Little Song

A song that becomes sound in silence and perfume

Little Song recounts the metamorphosis of time, which passes inexorably through our lives. A perfume that speaks of my solitude and my intimate sensation of time passing and changing things. Little Song speaks of the past. How can I describe the passing of time? How can I find the scent of metamorphosis? In the initial vibration of its citrus and spicy notes, I hear hope. Little Song is a small song repeated endlessly, it is a cup of coffee, left alone on my study table, the scent of its dregs, intense, aromatic, from there, I began to remember. Little Song is a bouquet of roses held in my hand. I searched for the depths of the Rose, I searched for the poetry of its petals, which slowly dried, a deep and dusty feeling. Little Song is a daily ritual, the cigarette now burned between the fingers, the pungent tobacco drawing the gaze far away, the pages of Kafka repeated by heart. A scent of earth and smoke, of roots and resins. Finally, even time has its scent. I keep writing this little song endlessly, like a lullaby. Little song is a narrow space, a deep connection to life, to the past. A scent that stirs the heart, that reaches the depths of the human soul.

[Little song was thought, created and arranged, listening in each of these phases to the albums: Murder ballads and Skeleton tree by Nick Cave and the bad seeds]

Olfactory family: WOODY

Facet: Chypre, Gourmand, Citrus 

Composition: Coffee, Rose, Tobacco