House of Cultivar

What you hold in your hand, what you see, what you taste, what you breathe in, and what you feel has a back story. You can recount its life cycle from seed in days, but in years it has ten thousand. From Mesopotamia and the Great Wall of China, to the Greeks and Romans, Conquistadors and colonists, hep cats in jazz clubs, OGs running Lbs and Ozs, and the many native people in hot, humid tropics where the plants grow wild. Cannabis has made its journey throughout the human experience.

The great poet Carl Sandburg once famously pondered that this plant was the first crop to be cultivated and thus gave birth to not only modern agriculture but to human civilization itself. Friend to Nobel Laureates, heads of state, inventors, explorers, captains of industry, artistic giants, this plant is creativity’s bosom companion. Where one hand holds the pen, brush, guitar pick, the other holds this plant, in tightly rolled papers and finely made pipes. 

From a Ginsburg howl to a Morrison growl, bebop to hip hop. Sour Diesel joint to Lemon Haze vape, there’s that moment of inspiration that starts as subversive then crosses over to mainstream. There’s the farmer gone thoreau, living deliberately off the land with a singular focus to cultivate only the finest seeds. There are botanists and biologists chemists and engineers. Fixating on the minutest of the minute, the subtleties that make all the difference in the world. 

In this guild of ours, with the unspoken passwords and head nods, this is what you do. You follow what’s true, what’s pure. You speak up for the collective, the syndicate, because that is our mantle. To do right by this plant-seed, root, flower, and leaf-every step of the way. To do right by those whose footprints we follow, who toiled in the shadows to continue this journey. We are Cultivar and this is the way up and up and on and on.