Lately, I’ve been reflecting on the roots of Supernatural. The early days of very early morning hours (and nights and weekends) with sooty hands and poetry-inscribed tincture labels and full moon ceremonies and knowing where to find planty food in every NYC neighborhood because back then, I saw clients all over town. My shoulders ached from carrying around a heavy laptop because I couldn’t afford anything better, and there was Mod Podge under my fingernails from hand-finishing product labels. I burned literal and figurative candles at every end, writing blog posts while commuting to my day job, and from it, before moonlighting for extra funds in order to start this … thing. I didn’t know what it would be, but I believed I was headed in the right direction and that was (is) enough for me.
Pharmakon Supernatural started (originally as “Rx”) in a closet-sized apothecary before growing into a full-sized public cafe-apothecary with the best herbal beverage menu in NYC. (I’m obviously biased but also imagine what we served. It was so far out!) We launched products, retail, ecommerce, events … I taught an average of two classes a week for four years straight. My private practice turned into online classes — live and pre-recorded — and we collaborated, co-hosted, conjured, created with a team that grew from one to two to twelve.
Way too much else has happened since then for me to recap it here, but as I find myself returning to some of my earliest sources of inspiration, projects, and ways of communicating what it is I believe I have to share with you, those smudge-filled hours home-making poetry with plants in what became my apothecary are very much an influence still and again.
Woven through all of this work is an artistry that I feel both privy to and responsible for sharing. The beauty of working with these plants never ceases to astound me. I’m often interrupted while blending herbs, developing recipes, or handling plants — by their colors, the curls of smoke, the exquisite geometry). I’m compelled to share what I see because I see it, so you can expect more of that in the coming months.
As we journey on, I encourage you to see the art amid the commerce. I’ll be there too.