
I just got back from a few days at the beach, and I didn’t realize how much I needed it until I was there! Time away, a different landscape, a different rhythm. But something shifted almost immediately. There’s a way the body responds to the ocean that feels instinctual - like it remembers something you didn’t realize you’d forgotten. The constant movement of the water, the salt in the air, the repetition of the waves… it quiets things down without asking you to do anything. It gave my nervous system a chance to reset. Not perfectly, not permanently - but I felt the difference. Enough to come back a little softer, a little clearer, a little more inside myself again.
Coming back into this season, there’s a lot shifting.
Smoke is in the middle of a rebrand of our Eau de Parfum. It’s been unfolding slowly -slower than I expected, if I’m honest - with unexpected delays, but also unexpected moments of clarity that I don’t think I would have arrived at if everything had gone according to plan! It’s one of those processes that asks for patience, even when you don’t feel particularly patient.
Over time, it’s becoming clearer what this next version of Smoke is meant to be. Not just visually, but in feeling. In intention. In how it actually meets someone when they encounter it. It feels more honest. More aligned with how I truly experience scent, which is less about categorization and more about atmosphere, memory, and the way something settles into the body in connection with the earth (a little reminder that we are earth)
There’s also a new fragrance in the works that I’ve been sitting with quietly. Not rushing, not forcing. Just letting it move at its own pace. I find myself returning to it in small moments - smelling, sharing with friends, adjusting, leaving it alone, coming back again. It’s not ready to be fully spoken about yet, but I can feel that it’s connected to something deeper. It feels like a continuation of everything I’ve been learning, especially around desire - what it actually is, how it shifts, how it softens, how it becomes more complex over time, and what desire means for me in this time of my life.
At the same time, I’m holding both Smoke and Wellspring.
Two parts of my life that ask for different things, but come from the same well. One rooted in scent, in materials, in composition. The other rooted in the body, in breath, in presence. They inform each other constantly and are intertwined at the deepest level.
There’s beauty in that, and there’s also a lot of responsibility. Some days feel spacious and creative, like things are flowing easily and I can see clearly. And other days feel like I’m moving through a kind of chaos that doesn’t always resolve neatly. There are moments where everything overlaps - work, motherhood, the state of the world, the internal landscape - and it can feel like a lot to hold at once.
Some days, if I am being really honest, I’m simply surviving!
It feels important to say, because I think there’s a tendency to smooth over that part. To make it all look more cohesive than it actually is. But the truth is, a lot of this is happening in real time. It’s not perfectly balanced. It’s not always graceful.
It’s just lived.
Mothering, especially, has been its own magical and challenging unfolding.
Learning how to be more present, more patient, more open. Learning how to soften, even when I’m tired. Learning how to keep going, even when I feel like I don’t have much left to give. It’s a constant recalibration - between work, care, creativity, and just being a person in the world right now.
And the world, as it is right now, feels both heavy and incredibly alive at the same time.
There’s a lot to witness. A lot to process. And also a lot to appreciate, if I let myself slow down enough to notice it.
Spring always brings this feeling for me.
Things opening, things shifting, things asking to be seen more clearly. Not all at once, and not always comfortably, but steadily. There’s a sense of movement that doesn’t feel forced. More like something natural that’s been building quietly and is now starting to show itself. I don’t have everything figured out, but I do feel more rooted than I did a few weeks ago. More connected to what I’m doing and why I’m doing it. More willing to let things take the time they need, even when that feels uncertain.
There’s something sweet in that.
Kathleen 🤍