A joyous and crimson Damascus rose set in a frankincense absolute mount, waves of vanilla clashing against bitter splinters of myrrh, nocturnal drops of black ink crashing against citrusy streaks of elemi, Opus XII is a study of both rose and incense, pushing them each to unexplored territories and pulling out an uncompromisingly novel take on an otherwise classic accord.
Inspired by the mystery behind Orson Welles' Rosebud, Opus XII is an ambery and pointilliste constellation of gleaming moments coming back and forth from the dregs of memory, compelling us to believe that despite our knowledge of the present, only childhood memories are real.
