in the heart of winter

view from above of a dark wooden table with various marble jars and display shelves filled with vintage perfume balm cases, a brass tray with a bouquet of carnations, a white wall behind and light coming in the window from the right
a view of a bright and airy studio space with 3 large windows, a blue couch in front of them, a worktable to the left, lots of plants, a string of lights crosses the room hanging from the ceiling, shelves hold botanical skincare and perfumes
the view of a shelf above a studio worktable with stacked papers in file trays to the left, a silver tray with a jar of cut tuberose flowers, a beeswax candle and a brass bowl. there's a lunar calendar on the white wall behind & a postcard of ganesh
against a white wall, a marble shelf holding a black jar with a white label on the front, without a lid, revealing the contents: a cardamom and coconut milk bath blend. vanilla beans and bits of amber & cardamom pods sit alongside

A poem for the season, a little music, and various reflections I’ve come across this month. It feels like so many of us are craving a deep sense of reconnection to the natural world, and attuning ourselves to seasonal shifts is a beautiful doorway into that practice. Winter can be a challenging time to embrace, but over the last few years I’ve felt something move beneath the surface of that resistance, and I am guessing that many of you have, as well. More than ever, I’ve been coming across so much writing on the topic that resonates. You’ll find a few of those pieces, below.

I’ve also been reflecting quite a lot on something I read recently in Jessica DeFino’s newsletter, The Unpublishable, about beauty professionals giving up their lengthy multi-product, “active”-heavy skincare regimens for a simpler approach. I was honestly a bit shocked to hear about the sheer quantity of different items people seem to be using in their routines, and was not at all surprised to hear that this is causing lots of issues. If you’ve ever written to me asking about which of our products might be best for this or that skincare issue, you’ll know that I will often suggest reducing the number of products you use dramatically, sometimes down to just doing a simple oil cleanse routine with organic jojoba oil and a warm, soft damp cloth. In this moment of great disconnect from our natural world, we can also become quite disconnected from our own bodies and spirits. So often what seem like challenging skin situations are really messages from our body about something that needs to happen differently. More rest, more water, more nourishing movement. Perhaps fewer products, but gentler ones to support the skin’s inherent healing and thriving ability. A practice of reconnection that can begin with our skin, but extend to our spirits. Curious to know your thoughts on Jessica’s piece!

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reading:

in the icelight

the art of hibernation + also: Wintering

winter solstice chant

listening:

to our winter playlist

a bit of ancient music for the season

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Around the studio, I’ve been lighting candles and very gratefully assembling all your holiday orders. You’ll notice a special new seasonal offering in the shop this month, our very luxurious cardamom & coconut milk bath. Inspired by our elettaria botanical perfume, this will make a gorgeously cozy addition to your winter baths. Our forest tea is also back in stock, along with a new taper candle offering to light the long afternoons and evenings.

the view of a shelf inside a vintage white wooden cabinet, on the top shelf are vintage tea strainers, a black bottle of body oil, facial cloths and a wooden face brush, on the bottom shelf a vase of dried flowers, a tea strainer, a black jar of tea
looking towards our studio door, a two-tier work table sits to the left, with paintings leaning against the wall to the left of that. on the table are paperwhite bulbs, vases of carnations and candles. above the table are light switches & intercom
looking down onto a white marble shelf on a dark wood table, a silver tray holds a white tassel bag with a vintage perfume balm case with rose, cardamom & sandalwood solid perfume, crystals sit alongside & a juniper sprig
seen from above, six black jars with their lids off on a white marble surface filled with a forest tea blend, pu-erh tea leaves with green and blue cornflower accents

The first of the paperwhite blooms is always pure magic…

green lacy fern leaves are to the left, while a glass jar sits on a light colored wood floor. in the jar are black stones and paperwhite bulbs, producing green leaves and one white flower
looking toward a white wall, a white marble shelf holds a brass chamberstick candle holder with a beeswax taper candle, to the right is a tiny yellow orchid in bloom, the candle is lit

In the garden, I’ve managed to sow some of the native plant seeds (including echinacea, bottle gentian and swamp milkweed) that I collected from our own beds at 6&B this autumn. I’ll be leaving them outdoors with a bit of protection from this crate and a bit of row cover fabric so that they can enjoy the cold period they need before germinating in the spring. Here are some more details on how to do this, from the Wild Seed Project, in Maine. The garden looks beautiful as winter approaches. Crabapple boughs are laden with fruit for the birds and sculptural seedheads abound. Sending you all my best wishes for the season ahead.

a garden scene with a black plastic crate filled with plastic pots which are filled with potting soil and native plant seeds, each pot is marked with a wooden popsicle stick labeled with the seed type, plants & trees in the background
a close view of a branch of a crabapple tree against small apartment buildings and blue sky, the crabapples are red and in bunches with yellow and green leaves
against a light cement wall with black marks on it, the orange autumn leaves of the spirea plant gracefully arch downwards, metal piping runs across the wall from left to right
against a green garden background scene, a stem of common milkweed with a pod going to seed, revealing white fluff and brown seeds, on a cloudy grey day in late autumn
 

more winter musings

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an intuitive shift

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november notes