
My violin, a passion that is my obsession, one that makes me vibrate. It both punishes me and rewards me, it makes me soar and then lets me fall. The smell of wood, its feel. I caress its four strings with the bow, I press its neck firmly until notes emerge, reborn as feelings. Its touch against my neck, a forced hug, gruelling repetitions. Both of us lost in the loneliness of my room, united in the search for perfection until the melody transforms into art.
How it wears
Best worn — occasion
Seasons
Audience skew

Shares Amyris, Cedarwood

Shares Yuzu, Cedarwood; Citrus, Woody accords; both CITRUS, WOODY

Shares Amyris, Orange Blossom, Cedarwood; Citrus accord

Shares Yuzu; Citrus accord; both CITRUS

Shares Yuzu; Citrus accord; both CITRUS

Shares Yuzu, Cedarwood; Citrus, Woody accords; both CITRUS, WOODY

Shares Yuzu, Orange Blossom, Cedarwood; Woody accord

Shares Amyris, Cedarwood; Citrus, Woody accords; both CITRUS, WOODY

Shares Yuzu, Orange Blossom; Citrus accord

Shares Yuzu; Citrus accord

Shares Yuzu; Citrus accord

Shares Yuzu; Citrus accord