Plutonic Rainbows

I think I have decided on my next fragrance purchases.

Tom Ford Soleil Brulant - This is a divisive but captivating entry in the Private Blend line. Soleil Brulant takes the solar DNA of Soleil Blanc and gives it a smoldering twist. Users often describe it as a clash of hot desert sun and syrupy resin: bright citrus, amber, honey, and leather mingle with smoky oud in a rather bold way. Some find it decadent and sensual, while others feel the sweetness and smokiness fight for dominance. Projection and longevity are generally strong. It’s a fragrance that commands attention — definitely not for the faint of heart.

Bois Talisman is part of Dior’s new lineup, and while not as widely known yet, early reviews suggest it’s a sophisticated woody oriental with a luxe, polished finish. There’s a familiar Maison Christian Dior elegance here — cedar and sandalwood interplay with a smooth, almost incense-like drydown. It’s often praised for being understated, refined, and incredibly wearable, with a balance of warmth and lightness. A safe bet for those who appreciate versatile woods with modern restraint.

Oud Ispahan Esprit de Parfum - This is the richer, more concentrated sibling of the beloved Oud Ispahan. Esprit elevates the original’s opulence with deeper, more resinous facets. The rose-oud combo remains central, but with even denser layers of labdanum, smoke, and spice. Fans of the original often regard this version as the ultimate expression — more serious, more luxurious, and longer-lasting. It’s less airy, more meditative, and designed to impress with regal intensity. Some suggest it’s closer in spirit to The Night or Dawn by Frederic Malle.

Update: Soleil Brulant is a complete no-go for me. After spending time with it, I’ve come to the conclusion that it bears an uncanny resemblance to Maison Francis Kurkdjian’s Absolue Pour le Soir. Unfortunately, that means it also shares the same challenging facets that made me dislike APLS in the first place — most notably, that harsh, almost animalic “straw” note that overwhelms the composition. It’s pungent, unrefined, and lingers in a way that I find deeply off-putting. I had hoped for something opulent and radiant, but instead, it veers into territory that feels murky and unpleasant on my skin. Disappointing, especially given the price point.

Dior’s prices may be steep, and their recent decision to reduce bottle sizes wasn’t well received, but the quality is undeniable. They offer free next-day delivery — even on weekends — and the packaging is sumptuous.

Vanilla Diorama is a fragrance I’ve grown to appreciate, and I had a feeling I’d eventually own a bottle. It’s fine for summer wear, but it’s probably best suited to cool autumn days. The blend of orange top notes with creamy vanilla, rum, and a hint of light chocolate cake actually reminds me of the far more expensive Lost in Paris by Roja Parfums.

Strangely, I’ve found myself quietly drawn back to Vanilla Diorama from Dior — a scent I hadn’t expected to revisit so soon. It’s frustrating to think that just a few months ago, they quietly reduced the bottle size from 250ml to 200ml. I really should have purchased a bottle back then. With these luxury fragrance houses, you never quite know what changes they’ll make until it’s too late. Now there’s a rumour circulating that it might be discontinued altogether, which only adds to my need to get a bottle.

I will probably order it tomorrow.

Ordered a sample of this. It will be here in a few days. With a fragrance this expensive, even 1ml is costly. Supposedly one of the best oud fragrances on the market. We will see.

Reconfigured Shellfish with SSH to run over OpenVPN. Had to use ChatGPT to get it set up correctly.

Yesterday wore MFK Oud Extrait. Today is Fall Into Stars.

Sample arrived today. I'm not sure. I don't get the cold, church incense feel. I will check it out again in a few days.

I found Absolue Pour Le Soir 2024 to be a bold and challenging fragrance, but not entirely in a good way. The opening hits hard with a sharp cumin note that borders on harsh and medicinal, which lingers longer than I'd like. While the honeyed rose and amber drydown eventually bring some warmth and depth, the initial phase feels jarring and overly retro, almost like something an older relative might have worn decades ago. It lacks the raw, animalic edge of the original, but instead of refining it, the reformulation seems to have dulled its character. I appreciate the attempt to modernize a polarizing classic, but for me, the new version feels disjointed and ultimately disappointing.

I've developed a neuro-inspired language acquisition system that:

• Mimics child language learning
• Uses a tiny transformer architecture (4-layer, 256-dim)
• Trained on child-directed speech from the CHILDES corpus
• Features a web application with:
• Safari auto-launch functionality
• Real-time training monitoring
• Interactive model evaluation
• Cognitive tests like Wug Test and word segmentation
• API-driven interface for researchers

Next Engineering Steps

• Implement biological enhancement phase
• Add sparsity constraints via L1 regularization
• Integrate spiking neural dynamics
• Develop hierarchical attention mechanisms
• Expand evaluation framework
• Introduce curiosity-driven learning
• Establish production deployment pipeline

Future Vision

• Add multi-modal inputs (audio/visual)
• Develop real-time dialogue interface to demonstrate interactive language learning capabilities

Dawn by Frédéric Malle, composed by master perfumer Carlos Benaïm, is a powerful meditation on oud, illuminated by the sacred stillness of early morning. Part of the brand's Desert Gems collection, Dawn evokes the quiet majesty of a new day breaking over the Middle East, where the air is laced with incense, heat, and centuries of tradition. The opening is a radiant burst of pink pepper and Turkish rose, immediately introducing a sense of regal intensity. But it’s the heart — an impossibly rich, resinous oud—that defines the fragrance’s character: smoky, deep, and reverent, like ancient wood left smoldering on a temple altar.

What distinguishes Dawn is its emotional weight and balance. Benaïm tempers the wildness of oud with a warm, golden amber and the sticky, animalic depth of labdanum. The result is less confrontational than The Night (Dominique Ropion’s sibling scent in the same series), yet no less commanding. It wears like a ceremonial garment — formal, imposing, yet unexpectedly comforting in its drydown. Sillage is elegant but assured, and longevity is exceptional. Dawn is not an everyday fragrance; it’s a moment of stillness rendered in scent—timeless, spiritual, and resolutely grand.