MANA

It starts with the sulphuric pungency of mud. The drenched-earth scent of torrential rain, of bursting rivers and overflowing lakes, of drowned lands caught in the maelstrom of primeval storms and tidal floods. The ground – Mitti attar, aged Ruh Khus, Sumatran Patchouli, Mentawai oudh and Haitian vetiver.

Humidity hangs in the air; a tempestuous, monsoonal heat that activates a frenzy of growth… a rainbow of new life. And a million flowers bloom in the shimmering landscape.

Ylang Ylang, Champaca, Pink Lotus, Tuberose and Jasmine (Grandiflora, Sambac and Auriculatum).

Scarlet bursts through the clouds, casting a sequinned veil of wonder across the glistening land as day fades to night. The hill fires touch the sky, their golden sparks of radiance rise to meet the stars.

Italian Bergamot, Japanese Yuzu, Pink Peppercorn, Labdanum, Birch tar, Ambrette Seed, Sandalwood (Santalum Album and Spicatum).

The cycle begins again.

Life. Nature. Power.

* For culturally respectful purposes, in relation to creating a perfume named MANA, (a concept held as sacred within Polynesian culture) I acknowledge that I received my whakapapa from my Aunties and Great Aunties – dating back many generations. My mother and her family are Norfolk Islanders. My great grandmother was a Nga Puhi woman from New Zealand/Hokianga. Her husband, my great grandfather was a Norfolk Islander, descended from Pitcairn Islanders born of Tahitian women and British sailors who traveled there on HMS The Bounty.