The flight of a bird. Mandarin. A flap of wings, the rustling of feathers.
Bergamot. A flight over Paris. The awakening of the first memory,
of the essential. A hint of leather. The murmur of the city in the sky, a heart
throbbing. Orange oil. A race to ever more dizzying heights,
lost in the big blue. The green tea explosion. The hope of new horizons.
Escape. A dive into the euphoria and then take flight over the Ville Lumière.
Absolute jasmine. Leaving forever, then returning, an endless journey of
discovery. Lightness and depth. The fragility of contrasts. Forgetting for
to be able to remember better.