Peggy

I turned, and suddenly the walls were filled with powerful paintings, burning with energy and colour, and the walls seemed to come alive, pulsating like creatures. I turned towards her, full of wonder; in response, she pointed to the other side of the room. I turned sharply: lit, dynamic, breathtaking sculptures now inhabited the walls, and a large window filled the room with light, which seemed to vibrate. "Has it always been here, all this beauty?", I asked her. "How could I have missed it?" She looked at me and smiled. She said something about learning from the best and always believing in your own ideas, but I don't quite remember the words. Outside the window, for a moment, I thought I saw New York, and suddenly I smelled a wonderful perfume.

The scent

In the dream, I know that this perfume is called Peggy. First it is a bright scent of incense that precedes her like a wave of charisma. I am a little intimidated, but I take courage and step closer, and now I distinctly smell the fierceness of the sumptuous notes of sandalwood, the soft elegance of gaiac wood, I smell Atlas cedar and the inner strength of someone who believes in his own intuitions, despite others. One more step, and here comes the rounded sweetness of amber notes, as soft and intense as a passion for art, and the irresistible delight of musks, as fascinating as one who has made a work of art of his own life.