Our fume master (that’s a technical term) David Seth Moltz employs the rarest, finest, and aged materials from his private collection. Drops are released when the time is right.
Tiny tendrils suckle honey summer sunshine. Quarter water’s alien green glows by disorganized baseball games. The corner garden blazeth on.
A strange and unusual aura of ether, ghostly old pages, magic chalk, & spectral fumes dosed with funerary incense.
Sandy bracts bud on the high road to Taos. Desert paintbrush plant holds silent scent of gardenia built of hyacinth heads coloring vast vistas of New Mexican rock, shrub and scree.
Brooklyn comes alive in spring. Bold yellow magnolia pops from sidewalks, flowering weeds, graffiti near cherry trees in tiny parks with black iron gates.
Reserve aged patchouli CO2 overdosed with a bleeding heart of rare osmanthus, orris root, and spiced opoponax.
Novel molecules flower through industrial grit as New York City forms.
Brooklyn in spring where vivid flower bushes bloom in concrete cracks.
12 ounces of the finest Bulgarian Rose Absolute Kazanlak in a narcotic base of pure musk and amber.
Sunscreen, salt-on-skin, ocean airs on the coast of Queens where privet hedge flowers blaze by pastel condos. Up on the rewf!