During my name change process, I posted, in a Facebook status update, a picture of my temporary ID, showing the inter-webs my newly acquired last name. The lovely miss Daisy, as the perfume community knows her, discreetly noted that my mailing address was visible… and yeah. Oops. I promptly pulled the image from my feed, edited in Photoshop… then re-posted.
Just a few minutes after posting the freshly edited image, I found a comment on the post: “Too late, I’ve already shipped you a set of perfume samples”
From Josh Meyer.
Who the heck is Josh Meyer? I know that I have a few Facebook friends (five-hundred? It’s all perfume friends, I swear!), but most names are familiar, even if the faces are not: we’ve all got common monikers across the community, we swap and share often– enough that we know each other’s civilian names, too. This was a name I didn’t recognize, and the tiny pic beside the name wasn’t familiar, either. But, it looked like a dude playing with ChemEx stuff (fun times!), and clicked on the link to his profile.
Josh Meyer is “Perfumer at Imaginary Authors” and lives in Portland, Oregon.
This tells me one of two things: he’s A), a joker who hopes that his cute comment will get me to do… exactly as I did, which was to check him and his work out… maybe I’d place an order because I’m wowed by how cool the brand looks, be a part of discovering the Hot New Nose. Which is so not me.
Or B), this guy is sending his precious nectars my way, with the thought that this small-time blogger who’s been out of commission for months, might, just might, be inspired by his work. As Micallef, Lutens, Parfums MDCI, and even Puredistance languish on my desk, Imaginary Authors beckons back my muse…
Or none of the above, and maybe Josh Meyer is just a nice guy who saw I had a blog, and hoped I might make a plug for him, since we share the Portland connection.
Well played, Josh Meyer, well played.
There’s a moment where I decide: do I do reconnoissance work, and see what the rest of the fragrant world has begun to say, or do I wait? I wait. Josh Meyer and Imaginary Authors are on my blacklist until enough time has passed to see if he really did send something. Perfume-lovers, I’ll be checking in with you… hopefully sooner than later.
I’m weak-willed. Should I ever have children, help me to keep this a secret.
I can’t help but take a peek. Just a small peek. No reviews, no blog posts, or MUA reviews. Nope. Just the Imaginary Authors Facebook page. Just that one little thing. A sneak peak.
The imagery is bizarre, yet enticing, and the perfume names I glean from the photo in the header sound promising… The Cobra and the Canary. So… it sings sweetly, but has a vicious bite? Yeah, I want to smell what inspired that name (which I hope is how they approached the project, rather than the oft familiar other way around. Let’s talk about reverse engineering perfume brands another time).
It’s Christmas Day, my first Christmas in the history of my universe spent alone. I feel guilty at my contentment. And as I sit here musing, getting caught up on perfume blogs and what’s happening in the fragrant world, I realize that waiting for someone else to reignite my– inspiration– was a mistake. It’s been months and months since I wrote regularly, distracted by the dramatic realities of my life. I spent my energies in real-time with people in my zip code, rather than in my head: the place where all my writing starts.
I was waiting for something external, for something to jostle me back into my happy creative place. But that’s not fair. Plutarch said, “what we achieve inwardly will change outer reality.” Before a perfume could change my mind and restart my imagination, I needed to change my own mind, let my imagination take flight. And then I remembered how to make it happen. By dreaming, remembering, allowing the passion and creativity of my fellow perfume lovers to remind me what it is, and why we do, what we do.
I don’t have anything to say (yet) about the perfumes of Josh Meyer, but something clicked: this new phase of my journey isn’t the same as the last, but I’m ready to set out and explore.