08.09.25
Lately, I’ve been listening to Aquaphoria — the hour-long ambient mix Kelela. It’s not an album in the traditional sense. There are no peaks or choruses, no songs demanding attention. Instead, it flows like water: spacious, steady, unfolding in its own time. It feels less like music and more like an atmosphere you live inside.
That’s how I want this new chapter of KURROC to feel. Less about rushing to the next milestone, more about creating a rhythm that sustains. Less about noise, more about presence. Like Aquaphoria, it’s about depth, immersion, and letting transformation happen at its own pace.
As summer turns to autumn, I’m stepping back into the conversation — not just to show polished products, but to share the experiments, the setbacks, and the small wins that give this brand its pulse.
This isn’t just a new chapter for KURROC. It’s a new season for me too. And I’m ready to begin — slowly, intentionally, and with a rhythm that feels true.
—Shanice
03.04.25
Improvisation in 10 Days: A Note from Milan
Earlier this year, I visited Tarek Atoui’s Improvisation in 10 Days exhibition at Pirelli HangarBicocca in Milan. It wasn’t an ordinary gallery experience — it was a world built from vibration, resonance, and the quiet power of natural elements. Stones, water, and metal didn’t just sit still. They hummed, echoed, and carried sound in ways that turned the entire room into an instrument.
What struck me most was how sound — invisible, intangible — could transform a space so completely. You couldn’t hold it, but you could feel it in your chest, in your skin, in the silence that followed each note. It reminded me of something I’ve always believed: presence doesn’t need to be seen to be real.
That exhibition stayed with me. It made me think differently about my own practice — about scent, atmosphere, and the ways we build spaces that move people without them even knowing why. Just like sound, scent lingers. It shifts a room. It leaves memory behind.
When I decided to commit to KURROC full-time, I kept returning to that moment in Milan. To the idea that creating isn’t just about objects, but about what they release into the air — what they make people feel. That experience pushed me into this new chapter: to build a sensory world that doesn’t just decorate space, but transforms it.
—Shanice
02.04.25
Over the past four years of exploring scent, I’ve come to understand how profoundly it influences the human mind. Scent bypasses conscious thought; it is an immediate, instinctual response. Unlike other senses that require interpretation—like sight or sound—scent is processed almost instantaneously. There’s no internal monologue of “I think that smells bad”— there is simply “That smells bad.”
This is because scent is processed by the olfactory system, which has a direct link to the limbic system—the part of the brain responsible for emotions, memory, and instinct. Unlike visual or auditory stimuli, which must pass through the thalamus (the brain’s sensory relay center), scent molecules bind directly to receptors in the nose, sending signals straight to the olfactory bulb. This direct pathway is why certain smells can trigger deep emotional memories or reactions before we even recognize them.
The more we train our noses to distinguish between scents, the more we expand our sensory awareness of the world. Learning to differentiate notes in fragrance—whether in natural oils, perfumes, or even everyday environments—deepens our appreciation for the complexities of scent. Much like a musician hones their ear for sound, we can refine our ability to detect and interpret fragrance, revealing a hidden layer of beauty in the world around us.
—Shanice
