My best friend, Ned had just died. When I smelled this exotic incense like fragrance it became my absent friend to me. He had been an Augustinian monk and was extremely exotic, the first person to speak to me the word Mojito, describing in detail its minty exotic flavor. I had no instinct to put the perfume on. I was involved in it as though in worship. The fragrance and I were separate and I wanted to worship it and celebrate our separateness. The smell of the fragrance filled every part of me so completely and then 20 seconds later… it was gone. The transitory nature of the scent became a metaphor for our love and friendship. “Plasure D’ More” means “The pleasure of love.” It’s from a French song that goes: “The pleasure of love lasts but a moment, the pain, a life time long.” The pain of having known Ned would be with me forever but that was price of having had the pleasure of loving him. In the fragrance I felt the celebration and the deep grief in our parting.