Oh my. Creosote Bush tincture (Larrea tridentata) as an ingredient in fragrance is intriguing me to no end, though my first response was, "why?!?" I can see a lot of possibility here for composing a fragrance that calls to mind a particular time and place, and the scent-memories one may associate with it. "Recherche du temps perdu", indeed!
My husband is a relative rarity for white people - he's a third-generation Mesa, Arizona native. The first time I went down there with him and smelled creosote bush after a rain, I thought someone was burning tires. (The New Mexican name for Chaparral is Hediondilla, 'little stinker'!) It took a few more visits with rain, or artificial rain, before I began to appreciate the scent. For those who are unfamiliar with it, it's strongly bitter-sweet, unmistakable, and its association with rain in the desert - which can seem like a miracle after many hot, dry weeks - is quickly made in the minds of the citizens of the deserts of Mexico and the American West and Southwest.
My fading, tattered copy of Michael Moore's Medicinal Plants of the Desert and Canyon West lists Larrea tridentata as a useful, though powerful-smelling and tasting, antioxidant and antimicrobial. For external use, it can be made into a tea, tincture or salve to inhibit infection in superficial wounds. Internally, it can help those who have impaired liver metabolism, with dry, brittle hair and nails, and cracks in the skin of feet or hands. It's also been shown to have some potential benefit in those who manufacture poor quality blood lipids, and have elevated LDL's and even VLDL's, very low density lipoproteins - a condition often found in heavy drinkers. However, Michael recommends capsules full of powdered herb for internal use, since, as he says, "a tea made from Chaparral is nearly undrinkable. I would go so far as to say that if you like its taste you may need professional counseling"! I imagine tincture for internal use would hardly be much better!
In an interesting side note, medicinal tinctures are also made with pure grain alcohol, typically Everclear 190, which is easy to get in Arizona. However, because we often want to extract plant constituents that aren't particularly alcohol-soluble, we typically dilute alcohol to 70-80%, with water. The method we used for herbs like Chaparral was to grind up freshly dried leaves and twigs as best as possible (a blender or coffee grinder dedicated to herbs helps), weigh the coarse powder, and put it in twice as much solvent. For perfumery uses, that would be pure alcohol with no added water. Put the mix in a jar, shake it, put it in a shady place, and shake daily for 2 weeks or so. Strain well when done.
I was fortunate to attend Michael Moore's Southwest School of Botanical Medicine and learn from him while he was still alive. I doubt there was another white person who knew more than him about the medicinal plants of the American Southwest. I also remember once, during my time at the School, in Bisbee, Arizona, crossing into Mexico for an afternoon, eating delicious Mexican food in a border restaurant, and buying 1 liter bottles of Victoria brand puro de cana, pure sugarcane alcohol, for US$4 each, in the closest farmacia. Southwestern American hobbyist perfumers who live within driving distance of the Mexican border may wish to take note; at that time, you could bring into the US a single bottle per person per month, duty free. That was before 9/11, though; rules may have changed since then, and the border, a strange and tense place even then, has probably become much more so now.