Martina says: "Sometimes, the world around me seems a little bit too loud, too crowded, too busy. When that happens, I take out my knitting, find a place to sit and feel how the noise slowly disappears while I knit one stitch after another. As I focus on the work of my hands, I notice how my mind regains clarity and strength - a state called 'Samadhi' in the ancient Asian language Pali [...]"
As florid, hyperbolic nonsense goes, advertising copy for perfume is up there with the best, don't you think? I offer you the following by way of example:
"As if in a dream, a fantasy, hovering between euphoria and delirium, Heliotropia inspires such reverie as it unfurls, arousing Elysian visions that threaten to overload the senses. Like a hazy veil of white flowers in the early dawn light, wild gardenia and jasmine sambac appear effortlessly elegant and serene, their fragility belying the intoxicating sweetness and indolic warmth beneath. A weightless floral, both gentle and fresh with glints of piquant green illuminating powdery, swathes of heliotrope. Billowing clouds of silvery white, plumes of sensual, spiritual Somalia Incense and fragrant woods combine for a deep melodic base. A heady fusion, in turns virginal and narcotic, Heliotropia carries the mind to a dream like place, a higher state of illusion."
"The purest and most thoughtful minds are those which love colour the most."
"We are more than aware that the psychology of colour names is powerful. Many people might doubt the wisdom of calling a colour 'Dead Salmon', for example, but this name is actually derived from a painting bill found for the decorating of the library at Kedleston Hall, Derbyshire, in 1805. Salmon is the colour and Dead actually refers to the matt paint finish rather than a deceased fish. [...]
However, all the names are rooted in much more than quirkiness or attention-seeking. We use the connotative power of language to describe colours. [...]
There was a deep desire to make a white that was almost gossamer in appearance - a white with very little additional colour and almost translucent - like a spider's web. This was the birth of the colour 'Wevet', named after the Dorset dialect for exactly that: a spider's web. [...]
We all know the hue of a mix of mist and drizzle, which creates the colour 'Mizzle'. 'Dimpse' is also quaint local dialect for the colour of the sky, but this time at twilight. These colours are joined by another weather-related name, 'Cromarty', a sea area referred to in the BBC radio broadcast of the Shipping Forecast, which warns sailors about impending gales and is very much part of the fabric of British life. 'Cromarty', a little lighter than 'Mizzle', conjures up the colours of swirling mists and turbulent seas."