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ˈælkəmi  

a power or process that changes or transforms something in a mysterious way

 

If told my story, I would say that my life has changed drastically over the past four decades, beginning as a child on the South Shore of Boston, and now as a mother of three in the Southeast, but in truth, not much has really changed.  It has simply evolved.  

I spent my childhood writing stories, poetry, collecting crystals, gathering stones, feathers and any other object I believed held magic.  I created potions under the shade of an elephantine maple using her sap, dirt near her roots, sticks, flowers and leaves.  Spending time in nature was sacred, and I turned to the woods, the water, and moon for inspiration.  

My youth was heavily influenced by my parents strikingly opposite personalities.  My father remains a knowledge-seeker and avid traveler, who stirred in me constant inquisitiveness and the need for adventure and motion, while my mother was a painter, crafter, and gardener, filling my youth with beads, color, flower names, and the need to use my hands to create. 

Though I’ve had many jobs, ranging from teacher, reading specialist, and editor to massage therapist and hypnotist, my life feels like its own alchemic process, taking bits and pieces of experiences and fusing them together to create meaningful work that is dynamic, never mundane, and always mysterious. I feel blessed that now as a woman, my world is constructed of the grown-up elements I held dearly as a child: writing stories and poems, creating essential oil blends, using crystals, plants, and sound in client sessions, and providing healing services that deliver both physical and emotional benefits.