Cycle of MysticismAfter many years, I returned to these streets, but I did not recognize any of these faces, new looks and foreign hands approached mine. Fragments of existence, continuous questions about the true meaning of the sacred, the fragrance becomes a smell, hidden in the old sacristies, among the old pews of the monumental and popular churches of Palermo, in the old wardrobes of the grandmothers; each street hides its personal fragrance, an old cloth shop, the baker's oven, the hairdresser's salon with its old cologne and the warm fragrance of the pastry shops. On Sundays, I remember, after my trip, my father almost held my hand, no one was looking for us in front of the pastry shop in the street, my father led a loose cannoli plate, it was a ritual, the fragrance became a smell, hidden in the old sacristies, among the old pews of the monumental and popular churches of Palermo, in the old wardrobes of the grandmothers; every street hides its personal fragrance, an old cloth shop, the baker's ovenLike any indelible sign, I remember every step well. The journey began in the city of Palermo, on the steps of a church, last September. I knew I was looking for something to start writing and feeling. The incessant smell of this threshold that I have never crossed is still in my olfactory memory.It is composed of: Labdanum, Benjoin, Oud, Gaiac wood, Patchouli, Fève Tonka, Frankincense, Thyme and Vetiver.[Narcotico was conceived, created and arranged from listening to the albums of each of these phases: La Casa del Dolore and Memorie Statiche by Nenia]
