Memo Paris

It leads to deep forests, bare moors, wooded valleys, mossy reliefs, waterfalls, meadows, castles, ruins or other manors. And to a lake where the unknown ripples. It calls for painting. Discovery. It welcomes stone tones between brown and silver, cloudy skies with a singular glow, intense greens or fiery colours depending on the time of year. Smoky woods keep it company. It is called Inverness, and this Scottish town at the mouth of the River Ness knows all that nature can, knows all that it owes her. A form of beauty that comes from the water, from its ample movement, a history in tune with the elements. Time flows here, dense and discreet like Amyris wood. It fills the space, and with it, sandalwood, cedar, guaiac, a touch of mate absolute, and a powdery orris butter accentuate its luminous and enveloping presence. A striking, pervasive trail, as if carried by the riverbed on its way to Loch Ness and its silent legend. A fragrance guided by a deep and subtle woody conviction, which keeps its mystery intact, to which we return, as if magnetised.