Half-caffinated, seemingly trusting of life, and nestled in linen sheets that need washing.
I haven’t written a Substack in what seems like the point of no return at all (a very dramatic elongation of 54 days). I’m listening to this ongoing meditation as I come to you bare-handed without any aroma whatsoever.
Imagine being naked of oils, scents, perfumes, pheromones.
Having no trace of personal fragrance. No way to remember who you are through a smell that captivates your limbic system. A single scent creates a doorway, an unblocking of sorts, into the mental library of memory, sounds, sensations, and lived experiences.
In this season, I am stripped of any access to that inner archive. The library card to myself (which I actually want to get one in reality this year?) has expired, and I am meticulously blanking at which book I’m supposed to read next.
In tea ceremonies, you are often asked to avoid wearing scents that could overpower your experience of sitting with the tea.
I have been sitting with myself without any smell of who I am for the past 6 months.
My living experience has asked me to be deathly exposed.
There are seasons of adorning yourself in the scent that is “you,” and there are many seasons of unmasking what you thought was your vapor.
As someone who grew up excruciatingly body-conscious, being naked was the epitome of falling to pieces. Shards of tissues and a cracking of bones lay out on the floor, begging to be sun-dried by morning.
It’s a full moon type of processing.
One where you howl by nightfall and see your nudity in the reflection of your eye’s deepest waters. Pools of absorption. Waterfalls of cleansing.
I have been severely unsheathed by external swords that used to act as my perfumery. Swords that look like the perfect home, the successful relationship, the clothes, the rings.
I stopped fighting with what life circumstances had given me in 2025, I saw the battle with the inner perfection. I was never at war with life, but in deep violence with myself.
My aroma faded so that I could re-embark on a new passage to my origin of incense.
Once the smoke dissipates, you are left with your truest essence.
My personal smoke (or drug, I suppose) of all my 20s was the fume of instability.
This week, I am moving into a new home, a new city, a place that will act like the most genuine taste of stability that I have ever had in my adult life.
Looking back, I had cloaks of shame becoming my winter layers for any summer or spring that I’ve danced in. I secretly always cringed at how fluent I was with living in this place here and then moving there, borrowing money (again), going days on airplane mode, and performing in a million plus one jobs.
There’s now a different level of appreciation, beauty even to my inner archive that I’m gaining admittance to once more.
I love the 23-year-old who left the fanciest meditation tech-startup job to spend a whole year eating burritos in a beach studio (just to recover). The 25-year-old who moved to Portland and instantly felt trapped by gray skies. The 28-year-old who started her own business only to keep failing, pivoting, and actually succeeding the entire time.
Stability could have only been graced by all my sheer moments of instability.
Loved on. Kissed. Laughed with. Played.
Her instability is now touched with the fragrance of…affection.
If life by happens to feel unstable to you in this very moment, please (trust me) give it the intimacy it deserves. There’s a plethora of negative messaging around instability on the earthly sphere, but the way I see it, finally accepting it doesn’t mean you are succumbing to it.
It means you are finally ready to let it go.
I hope you become as fragrance-free as you are erotically fragrant.
Tokyo recommendations ______ ꩜
A month ago, I frolicked in Japan with dear friends as our hearts unfolded at a delectable retreat in Japan hosted by no other than 〰️
(( film photography provided by
& pictured by ))⌇ two spirits, I am lucky enough to call friends in human form ⌇
kitade tacos
WINEBAR
film coffee & things
paddlers coffee
loft (a department store that has an entire level of stationery heaven)
coffee country
bio c’bon (my favorite organic grocer, please pick up some individual packs of kimchi for me!)
natural lawsons (another organic grocer that has the BEST grab-n-go ice cream)
shoyeido incense
meiji jingu (for the nature)
cosme kitchen (chef’s kiss of natural skincare)
ogawa coffee
puzzle (wine bar)
ahiru store (wine bar)
dolce tacubo (dessert)
casica (antiques and nourishing meals)
kakimori (stationery & craftsmanship)
saten japanese tea
nagi ceramics
mustard hotel (shimokiazawa)
reload (shopping mall)
matcha passport
gather pastries
curry planet
FALL (ceramics and trinkets)
A new workshop ____ SWIRLY MAPPING ｡𖦹°꩜.ೃ࿔
The workshop for the ups & downs of your creative swirl & how to actually make sense of it all. This is for the multi-passionate who is tired of hearing surface-level advice of going niche-less or niching down.
Your swirl is a creative house that needs architectural bones to keep it structured, yet open. Today, we’re going to treat all your passions like material samples on the table - touching, sensing, combining, intuitively arranging.
Swirly Mapping is a cozy 45-minute workshop + private podcast that helps you trace the deeper patterns behind your swirly brain — so you can stop overthinking and start composing a creative direction that actually fits.
You don’t need another formula.
You need a process that reflects who you are — and gives you the space to find structure without shrinking your swirl.
!! A couple of weeks left to sign up
☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★
smelling this all the way down to my toes, half way around the world in romania 💋