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Showing posts with label early modern period. Show all posts
Showing posts with label early modern period. Show all posts

Thursday, October 21

Product Review: Alpha Ionone (Natural), from Perfumer’s Apprentice.

 Dedicated botanists, as for backdrop to a fragrance-making and mixing enthusiast “hobbyist” sort of pseudo-professional profile of perfume-maker - not quite a lab chemist, ever, foreseeably, yet not quite an elementary-level “essential oils only” type of fragrance mixer, by moonlight, as it were… would not quite classify the Iris as a notably fragrant flower. No, by it’s formative traits, it is a perennial tuberous root-replicating crop; a rhizome, that is. The flowers? Classic, via our Art History lessons, as Jean Claude Van Damme, though… man, he could kick some ass. 

I’m still on, like, my last blog post’s lingering persona and effects, and attitude. 


Sorry about that. It’s Claude Monet, who did the famous landscapes of the folk-ish peasant pastorale, he, himself, a master of observation, and an indulgent one, when it came to large strokes, and goop, with his impasto technique, with the tube of acrylic, forming some of the characteristic primary favorites of art lovers, of the Early Modern Period; here, Impressionism, as it’s known, along with Van Gogh, who did similar work, stylistically.

Botany enthusiasts ex art lovers-slash-historians would instantly draw a connection, between Claude Monet and his Irises. 

Sunday, August 5

quatrærtholgmo»omot‹alg«or»g.9řc≥tet language: a notebook first impression of the visual font CharSet [Unicode, Not]: byte loading machine language parsing aesthetics as par-standard source material breakout-arrays.

The concept is simple enough.

I have slow I/O data connections on my device, and I Can read and functionally take in signifiant contributions of non-volatile web-standards sites,

but then, 

if only 

the site would also jaunt 


side-loading parallèle iPigeon jaunt leisure aside pop-ups,

Par en vous être sont ils símiliaęræsthèsiment


even slightly jauntededAF'ed... 

a bit more bíftęk bonne âmes flame broiled tri-tip shitsicles triste incursion of à late-heraldry dept. 

Of public affairs-socioalètrivsisselesmonts,

which happened to be a trying 25 days or so, much of which was better off in that it was a trash dumpster years-end move outs-academiesiaetiques of the recyclables-bum coverage area,

which I've been looking and feeling alright to jaunt-triste alley-trash dumpster diving-bum, 

yet it doesn't get weird, from my volatility profile fluff. 

Other bums walk on the same streets, why not a garbage recycler clothing enthusiast tech life style blogger standard fluffboy academic dégrée and à load-bearing bum profile kit? Pretty standard to dig through the trash, yet a non-domesticated variety bum.

There were tons of Asian .pharma ad hoc OTCs and some prescribables; tricyclical anti-depressants, 

and I'm not for fluffing pharma nitro butyri smokin' "meth," ... 

Smoking is tobacco and cigars. 

An un-justified jaunt-inclusive Nabisco diet triste would be ... «okay»; they're

1:2:3 

biscuitées compagnie nationelle in a card box; supposedly:
« !...whatever ... » 

I call the ingress monolithiques-historic Nabisco-socialite-bifték 

bonne déjeuner for a sçhweaky peut-être commentaire on the bleeding of gums, méat bits in the teeth, some fleas-smellin' piss, leanAF diet on tech rotary codices in a filthy outdoors environment, 

and then the window-to-street ratio is 

so not Guy who did it himself 

kind of 
fluff-triste animal cruelty thing, and it smells like it, as Well, outside. 

I'm going to follow up GTD on my 

tobacco curing crop Summer gardening project, 

and purchase ionic minerals, gallon of milk, then perhaps [or before], 

workup some mockup linguistics soundex homologies of charset standards of validly jaunt-loading 

bif-coto-proteries-schqueaf-schqueaf, 

à rawr râ rawrr.. 

then I have to encode the resonant-spinners-toy district jaunt to do a makeshift pigeon ciconne-pipe-machine organ, made of spinners, instead, 
«perhaps». 
I have some more un-published blog notebook article to upload, after this one.  

Latest post.

I think that I might have seen my former high school years' pastor

this evening.  I suppose that perhaps I didn't recognize him, but, upon considering him, after I greeted the man who seemed to have over...

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