Tomorrow could be boring

Study Notes - a column about perfume studies

Basenotes, the family-owned and run perfume shrine with over 13.000 listed fragrances, industry news and a lively community has a new columnist. I'm hoping to make it a monthly series about being an adult distance-learner of perfumery and a trainee perfumer. For those of you who have been wondering who I work for, wonder no longer. The article contains the answer.

I still can't quite believe any of this is happening. It has been a bizarre journey. And this is only the beginning! I might still manage to somehow spectacularly cock it up. That'd make entertaining reading, but please cross your fingers for more of a positive outcome.

(Illustration by Grant Osborne)

iGoogle dragon theme!

Last week, I downloaded a trial version of Corel Painter 11. It's a little buggy, but I am still lusting after it. I was on holiday, so had a few days to mess around. I ended up designing a dragon theme for iGoogle. You can add it to your Google home page from here (and please do add your comments and ratings! I believe they might help improve the ranking of the theme, which in turn would get it in front of more people).

I'm still using the same old Wacom tablet I've had for years and it's doing fine. With Painter, I found that the pencil tools were convincing enough within the programme so I didn't need to do what I normally do (which is to draw with pencils first, scan the result and continue digitally).

There is no way I can afford (or even properly run) Painter just now, but I will budget for it once I upgrade my desktop PC. Maybe next year. My desktop PC is also getting on a bit and unlike the Wacom tablet, this is starting to be a problem.

(Cross-posted from the portfolio blog).

What is the difference between 15/km2 and 392/km2, other than 377?

Finns are drowning, getting drunk and crashing their cars this weekend. They are also building big bonfires, eating sausages, swimming naked in the sea or in one of the 155.000 lakes, heating up saunas - and some might even be collecting wild flowers and putting them under their pillows based on old love spells.

It's Juhannus (Midsummer) in Finland and I feel homesick. I miss some of the above. Not the drunken, drowning part. I miss the odd, golden haze of Finnish summer evenings. I miss Puffet ice cream sandwiches. I miss the way supermarket cash register staff don't look at you in the eyes and how you have to pay for your plastic bags. I miss the cheesy Finnish soap operas and reading old, yellowing Aku Ankka (Donald Duck) pocketbooks at the summer house. I miss having space to move around, even in the cities, without feeling suffocated.

I would love to go for a midnight swim, or for a stroll in the forest.

When I moved to England over 16 years ago, one of the many things I didn't quite realise was that I'd be swapping space for crowds.

Today the population density of Finland is 15/km² and the population density of England is 392/km². Even the numbers tell you that one place is crowded and the other one is not, but I made an image to illustrate the difference. Whilst the figures would have changed in 16 years, the ratio would have remained similar.

Of course one has to take non-arable land into consideration (there are all those lakes in Finland after all. And when you take a birds-eye view, the whole country looks like a giant forest, splattered about with water and the odd field and town). Most of Finns live in the cities and down the south. There is a tendency for city-dwelling Finns to huddle together for warmth and resources; it is normal and expected for people from all sorts of backgrounds to live in blocks of flats. Sharing the heat, sauna and laundry facilities makes sense in the harsh conditions that are the norm for majority of the year.

The Finnish summer is bittersweet; heart-breakingly beautiful, but so fleeting that half of it is spent recovering from the winter and the other half anticipating its return.

Even keeping all of the above in mind, one place is crowded the other one is not. There is a difference in how it feels to be here and how it feels to be over there.

But here's the real catch: I've grown accustomed to having lots of people everywhere. Visiting Finland makes me feel a little uneasy. Where is everybody?

Yet in my heart I crave space. The wonderful duality of expat psyche.

Finns are, generally speaking, rather homogeneous. There is the same stuff in the shops, the same aesthetic preferences, the same morals, the same political leanings. When viewed from the outside, that is. And when generalising rather broadly. Nevertheless, the homogeneousness is noticeable from this angle and is perhaps one of the other reasons why, after a while, staying in Finland makes me feel like I've been sealed in Tupperware. You have to get out and take a deep breath. And of course, living away from it all, I fill my home with reminders from Finland. The same stuff, the same aesthetic preferences, the same morals, the same political leanings. I finally found a guy with whom a relationship seemed easy and right. His mother is half-Finnish. Etc, etc, etc.

There is a deep comfort in being among people who, without any effort, think and feel like you do. Living abroad is a constant daily mental effort; I once assumed that this would be eliminated over time, but I'm not so sure any more. On the surface (spoken language, body language, writing, appearance, manners, rituals...) one can become very well adapted; almost indistinguishable from the real deal. A bit of an accent in everything you say or do, but almost, almost. I think and dream in English. I no longer accidentally offend people quite so often (reading "Watching the English" helped with that). I blend in locally, in London and almost anywhere in England and the UK as a whole. There are so many different types of people living over here anyway that this is relatively easy.

But your deepest feelings, memories and psyche remain rooted in where you came from. Ironically, when I lived in Finland, I never felt I belonged there either. Only once I'd moved away, I gradually realised just how Finnish I really am.

The summer holiday season will soon be over. The Juhannus-celebration marks the start of the real Finnish summer. This year I may be able to pop over in September, but by then, I won't find fresh berries on the market stalls or get to swim in a lake. But this year is different - my best friend is becoming a mother and her baby is due then. She only recently came to visit London with her mum, but I miss her already. And, as I've mentioned before, she's the only reason it truly sucks to be away. With everything else, one can make do.

Driving, the deadly dance

Driving on the motorway is like a deadly dance where one must instinctively know all the possible steps. There is no choreography - only intuition and reactions. The focus it takes to move confidently and safely in fast traffic creates an odd sense of serenity. A layer of my brain; perhaps the one that's normally occupied by irrelevant distractions and damaging over-thinking, gets sucked into keeping me alive instead. (My macabre side now expects that saying this out loud means I will one day get seriously injured or die in a road traffic accident. Let's hope not).

I'm not talking about over-confidence. Far from it. The resources demanded seem to free something up; like removing all the background interference. And that's where the thoughts start flowing. The landscape, cars, noise (and the music I'm listening to) all merge into a symphony of focus and clarity. I can't be the only one this happens to: I seem to get some of my best ideas and best thoughts - and do some of my best problem solving when I'm driving at breakneck speed. (This certainly does not apply to juddering in an endless queue on the M25).

Given that at 70 mph my Smart starts to rattle a bit and at 80 mph (which of course I wouldn't actually admit to reaching because that'd be over the speed limit, so let's say, theoretically, at 80 mph) you get a real sense of driving a toy car mounted on a turbo engine, it's a little crazy that this is when I feel the least anxious, worried or jittery. Only when there are bad cross-winds do I snap fully into "oh crap, better slow down and keep this thing on the road", and out blows the meditative state.

The way I've come to call this meditative state in my head is "singing". It feels as if there is a release from the mundane; as if at all other times, the world and I are out of sync, but when everything is whooshing past, suddenly my thought waves and surroundings are aligned. And the road and everything around me is light; and my mind is singing.

I refuse to choose

The only thing I would change about how my world works is time. It's such a linear bugger; limited and irritating concept. Nevertheless, it's slightly less of a problem now I've worked out how to seemingly squeeze more out of it than most people. (Granted, this ability comes at some costs).

I want to challenge some assumptions. "People tend to be either good at art or science". I call bullshit. I want to be good at both. I'm still traumatised by my school-experiences of maths*, but I am now getting excited about mathematics, statistics, chemistry and science in general. Today I realised that I've already done two of the named courses for an analytical sciences foundation degree. I was looking for the timetable for the next course from the Open University. Not sure if I will be able to fit it in until I finish the IFEAT perfumery diploma, so it'll take a little while until I register. I have also earmarked OpenLearn for brushing up on study skills and for other useful bite-sized courses.

"One is either feminine or successful in business/work". Rubbish. You don't have to sweat testosterone to make your mark.

Someone (an area manager for a retail chain) once said to me: "Wow, you actually have a brain in that pretty little head of yours." Yes, I hope so. Thank you for the compliment (you cow). One can be considered attractive AND smart. Why do people assume intelligence has anything to do with looks, either way? Rhetorical question. Ironic, considering that my self-esteem is a bit wobbly in the looks-department. My mother was trying to toughen me up by calling me fat and various other things when I was growing up. Bless. She meant well, but it was a bit of a crap strategy.

When I was starting out as a make-up artist, my first agency appointment went like this: "You have both fashion and theatre in your portfolio. You have to pick one or the other; you can't do both." I told her that I liked working in both. Why should I limit myself? I didn't pursue agents after that and just went pure freelance. Since the make-up artist job, I worked for a fragrance distributor, for a software developer and in retail. Now, years later, I've finally found an organisation in which I've been able to (first tentatively and lately at full force) unleash my full Scanner-nature. It feels like unfurling scrunched-up parts of your body that you knew were there, but had gone numb. I've been allowed to - and even encouraged to - work in a way that suits me perfectly. I've been doggedly and persistently pursuing self-study "outside work" to enable some of this (outside work in quotation marks because that's an artificial concept for me. A few years ago I realised that I should stop even trying to separate work-head and me-head. I need to allow myself to get absorbed and work across all concepts, personal or professional in a mind-map-like way. Time and clockwatching doesn't come into it).

At first, yes, there were some questions: "...yes, but that's not a job description - which department would you like to work under?" Luckily they didn't last long. I suppose I had to take some risks, but in the end I am so glad I did - by showing that I could work cross-departments on various projects at the same time. I'm now so happy at work and with how things are going that the old "yikes, what's going to go wrong now?" -nerves are here. This is so great that every day I pause at some point simply to marvel. (Marvel is such a ridiculous word, but it's the only one that seemed just right. Perhaps I also wish to convey exactly how ridiculous this all still seems. I can't believe my luck and I'm nervous that I will now go a head and mess it up somehow. I've still got to learn how to stop worrying).

Meanwhile, I have just drawn up one of my re-focus plans. This time it's a mind-map with a stick figure-me in the middle with lines and boxes coming off it. I may have mentioned various planning tools before, but for as long as I can remember, I've periodically taken stock of where I am and what I am focusing on. Usually once a year, but sometimes more often. Turns out that under the "Strengths Finder" method of trying to fit us into some kind of classification system, one of my dominant strengths is "focus". (The others are "strategic", "ideation" and "activator").

There is a fair amount of writing on that focus page, quite a few projects, goals and categories, but it seems manageable. What Barbara's book "What do I do when I want to do everything?" helped me realise is that I don't have to choose, but that I needed to develop ways in which to focus on one thing at a time, then swivel the wheel of interests and activities 'round like a revolving spice rack and pick up the next flavour, focus on that for a while, rinse and repeat. Simple, but brilliant. When it works, you feel as if everyone else is scuttling around at normal speed and your time has just gone into Hollywood blockbuster slow-mo. They run the rat race; you do your thing... and another thing...and another...

*Being repeatedly humiliated in front of the class, called a fat cannonball, and having things thrown at you by your teacher tends to do that.

Biggest Muppet Fangirl

In the first company conference I attended after joining, I was asked to do a presentation to everyone (about, oh, 200 people & all the company founders) about what it meant to work for them. Struggling for ways in which to put my feelings to words, I drew a Kermit on the flip chart and said: Well, this place; everyone here - it's like the Muppet Show.

(Laughter. Confused looks).

I continued by explaining that there seemed to be a myriad of colourful, big personalities in the room with a bunch of different talents. And that the company was a big variety show with a great leader at the helm.

Mark (figurehead of company, co-founder, co-owner): "So, are you calling me a Muppet?"

(Silence).

Me: "Well, yes. But coming from me, that's a big compliment!"

(Everyone is holding their breath).

Mark: "Oh, I quite like being compared to Kermit. At least you didn't say Napoleon."

(Relieved laughter).

TRUE STORY.

Packing books

We have well over a 1000 books squished into a studio. We need to put them into storage so that normal people can come and view this flat. For us, living in a tiny library has been good. For most people, this flat would have seemed rather full up. Granted, we do now want to move (and no doubt we will fill up the new place with even more books), but the move has more to do with wanting a good location for us to settle down in and for both of us to be able to commute from.

These are the boxes so far. There is a second row behind these that's not visible. The stack was a bit taller to start off with, but Timo re-organised them after they fell on me whilst I was sleeping.

Speaking of commuting, I have some news. My new-new job is starting tomorrow. I'll need to be closer to the coast and so really can't wait to move. It'll be more overnight stays until then. I can't quite yet begin to believe what's happening. The current company I work for is one of the few in the whole world who do all their own product scents and fine fragrances in-house and buy their own materials. I'm very lucky to even work for them, much less be in the situation I am.

My job has involved bits and bobs in the lab; nothing too official, some experiments, some collaborative work here and there, that sort of thing. They have always known that I'm like an eager little puppy wanting to learn more, but I've also always known that I am one of many others who would like a slice of their time. I've made it very clear that my aim was (and is) to learn about perfumery and cosmetic science; I started self-study before I joined this company and have taken steps to brush up on my basic science skills (all the Open University stuff I've been doing). I was determined to find some way of getting diplomas or other qualifications - there are various courses available - but nothing beats practical experience and being taught by gurus in the industry. So it's been a case of hoping for the best and expecting nothing.

I've now officially become a Trainee Perfumer. The IFEAT Diploma course I've been so wanting to do starts soon (amazing) and I'll be doing lots of basic work at our factory and lab, learning the ropes and helping out where I can. I'll carry on doing a few other things too.

Yes, I've worked in the cosmetics industry for 20 years, so yes, for many people I know this latest development is probably a "duh". But it seems like a very big deal to me. From my novice experiments in this very flat (in 2005) to here has been an incredible journey.

Trains, planes and moral choices

Unless you live in a cave cut away from any kind of media (self-sufficiently, perhaps? Well, now that would be lovely) - you must know that travelling by train is the morally correct choice these days. Planes? Definitely not acceptable, at least not for domestic journeys. Automobiles? Hmm, if you drive a hybrid, or a Smart like I do is it a bit like greenwash? Is it really much better to do slightly less harm than regular cars? Aren't you adding to the grand total anyway?

I'm trying to be reasonable and make compromises.

I've never been big on flying all over the globe anyway, so that's fine. The trips I've taken have mostly been work-related and faraway holiday destinations or frivolous weekend trips to Europe using cheap flights have never attracted me. Check.

Driving - well, I've only been driving for a few years out of my life; I got my UK license and the Smart about 5 years ago. It was at a time when I was feeling extremely stressed and burnt out so having the independence was important. Nowadays I really try to think about the trips I make (almost all of them work-related) - should I drive or take the train?

Some longer-distance journeys really feel easier by train versus the car: you can settle down for a good while and work on your laptop or read a book. I travel a fair bit for work and do tend to take the train most of the time. It just makes sense.

And then some trips make you want to scream in frustration and never take another train journey ever again. Like the one I had yesterday.

A simple enough proposition - 2 hours one way with 2 changes. Not too terrible, right? Except that due to some incompetent advice and one train cancellation, the journey turned into 4 hours and 4 changes. I was frozen into a solid flesh-ickle by the time I fell out of the train that had carried me on the last leg of the journey. And thanked my earlier self for having driven to the train station so I didn't have to walk 20 minutes in the cold to finally get home.

I want the futuristic criss-crossing overground bullet-train networks, or cool, magically unpolluting hover-cars, or teleportation, please.

Why have we all been so slow to adopt new ways of conducting business? Some individuals and organisations have embraced video conferencing and systems that allow remote communication and distance leadership. Maybe we need to make all modes of (polluting) transport so excruciatingly uncomfortable that we'll only use them when absolutely necessary.