Knus, the power of my inside storytelling

  From a three samples set sent to me by Ricardo Ramos, Knus was the only one i wasn't expecting to kneel down to. All i have read about Knus is its (supposed) list of notes on the website. I don't know its story and I'm not sure if i want to learn about it. Whenever I try a new fragrance what interests me the most about it it's not the storytelling that maybe some PR invented for believers` ears to fall into it, it is the feelings that roll-over my inside that count. Because what's a story without an emotional background to its words?

(As far as i know Ricardo i don't think this is his way, he gets inspired by his numerous travels and multicultural competency, so Knus most certainly has a real story but i chose to listen to mine.)

Initially i feared Knus. I still do...

On a piece of paper its scent took all the cinnamon in the world and spout it raged over the rawest darkness disguised as a gathering of old pals that forgot their smoked days - Opium, whose weak memory played tricks on it and came without its basket of fruits, Cinnabar and Youth Dew missing their floral aura.
Knus, though, made no sense. As synonymous of a victorian house abandoned for ages - a hauntingly charming exterior that doesn't invite in. Something in was missing to be appealing and it wasn't what i call nice, on the contrary - pungent and all over, rebellious, the kind that calls for attention. Scent-experience provoking. What was keeping me away was also what was pulling me into it. I was searching for a while for an uneasy fragrance to break into small pieces and glue them together upon my liking and understanding. Knus appeared as the uninvited guest to my Christmas party. I put another plate on the table and let it in.

On skin. The second round. Cloves. A sea of aromatic carnations-like spread over my flesh. Other fragrances came to mind at this stage - Jungle L`Elephant by Kenzo, L`Origan by Coty, Patchouli Souviens-Toi by Papillon Rouge - but Knus was not one of them. One of its own kind.
It became intriguing at this level so i continued to explore it on the next one.

On the third try more materials started to show up like Pandora`s box releasing things into the world only keeping the hope inside. It was a bit of everything and it created confusion around and inside my self. Each part was disconnected from the other but all of them were connected as one piece to the center through an inward spiral.
Knus` (so) many layers unfold one after each other questioning the common path of perfume-making and undeliberately creating another dimension for patchouli centred fragrances.

The final - falling into it - stage. Knus is thick. It's real and it makes me feel grounded to an alienated world dominated by a tree with long branches as strange extensions to a wide trunk.
Its ramifications grow from a centered spicy-resinous earthiness decorated in a smooth wooden frame. Each confers a different juncture to the fragrance and adds it weight.
Knus` opening is exaggerated in such an exuberant way that makes me forget I'm just a simple gal and not a mythological being.
Kuns bursts into a medicinal rawness shaped together by spices (cinnamon, clove and, yes, nutmeg) and patchouli`s (plus cardamom) camphorated quality that extends with a licorice-like booziness. A natural aromatic sweetness flows from the inside and it brings in a benzoin-like vegetal aspect with mushroomy speckles that fertilize the existent earthiness with dry coffee  grounds (nice use of the cardamom to obtain this effect). There is a subtle saltiness similar to ambergris in the dry-down that provides warmth and a strange facet of fresh-turned earth.
Knus is dominated by the perfect pair of patchouli / spices that develop beautifully leaving well marked their traces from the opening until the dry-down when it merge with skin-feel musks.
Its "old" aroma is somehow familiar and it's exactly how i would have liked a fragrance "inspired by a deserted town left in ruins whose walls hide the history of its prosperity and the darkness of its deterioration" to smell like if it wasn't for its flashy fruity-sweetness and mass-appealing approach. Knus preferred to be special instead.

Initially i feared Knus. I still do (for its complexity), but now i also respect it.


Samples offered by the brand, my opinions were not. 
You can find Ricardo Ramos Perfumes de Aútor here.