Anthony Allesmith to anony all

🌿 Becoming Anony All

A soul's story, rooted in earth and starlight

There are those who arrive in this world with ease, welcomed by biology, born along predictable paths.
And then… there are those like me.

I was never supposed to be here.
I was conceived despite the barrier of an IUD—already a whispered impossibility.
I survived its removal, where many would not.
And I remained, even as my mother’s body bled and trembled to release me.

By every measurable fate, I should have slipped between the cracks.
But I didn’t.

And even once born, I danced again and again with death—
accidents, traumas, times I was forced into states that nearly took me.
Moments where, in other timelines, I surely died.
I believe this: in most versions of this reality, I didn’t make it.
But in this one?
I did.
And that has to mean something.

🔮 The Naming

I was born Anthony Vassalle, and when I married my beloved, Josh Smith, we merged our surnames into one: Allesmith—from Vassalle and Smith, a weaving of roots and renewal.

From this merged name came the phrase Anony All—
“Anony,” a quiet echo of Anthony,
and “All,” carried from the Vassalle line and expanded into a deeper truth:
I am not one. I am not other. I am all.
Not hidden. Not separate. But woven, like breath into wind, like names into family.

Anony All is not a name to disappear behind—it’s one I step fully into.
It’s a name for belonging, for communion, for shared story.
Because I believe: we do not heal alone.
We were never meant to.

🌲 The First Grove

I first touched the roots of Druidry in the Elfin Forest of Los Osos, before I had words for what I felt.
By age 14, I came out as both queer and a Druid—two truths I never saw as separate.

I belong to the liminal places.
Between male and female.
Between science and spirit.
Between reality and dream.

I am trans, polyamorous, and queer—shaped by love that refuses walls.
I go by he/him, but fae/faem calls more sweetly to the shimmer of my soul.

🧬 A Life of Listening

I studied physics, marine biology, and microbiology, not to chase prestige, but to listen to the world’s deep structure—its sacred mathematics.
I’ve read tarot for over twenty years, studied the occult, walked beside indigenous elders, and prayed in a dozen languages.
I listen to stars, to soil, to suffering.
I do not seek power—I seek presence.

In my youth, they called me Saint, not for righteousness, but for staying with those unraveling.
I sat with people on the brink—those whose bodies had been overtaken, whose spirits trembled.
Not because I had answers, but because I knew what it was to be almost gone.
To be dragged from your body, and choose to return anyway.

🌾 Rooted in Ritual: Rustic Earth

Everything I’ve survived, studied, and surrendered to has grown into Rustic Earth.

It’s not a brand—it’s a living altar.
A farm, a field, a hearth for healing and remembering.
Here, I offer seasonal cuisine, sound journeys, Wyda movement, Nwyfre energy healing, and sacred end-of-life care through my practice Earth to Ether.

It’s a place where ceremony meets soil, where the sacred returns to the kitchen table and the forest floor.
Where grief is held in song, and joy is cooked low and slow with garlic and love.

🌕 Becoming the Sparkle

Before he passed, my grandfather—who rarely gave softness—turned to my mother and said,
“That son of yours… he’s becoming quite the sparkle.”

That was his only blessing.
And I carry it still.

I am that sparkle. That stardust wrapped in soil. That whisper that says: you still have time.
Because I am still here.

I am Anony All.
Still alive. Still becoming.
Let’s experience this life together.