My first thought on trying Maitre Parfumeur et Gantier’s Route Du Vetiver, one Autumn fine day in London, was
‘I have been interred.’
A first impression – cavernous; deep – of dark, loamy soil; a grasping clutch of webbed, fibrous roots surrounding, dragging you further beneath, down, rapidly, unwillingly, right into the ground….
Down, down, we go, our last breaths leaving us..
Subsumed; drawn in.
Yet, there is serenity down here in this cool, worm-pured earth; we relent and acquiesce, surrender to our fate; and slowly, the grotesque wonder of our predicament begins…
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