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CHARTREUSE





A FORECAST



words by lily moskowitz



              

1.  A VARIABLE COLOR AVERAGING A BRILLIANT YELLOW GREEN 

2. A PALE GREEN OR YELLOW LIQUER MADE FROM BRANDY AND AROMATIC HERBS 


It is my prophecy that in the coming year chartreuse will swallow us whole.


We will be at once soaked in it and fermented in its image.


Notes of lime, citrus, and spice: Chartreuse is a splash of acid and a pleasant sting.

                  

Tingling on the tongue and going down easy, shocking the eyes and numbing them over with a minty film. Chartreuse prickles and soothes. Glacial and crisp.



In chartreuse, we are sharp and honest. Merciful and unforgiving. Serenity biting down. Well aware that we are shocking just as we are saturated.


Bold, herbaceous, peppery. Chartreuse is the slime of the season.




130 plants and flowers brewed into ambrosia. Pickled in its hue and brined in its pigment, our bodies will become electrolyzed and mellowed. Pine and sap of the earth. A curated sampling of sacred terrain.


Returning to freshness, a slate of sprigs and certainty. Clothed in it we emerge as cyborg Chartreusians.



Only two living Carthusian monks produce true Chartreuse liquor. Brimming over with it, we become saints. Coveted. Rare. Unsubstitutable. Passed down for three centuries, its recipe retains mysticism and singularity. There is no other of its kind. In its image we are restored of our delicacy. Our uniqueness.


Immune to imitation. Stirred with secrets and sipped with care.


Submerged in chartreuse we are the ambrosia of mystery. Made holy and consumed. 




Neither yellow nor green, Chartreuse opposes categorization. It is neither and both.


Polarizing and ambiguous, the glorious goop of the in-between. Cheeky, brash, jarring. Daring you to define it, chartreuse evades binary.


Chartreuse is the bastard baby of primary and secondary color. It is the sickly vomit of utmost health and the piercing still of silence.





Children of chartreuse are obtuse and protruding. They have mutated from safety and they seduce you with the imprint they’ve left upon the eyes.


Chartreuse is synaesthesia. It is both color and taste. Noun and adjective. Alcohol and paint.


Chartreuse will shock us in and out of our senses. It will cool us to neutralization. It will jolt us into opinion and out of complicity.



Fresh: chartreuse is neither the hallucinogenic neon or the tame sage.


Chartreuse is the earthly made artificial. Extracted from the soil and splattered with synthetic.



Chartreuse bodies are primal and post-industrial.


Grounded by its greens and lifted by its yellows.


Solid and unsettling and sacrilegious.


Levitating on chartreuse we are high, we are tangy, we are balanced.



EVERYTHING WILL BE CHARTREUSE.







@ENVY.MAG
ENVY Magazine