Hazy Rose
THE QUEEN WEARS BLACK
At daybreak, when the dawn begins to dissipate the darkness and the heat of the sun gradually builds up, the silhouette of a wild rose stands out against the light. The dew on its petals evaporates under the warm rays of the sun and an aura is created around it that shifts capriciously in the morning breeze.
The curiosity that goes with my profession drives me to move closer and smell this queen of flowers as she awakes, just when her scent is unique. My instinct guides me to the very instant when the heart of the queen opens up, so that I can make my way in through the dew and the shadows to steal away the essence of her being.
East and West look each other in the eyes from start to finish in this radical composition. The contrast of ginger and saffron breaks in the midst of the trial of strength between cedar and the most eastern of roses. The “blood” of styrax washes over Yugoslav moss, and comes to rest among a hundred musks.