Perfumer H Amber Incense
Perfumer H Amber.
I’ll level with you. Lit incense and I are not the best of friends.
Always a bad reaction. Headaches, slight feeling of nausea, a complete bodily reaction.
So, when a few months back, over a rather nice pot of tea, Lyn Harris told me about her new incense project, I was a little wary.
I expressed my concerns and received a highly logical response about why I had previously suffered and why this was different.
Which is why, in the spirit of friendship and because Perfumer H is really, the best, a couple of weeks ago following its arrival from Japan I popped in to Perfumer H and purchased a box and one of the hand blown holders – a must purchase, work of art in its own right.
Packaged beautifully in a grey foil stamped box with a raspberry gelato sleeve. The incense sticks wrapped in that impossibly chic, slightly mottled paper Perfumer H use for everything.
The funny thing is, that despite the logical response, I was convinced that I’d still have the same reaction. Thankfully, although slightly annoyingly, I’ve been proved wrong.
Following an extensive research period, I can confirm, that I do not feel any of my previous symptoms.
Now, this is far removed from the incense you know and rightly dislike. There are no traces of that one from midnight mass, nor that cloying one, the cover-up of burned medicinal substances.
So match placed between thumb and forefinger, quick strike, and via the magic of ignition flame, introduce to incense already stood proud in holder. Watching as the stick slowly and pleasingly starts to take and smoulder seductively.
Step back, walk away or sit down and the smoke snakes up and outwards, leaving you with the comforting smell of what I guess is best described as Amber, or to be more precise Amber enhanced with scent galacticos; sandalwood, patchouli, benjoin resin and sweet musks.
Hand rolled by one of Kyoto’s few traditional incense makers, providers of incense to temples and monasteries, there are none of the sweetly scented chemical nasties that normally affect me so.
In fact, whilst my version of meditation is staring into the mid distance waiting for the kettle to boil, I find myself calmed when burning this, it just makes me smile. I’d like to walk round in a bubble of Amber, shrugging off the stresses of Christmas present buying – Mum’s are the worst btw, although it’ll take mine all of 90 seconds to call and suggest that’s not the case.
The only problem, I’ve burned the lot. I need another box already, but, what price happiness?