Jimmy Belasco In the News

GCI MAGAZINE, DECEMBER 2006 - "Fragrantic with intent"
Jimmy Belasco, founder of his eponymous line of fragranced candles, stresses his appreciation of a difference between waxes used for candles, and personally prefers utilizing soy wax. "I originally chose soy wax back in 1999 so that I could have a wax that did not fight or alter my fragrance blends," said Belasco, who says paraffin wax, made from crude oil, has a petroleum odor.

"This was important to me because I was creating highly designed candle fragrances," said Belasco, whose first company, er'go (of which he is no longer a part), utilized the soy waxes he described. Belasco says he uses only two ingredients: soybeans and a small amount of vegetable oil. "Soy means a cleaner burning wax for your environment," he said. "You have a choice, you can have a vegetable product producing fumes or you can have a petroleum product. The choice is clear to me.

"I don't believe we fully understand what 'fragrancing with intent,' can do, but I feel that it is the same with any product or service. Your intent will be felt by those who receive it," Belasco says.

Once he made his choice, Belasco, utilizing essential oils, set out to create candle fragrances that added dimensions beyond the one, two and three note blends prevalent in the market. "I wanted to create fragrances that were more layered and dimensional, like designer parfum for the skin," he said, indicating that most of his fragrances will have up to 100 or more notes. "Even when we cover a simple fruit fragrance, there is more than one dimension to the actual fruit." Citing a strawberry, which is not in his line, he explained, "There is the tart, the sweet, the green, the earthy, bitter and more that goes into the actual taste and smell."

Belasco's layered scents for the home include Mango and Cream, Blackberry Currant, Thai Ginger Citrus and Absinthe, and he cites his new fragrance, Sexe, for its complexity and dimension. The fragrance blends amber, myrrh, plumeria and sandalwood, and was first designed with the idea of use on the skin. "Our olfactory sense is the one sense that is directly linked to the emotional center of the brain, which is why a whiff of a fragrance can immediately bring back a rush of emotions," said Belasco. He believes that candles are vehicles for spirituality as well-citing the mind, body, spirit connection. Therefore, Belasco is concentrating on creating candles as "designer fragrances for the environment." His goal is to fragrance the home-not decorate it. "This is why I do not add color to the wax or decoration to the glass, only my signature adorns each of my candles," said Belasco.


BREAKFAST WITH JIMMY
By Jenny Block

I'm more likely to have a "spiritual experience" at Neiman Marcus than at any yoga studio, which is why breakfast with Jimmy came as such a surprise. I wasn't looking to find myself. I was just hoping to lose the evil twin that seemed to have replaced me - the one that flip-flopped between crying torrents, anxiety attacks, and refusing to turn off MTV, especially Laguna Beach because "those are my real friends." The problem- or at least what I thought was the problem - was that I had just moved 1,200 miles from my home in Richmond, Virginia to Dallas, Texas where we had no friends or family. And now had no life to speak of. I had my husband and my daughter and yet felt totally alone and completely lost. Then I met Jimmy.

I was just going to get a haircut and color, but while waiting for my highlights to set, my hairdresser, Todd, introduced me to Jimmy Belasco.

"He just started his second company. They make soy candles," Todd said. "You will not believe his story." Perfect, I thought. I can pitch him to D Magazine, for whom I desperately wanted to write but had had no luck pitching stories.

"What happened?" I asked.

"Long story short," Todd said. "Jimmy started a candle company that was wildly successful. His candles were mentioned in all the major mags. And then his partners stole it out from under him. Nasty business. Six months later he had a brand new company up and running and it's already poised to surpass the first ten-fold." Jimmy just smiled. He seemed so unassuming and sweet, looking more like Drew Carey than Donald Trump. (Thank goodness for him.) I couldn't imagine what his deal was.

The next week we met for breakfast. We weren't at Lucky's Café for five minutes before we were both in tears. I have no idea how. All I know is that I was interviewing him about his company when suddenly we were talking about Sept. 11 and how as horrific of a tragedy as it was things still went back to business as usual - or worse - in no time at all. The next thing I know we're talking about finding peace within our lives and walking the path of enlightenment and listening ... and then my mind wanders off and I'm wondering what Talan and LC from Laguna Beach are up to...

I liked Jimmy right off. But, come on, he's a kook, right? I mean "the path?" Enlightenment? Listening? Blah, blah blah. My dad - the Buddhist Rabbi - has been trying to fill me with this crap for years. Well I ain't buyin'.

But then I got another rejection e-mail or letter or call; I don't even remember. What I do remember is that it sent me flying over the edge I was already teetering on. The only thing worse than my own panic at that moment was the panic I saw in my poor husband's eyes. I feel certain he would have checked me into a hospital that instant had it not been for one phone call - to Jimmy.

Don't ask me why I would think to call basically a complete stranger. But I knew I could. In fact, I knew I had to. Mostly, I suppose, because he had told me about how he had "worked with" other people when they were struggling. Not in any formal way per say but people whose lives had intersected with his when they were experiencing some sort of distress. And through talking with him they were able to find their way to the path of wellness. "When the teacher is ready the student will appear. And when the student is ready, the teacher will appear," he had told me at breakfast. The second before I picked up the phone, I realized what he meant. I was ready to learn. I had to learn otherwise I simply wasn't going to make it. And like any number of other things in life we "know," I knew I had to call Jimmy. "Stop thinking about the negative. You're feeding this. You're feeding all of the negative and blocking all of the positive. Let it go," he said. "Stop. Listen. And let it go."

I wanted to slam down the phone or call him a jerk. But I couldn't. All I could do, finally, was listen. He told me I needed to learn to listen to myself breathe. That I needed to stop the negative loop that was constantly running in my head. That I needed a positive mantra all my own that represented my wants and needs that I could roll through my head the minute the negative thoughts crept in. He said I needed to open myself to all the possibilities and opportunities that were racing by me while I was so busy being closed and negative and sad and scared.

"But I can't do it," I told him. "It's too hard."

"It's easier than what you're doing now," he said.

"But I don't wanna," I said.

"That," he said, "is up to you."

So I started. I started plugging my ears with my fingers in the shower and listening only to the water and the sound of my breath. It might seem crazy, but the minute I do it, the whole world stops. At least the one racing in my head. At first it was hard. I had to say, "breathe, breathe, breathe" while I listened, otherwise I would get distracted by my own brain. But soon it became the "magic" that I use whenever I need to calm myself and focus on what's at hand as opposed to worrying about all of the million things I have no control over. I started being in the moment, enjoying the sun on my face as I walked my dog and the sound of my daughter's voice as she happily detailed for me every moment of her day. I started writing and sleeping and laughing and setting up appointments and making friends, and listening, listening, listening to what the world was offering me.

I even have a mantra now. A simple one really. It's a list of things, reminding me of everything I have, of everything I am ? or at least I want and am working to be. "I am happy. I am healthy. I am strong. I am smart. I am successful. I am a good mother. I am a good friend. I am a good wife. I am a good writer." I continue the list, not necessarily in that order until I feel better. Then I say, "Let there be peace and let it begin with me." Or, if I have gotten myself worked up enough that I get that sick feeling in my stomach, I visualize scooping up the bad feelings, wrapping them in love (that's what Jimmy calls good thoughts), and then pushing it out from my chest like you do a medicine ball. I can literally feel a weight lift.

And I'll be damned. It worked. I've been in Dallas for six months, and I now write for numerous publications both locally and nationally. I'm myself again. No, I'm better. And so are my husband and daughter. Do I still get tired and stressed and sad and bored and lonely and angry and frustrated and seek solace in sophomoric television programming? Uh, yeah, I'm human. And so is Jimmy. But, once a week, or as close to once a week as possible, I sit across from him at the café and he teaches me about the path I can choose versus the wandering I can accept. He teaches me about how easy it is to be present and how much harder it is to not be in the moment. He teaches me to breathe and listen and be open and what to do when I feel myself falling back into the rocks.

Someone overhearing us at breakfast might think we were simply close friends. I tell him what's going on ? what's working and what's not. I tell him about what I see as my perceived successes and failures. I tell him what I am seeking and what I see as being beyond my reach. The difference between my talking to a friend, even a very close one, and talking to Jimmy is his responses. He doesn't let me get away with lying to myself and he doesn't let me blame things on the external. He tells me why the things that are working are working and why the things that are not working are, well, not working, as opposed to simply comforting or supporting me.

Much of what Jimmy does for me is remind me that the world is not out to get me. Only I can create my own successes or failures. So now, when I get a rejection letter, I remind myself it just wasn't time for that piece or perhaps that publication, and then I pitch to a new one - immediately. When I'm in a traffic jam, I put in my favorite CD and try to enjoy the chance to sit still for a change. When I'm feeling lonely, I remind myself that staying at home is not a good way to open myself to new opportunities and I force myself to get up and get out. What it boils down to is taking responsibility. A very easy thing not to do. Blaming the external, on the other hand, is a breeze. Jimmy holds my peace and my success for me when I can't and every week, he hands over as much as I can handle. By telling me his stories and the stories of his friends. By teaching me to visualize the results that I want and then work to make them a reality.

I call him my spiritual advisor. Not because he brought me back to God. I never really lost touch with Him. But because he brought me back to me. To a core understanding of what I should be seeking ? peace in my life. Nothing more and nothing less. Simply peace. My husband calls him a lifesaver. We both call him our friend. But whatever he is - a bodhisattva perhaps - he's given me something no one else ever has been able to: a reason to turn off Laguna Beach. And I don't even need designer yoga pants.