its most poignant form on those occasions…  It’s the possibility of something gorgeous being real – in the flesh.   Just a glint of brilliant light at first…

But I have felt it too, to a slightly lesser degree, when I’ve sat down to work on the novel I’m trying to finish, or since I was a little girl when I’ve watched or been involved in politics.  These last two weeks, this week in particular, have been a reminder of my core.  In many ways…

I find myself thinking through all of my life decisions and wondering…   I keep contemplating mistakes, pains and the things I’ve lost over the years since my childhood.   I miss those days when I used to sit in front of the television for hours waiting for voting returns with baited breath.  Or, I recall the times I would tell people my future plans to be “in politics.”  Between the first election I remember analyzing at age four to the moment I almost had a good many opportunities to really “get somewhere” and lost them…  I wonder.  What happened? Did I give up?  I think I did…  I think I did…  But why?!

Cynicism.  I know that’s what did me in in one way or another…

So yes, of course, my virtues are not the enemy of the fire in my heart.  Instead, those principles guide me and send me right into the arms of real beauty, but cynicism…  rooted in pain…  rooted in loss…and in reality, that’s my biggest foe.

I hope in my assessments of the past, present and future I am able to see God, real goodness and wild, stunning zeal guide me.  And I sincerely hope I am able to avoid the deathly grips of cynicism that I’m sure are just waiting for any sort of darkness or reminder of past pains to make their pull…

I can’t remake the past, but I can still hope for a more beautiful future…  And I can still try to be myself as much as possible.   Until I’m dead there’s always a possibility



 

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