Liquides Imaginaires

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Les Eaux Sanguines

Bloody Wood

This scent strays very far from the standard perfume stand fare. It definitely feels almost empowering to wear, and is deep in a hard to describe way. I find it excellent, though perhaps the spice in it is just a very small amount on the christmas-y side. Don't let that stop you from trying it, but it is enough that it would feel deeply incongruous in too tropical or light a context. I can't say I detected the cherries, but I can definitely see the wine and oak barrel descriptions. Pro-tip: it seems to last longer when sprayed into your hair (though I find it mixes into a slightly wetter scent when put on the skin).

Rhyme impure rhymes // and search for love. // First in glass's wine, // then in what would then remain. // The warm floorboards, // polished from sandalwood. // Tears that fell upon them, // seized by rose red. // Knocking at the pane, // in a fireplace duet, // wet-cold raindrops. // Alone in bed again. // Time shows the eleventh hour, // thoughts stretched wide awake. // Will I find the other half // for which my heart yearns? ---- Bloody Wood was not the first perfume I ever used. But it was the first that gripped me. The first perfume for which I spent a lot - though what is "a lot" in this class - of money on a bottle. The opening with the head of rose and white wine yeast is so delicate and seems as fragile as the opening of a love letter. The writing perhaps simultaneously too cursive and unsteady but full of emotion. An opening that does not do justice to the term "top" note. Nothing about it is reason, everything is feeling. Accordingly, we glide quickly into the heart, where red wine and raspberry and cherry beat, although the red wine clearly dominates. Whoever looks for clear cherry and raspberry notes... I could not find them here. But it would also be inappropriately sweet for this fragrance, which is just as much at home in melancholy as in longing. This is also underlined by the base, an opulent orchestra of wood notes that drift beautifully into the smoky. The poet's study is still warm, but the fire is only a glimmer. Bloody Wood is breathtaking whenever I wear it. The fact that it is rather intimate fits very well; this fragrance must not have a brutal sillage. Love cannot be forced, but must be invited. Unfortunately, it doesn't last as long as it deserves. Long enough if you put it on for the evening, but it doesn't make it through a day. But it proves that there is a place, must be a place, for the special moments. The lonely ones, in which one is seized by inspiration, possessed, and entirely with oneself. The shared ones, in which loudness would be as inappropriate as it is destructive. Not a fragrance for the whole world, but for one's own world.

The wine cork lands in the bouquet of violets. Lively grapes quickly lose out to strong floral dizziness, but the roses in the wooden barrel remain as a pleasant memory.