Nēomirage

A transition.
The curtain shifts, blown back and forth.
The gaze falls behind, surrounded by a frame.
Memories emerge, one after the other
They fade.
Something you wanted to forget,
something that never happened.
New layers form, transforming the origin.

The image. A moment.
Searching, on the threshold.
Remembering something that will never be.
An illusion, engulfing.
A trap. Again.
Familiar illusions become memories through repetition.
An empty space opens, the narratives shifting.
Lost again.

There are rooms no one has ever entered.
Corridors where the light hesitates.
Doors, half open.
Voices, from another room.
A reality, nearly forgotten.
A world without a center.
Without clear memory.
An atmosphere.
Blurry.
A place where the feeling remains.

The smell of a grandmother’s house.
Wooden corners.
The garden.
Freshly cut lawn, one summer or another.
Another summer night.
Sleeping with light
Sand between the fingers, the nails.
Scratching on blackboards
The shadow of a cypress tree
in the corner of your eye.
The imprint of a wet body
on textile.
The shape of a story.
Long nights.
Night talks.
All or nothing
Fresh laundry.
Cotton on skin.
Skin in water.
Salt in eyes.
Salt in tears.
Algae and foam
Childhood.
Adulthood.
Before and after.
Again and again.

We all know these images.
Constructed or reimagined.
Forgotten and remembered.
Again and again.
What if these memories are illusions?
A collection of words trying to describe something that never existed

The house is empty now.
No more remnants.
A grandmother who never existed.
Corridors and pathways.
Doors half closed.
traces and residues
on concrete deserts
behind windows
haze on mirrors
mist between the fragments
You have never been on summer holidays.
A summer throwback as an illusion,
shaped by the repetition of images.
The back rooms of memories.
An empty wasteland of corridors.
Fragments of childhood.
Rooms with no past.
Stories never experienced.
Collective memories.
Versions of feelings.
The things that could have been.

Nēomirage explores the shifting space
between memory and fiction, perception and
imagination. Each fragrance is conceived as a
passage, a threshold, a scene without a center.

The name combines néo (Greek: new) and mirage
(French: illusion), reflecting an interest in moments
that feel real but remain elusive, a modern vision of
fragrance as emotional architecture.

Scent narration, Brand storytelling und Fragrance Identity für Nēomirage - Contemporary Niche Fragrance House in-between Vienna and Marseille founded by Alex Kasses.

Fotos © Marie Luise Baumschlager