What does black mean to you? Is it the darkened room in which you dream, the glistening menace of a panther's fur, the nervous stab of a blot of ink? What do you think black smells like? The smoking screech of a rubber tire, the rainbow shimmer of an oil slick, the sweaty leather of a rebel?

Here is what Black smells like. An aura of spice and incense in a darkened temple, lit only by smoldering candles, surrounds you as you reach a deep meditative state. As you drift, your thoughts lead you to a place of comfort and serenity. Embrace the aroma: it is your father's scratchy beard and the scent of his pipe. It is your mother's silky hair, freshly washed. It is the fur of your most beloved pet. Fall deeper, into the womb, into the tomb, farther. It is the smolder of creation, the hiss of the first rain on hot stone. It is carbon and coal and smoke and fire. It is the deep roots of life.

Puredistance Black plays hide-and-seek on skin, appearing, morphing, and reappearing to delight the senses. There is not a notes list for Black. Jan Ewoud Vos of Puredistance invites us to “Envision. Smell. Feel. Don't analyze.”