Meet the Alchemistress


Harvesting Hawthorn berries at Findhorn in Scotland in fall 2017 while on an ancestral pilgramage trip.

Harvesting Hawthorn berries at Findhorn in Scotland in fall 2017 while on an ancestral pilgramage trip.

Mission: Wolf  - Wolf Sanctuary in Southern Colorado - Education versus Extinction - Calling us to question our relationship with the wild

Mission: Wolf - Wolf Sanctuary in Southern Colorado - Education versus Extinction - Calling us to question our relationship with the wild

Hello love.

My fascination with plant-facilitated healing stems from a childhood immersed in nature - for much of my childhood, Yosemite was our second home, and the mountains, creeks, flora and fauna were my guides. After finding plant medicine in the midst of a healing crisis in 2012, I directed my life towards forging relationships with the plants that brought me such profound, multidimensional healing. My practice of getting to know the plants involved working with them on every level I could, from gardening and tending to the plants in their home, to taking every class I could with my hometown herbal teacher Leslie Gardener, to making medicine and developing my relationship with food as medicine. In 2015 I began studies at the Ohlone Herbal Center in Berkeley, CA, where I developed my craft in the Foundations, Therapeutics, and Clinical programs under the guidance of master herbalist Pam Fischer. In Spring 2019 I began to serve as a supervisor for first year clinicians, meanwhile offering classes to the public and through Ohlone’s long-term programs.

Much of my process in the last decade of study was guided by questions of resourcefulness and community & individual resilience. What is true wealth and how can I cultivate a life that is profoundly rich on all meaningful levels? I explored the story of economics and the distribution of wealth in my studies at UC Berkeley before graduating in 2010 with a degree in Political Economy. Swiftly after graduation, I realized my most meaningful experiences would be created with my sweat and hands. I turned to gardening, handicraft, herbalism practice, sharing archetypal stories, learning stories of the place I live, remembering stories of my ancestry and their daily & seasonal rituals, all in a rewarding effort to become more inextricably linked with the life that grows through and around me.

Ever deeper in the rabbit hole, I became inspired by the great feminine force of my garden, and my curiosities turned to the global rise of feminine power, specifically as it relates to relationship and personal power. My laboratory is now largely in my work as an herbalist and professional dominatrix - here, the profound and humbling process of guiding people through their personal underworld, through fragrant valleys of shadow, into a point of utter self-acceptance and self-love, inspires me greatly.

I am a strong advocate of self-awareness, nurturing, and love as keystones to personal health. I would be honored to work with you on this plant path. Send me a line for inquiries; email is preferred, and I will get back to you as swiftly as possible.

Alexandra Hudson
Montclair Village in Oakland, CA 94611

DearAlchemistress@gmail.com
510.816.3468

IG: AlchemistressAlexandra
Facebook: Lexiconandra


INSPIRATION

You must not ever stop being whimsical. And you must not, ever, give anyone else the responsibility for your life.
— Mary Oliver, Wild Geese
Bolinas-based artist  Sophie Wood Brinker , a muse for the wildly imaginal kindness one might think to find only in fairy tales and their favorite dreams… she is real though, and she is about to charm the genie in you.

Bolinas-based artist Sophie Wood Brinker, a muse for the wildly imaginal kindness one might think to find only in fairy tales and their favorite dreams… she is real though, and she is about to charm the genie in you.

ODA A LA JARDINERA, BY PABLO NERUDA

TRANSLATION BY BEN BELITT 

Yes: I knew that your hands were a blossoming clove and the silvery lily: your notable way with a furrow and the flowering marl; but when I saw you delver deeper, dig under to uncouple the cobble and limber the roots, I knew in a moment, little husbandman, your heartbeats were earthen no less than your hands; that there you were shaping  a thing that was always your own, touching the drench of those doorways through which whirl the seeds.

So, plant after plant, each fresh from the planting, your face stained with the kiss of the ooze, your flowering went out and returned, you went out and the tube of the Alstremeria there under your hands raised its lonely and delicate presence, the jasmine devised a a cloud for your temples starry with scent and the dew.

The whole of you prospered, piercing down into earth, greening the light like a thunderclap in a massing of leafage and power. You confided your seedlings, my darling, little red husbandman; your hand fondled the earth and straightaway the growing was luminous.

Even so, your watery fingers, the dust of your heart, bring us word of fecundity, love, and summon the strength of my songs. Touching my heart while I sleep trees bloom on my dream. I waken and widen my eyes, and you plant in my flesh the darkening stars that rise in my song.

So it is, little husbandman: our loves are terrestrial: your mouth is a planting of lights, a corolla, and my heart works below in the roots.