The Pitch for the Pitch;
Resins, Sap and Crushed Conifer
In the storm, the fragranced molecules of the woods come alive. A shower of pollens, wood dust,
and if the storm is fevered enough, conifers snap needles, deciduous trees shear branches and leaves, bark curls and takes to the wind, a layering of fragranced notes. If the storm is by the water, whether still fresh water, or saline crystals on the fly they all build a miasmic efflorescence of scent.
Walking the forest in quietude, another layering of heat or cold, crushed soil — the smell of hot, cracked earth, acidic needles, leaves laid on leaves, compacted humus, scraped bark and heated pitch — each builds out another world of fragrance.
Try this, gather some pitch in the seeping from the injured point of
resinous tearing of a tree, like above;
it’s a gummy mass
that can come away with
a knife or curled away by hand.
Build your fire,
gather an ember and set the pitch, tar on the coals [like in a bowl or copper tine.]
A white smoke, a dense incense will burst forth.
The crack of split wood,
the splinter of timber,
sawn, axe-cleaved rounds of
pine, the scent unfolds.
Tar.
And it’s for you to consider what it means,
to your journey in memory, smoke, perfume,
meaning, context
and place.
TIM
––––
EXPERIENCE DESIGN
STRATEGIES | BRAND, STORY & SCENT
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