Aristotle wondered why I charmed exceptional people. Why my black bile, my sweet melancholy had affected philosophers, poets, artists and even heroes like Hercules. I am the queen of a rainy land dear to Baudelaire. I am the state of the soul that makes me a “sacred disease”. A liquid that used to be called “umore”. I am your mood, whether good or bad. I interrupt your mind with visions of madness and of genius. My perfume transcends nostalgia and awakens the spleen. I am the water of the spirit, MELANCOLIA.