Cup Parfum by Liza Pittard

Cup plays with duality—bright and dark, unnerving and comforting. It opens with a pithy burst of green mandarin, pink peppercorn, and lush galbanum. Intoxicating and demanding. Then it softens into something tender and familiar. Your nose in a cup of tea, punctuated by allspice and clove. An incense from faraway that still somehow smells of home. Curling up against dry fallen fir needles amidst towering black spruce. Someplace too long to be.