Messe de Minuit, Oui!, Whee!

I recently purchased a bottle of Etro Messe de Minuit after being amazed by a sample. The fist time I wore it, I attended a December showing of "The Nativity" and came away with the most peaceful feeling ever from a movie. The characters were unspoiled by the complications of modern life. The famous manger was only a simple dugout among the rocks. And when the wise men layed the gifts of frankincense and myrrh before the baby Jesus, I got goosebumps--because I smelled like frankincese and myrrh.
This visceral reaction is part and parcel of the Messe de Minuit experience. Anyone with a childhood spent in the Catholic or Orthodox Church cannot smell this fragrance and remain emotionally unmoved. It is every mass, every wedding, baptism, and funeral available in microcosm at the spritz of a bottle.
Those of you who have never been incensed (and I don't mean joss sticks, but the pieces of resin burned in the censors dangling from the chains, putting out laughably copious, roiling clouds of smoke) those of you will be mystified by the aroma. What is it? Citrusy? Sweet? Salty? Smoky? Mineral-like? Musty? Is it beautiful? Bizarre? Comforting? Creepy?
Completely fascinating? Join the club. People have been burning resin for thousands of years.
The family of incense includes frankincense, myrrh, olibanum, mastic, and other resins that come from the sap of trees. Like pine sap, the substance is sticky and dries into hard droplets. One must first light a small piece of charcoal and then lay the resin against the red-hot coal in order to produce the fratrant smoke.
Messe de Minuit - orange, bergamot, tangerine, labdanum, incense, myrrh, cinnamon, patchouli, honey, amber, musk.
When first applied, it resembles the smell of unburned resin, sweet, pungent, intense, and citrusy. Inhale deeply. The aroma clings in the back of the throat like salt. It is quite a unique experience. As it stays on the skin, the frangrance begins to take on the smokiness of burning. I don't know how it accomplishes this, but Passage D'Enfer pales in comparison. I am left with a lingering bitterness of sad ashes, the echos of old, stone churches, and a longing to repeat the ritual with sweet, new incense.
Strange stuff. When I die, I requst that my body be ceremonially annointed with this stuff right before the funeral. Enough said.

You know what gave me "yeast?" Voleur de Rose. It smelled like brewers yeast in a vat of freshly brewing wine. We make wild mulberry wine in our basement, and, so help me, it smells like VDR.

Oh, lordy, that sounds divine.

Helg, that is actually a good idea. Room spray.
These vampiric scents (and they truly are Goth, musty, mineral-smelling) might be perfect for room ambience. After all, that is how incense is used.
Plus, fragrances sprayed into the air take on a different character, not being influenced by reactions with the skin.
(Thanks for the tip: I will look for sage in MDM.)
No, I've never had any Avignon, nor any luck finding a Comme de Garcons dealer. There are others in that interesting line that I would love to try.