Alexander Farnsworth

The dispensary owner on being queer in Utah, hotel balconies, and lessons from his great, great uncle.


Hi! This is a great Conversation and we’re really excited for you to read it, but before you do, we want to let you know that Farnsworth (whose founder you’re about to get to know) has limited edition Pride packscurrently for sale in Massachusetts that benefit Boston Pride for the People. So if you’re in the area and want to support a good cause while smoking weed, go pick one up.

I moved to New York with a suitcase when I was 19. I sold my car for $2,000 and I said, “I’m going to the big city.”

I grew up in Utah, but I spent a summer in New York on a modeling contract when I was 17 and fell in love with it. I was like, This is the place for me. I did some teen acting and modeling in Utah, which is a big hub for Disney given its proximity to L.A., so I had been toying with moving to California, but ultimately I felt like I needed a Mercedes to fit in there. In New York, I could ride the subway and be a bit more independent.


I was also queer in a very conservative Mormon community and I didn’t really feel like I had a place there artistically or intellectually.



It was in that environment where I realized, Oh, cannabis can be flipped on its head.


I clearly have a lot of fear tied up in these things and I don’t like that. I do want to try dipping my toe in, even with something like ecstasy. I just think each individual is just quite different. Each individual needs different things, different chemicals. It’s like how one prescription of antidepressant doesn’t work for everybody. Some people can tolerate Lexapro, some can tolerate Zoloft, some can tolerate Wellbutrin, and so on. But you have to try them to figure it out. It’s all about what perfect potion will make you an open, vulnerable, expressive person who can feel all the things, and not just one thing.

Soothing rituals can take different forms. I think there’s the treats version of that where I’m like, I just want cookies and to do nothing. That’s usually if I’ve had a really tough and stressful work week. Then I’ll lean into that. And then there’s YouTube, which I really love. I love watching historical costuming and sewing. I love watching painting. I love watching cooking. I find cooking sounds really soothing, like ASMR. That is usually what I do to relax myself. And I love watching birth videos.

Since I can remember, I’ve always wanted to be a mother, and hopefully I have the opportunity to do that in my life. I’ve just always felt in my bones that it was something I was meant to be. I was always sort of baby crazy and loved children, and it turned into this obsession with birth, and the transition of identity for a mother, or a person giving birth.

I think in some ways it’s one of the last truly mystical things that we have in this world, where people are like, “Wow, maybe there is a God,” right? It’s something that we have so little control over, a process that touches life and death, where we tap into our most primal, and deepest selves, and where you see the true power of the body, particularly women’s bodies. And newborn babies feel like this gift from the universe. They feel like these completely untouched little creatures who we, as adults, still don't fully understand.

Over the years, my interest in wanting to be a good parent, and wanting to be a good mother, transitioned into me really obsessing over the birth process, and how cool I think it is. And also how sexy I think it is. It’s such an interesting thing. Life comes from sex and life comes from, I don’t know, just such a bodily experience. But as somebody who hasn't done this before, I’m also sure I romanticize a lot of it in ways.


Queer history, and especially queer history in cannabis, is not being taught in public schools.