Franceasca Seiden shared their story and experiences with us recently and you can find our conversation below.
Good morning Franceasca, it’s such a great way to kick off the day – I think our readers will love hearing your stories, experiences and about how you think about life and work. Let’s jump right in? What are you being called to do now, that you may have been afraid of before?
I can happily say that my writer’s block has finally been broken, after nearly six years. What began as fragments and journal entries has grown into a living book of short-story memoirs, serialized each week on my Substack: Blood, Bone & Ghosts.
It’s not a traditional memoir. It’s cinematic snapshots of the men and lovers who’ve shaped me, The intimate relationships that left a mark. Not everyone makes the cut, and that’s the point. This book is about the truth that lingers when the relationship ends, and how intimacy shapes us long after. For me, answering this call is about stepping into authorship on my own terms, after years of creating platforms that amplified other voices.
The book has a title – I’m keeping that close for now, but the journey has already started. Each new story lives online in real time, where readers can subscribe, join the conversation, and help bring this book into the world. I’ve built platforms before, but this one is the most personal, it’s me, unfiltered, finally putting my own story at the center.
Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
I’m a filmmaker and writer who has spent two decades moving between film, curation, and healing arts, always with the same purpose: to create spaces where stories transform people. I’ve worked as a writer, producer, and director in the entertainment industry for decades, and I’ve also built creative businesses and collectives of my own, producing independent films, curating large-scale art events, and consulting with artists on how to tell their stories. At twenty-five I founded 3GZ Productions, producing documentaries and media projects. I later launched LaIcreatives, a digital magazine and platform that highlighted Los Angeles culture for nearly a decade, and I created Sexual Alchemy Healing Arts (SAHA), a touring practice that merged ritual, sound, and creativity for transformation. I also host the podcast Sex, Magick and Dessert, where I’ve interviewed artists, mystics, and healers on intimacy, art, and culture.
My work is distinct because it bridges the discipline of a producer with the intuition of an artist, living at the intersection of cinema and intimacy, strategy and mysticism. All of these ventures live under the umbrella of Alchemystic Arts, the brand through which I create spaces where stories become catalysts for change.
My most personal project, however, stands as its own entity: Blood, Bone & Ghosts. It is both my Substack and my first book of short-story memoirs—a living body of work where each piece arrives like a chapter unfolding in real time. Much of my career has been dedicated to creating platforms that elevate other voices, but this work also turns the lens toward my own—mapping the truths that linger in love, loss, and memory. It’s a separate journey, yet one that carries the same Alchemystic signature: transformation through story.
Great, so let’s dive into your journey a bit more. Who were you before the world told you who you had to be?
Before the world told me who I had to be, I was a girl filling notebooks with stories and sketches, convinced that imagination was its own form of freedom. The teenager version of me is the one writing again now: unfiltered, curious, willing to put the mess and magic of life onto the page. My memoir-in-stories is, in many ways, a return to her, the voice that existed before approval or performance, the one that trusted raw truth would be enough. I grew up between cultures, languages, and expectations, learning early how to move between artistry and identities, but underneath it all I was always a storyteller.
My mom put me into everything from dance and theater to a range of activities when I was still in the single digits, which gave me different stages to practice expression and a sense of belonging. Performing and moving gave me another language, a way to embody the stories I was already writing. I also began as a photographer, documenting everything around me, and I’ve kept that instinct my entire life. I have over twenty-five journals stacked with fragments of memory, and in many ways they are the backbone of my writing now. My family recorded endlessly on camcorders and cameras too, so I grew up in a house where the act of archiving and storytelling was second nature.
That instinct, to capture fleeting moments and turn them into something lasting – is the thread that has carried me through. My memoir-in-stories is, in many ways, a return to her, the voice that existed before performance or approval, the one that believed raw truth was enough. Today I write with the perspective of someone who has lived, lost, loved, and endured, but that girl, the one who trusted her imagination more than the world’s rules… is still at the center of everything I create.
What did suffering teach you that success never could?
Suffering taught me that silence is dangerous. That unspoken stories become ghosts that live in the body until you set them free. Success gave me recognition, platforms, even a certain authority, but it never forced me to confront myself. Pain did. The seasons where I felt most broken were the ones that taught me how to listen more closely, how to shape grief into something useful, how to write with blood instead of ink.
Those years demanded a different kind of honesty, the kind you don’t polish for applause. They stripped away the performance of strength and forced me into a practice of survival that became its own kind of artistry. I learned to carry pain without letting it drown me, to turn sleepless nights into paragraphs, to find ritual in the act of returning to the page. That discipline, born in the darkest seasons, is what has kept me writing now.
Again, that alchemy… turning what could destroy you into art—is at the heart of my book. It’s what I hope readers will feel: that their own wounds can become a map, not a prison.
So a lot of these questions go deep, but if you are open to it, we’ve got a few more questions that we’d love to get your take on. What’s a belief or project you’re committed to, no matter how long it takes?
I’m committed to telling the truth, no matter how long it takes or how uncomfortable it feels. For me, truth isn’t about fact-checking dates on a timeline—it’s about capturing the emotional honesty of a moment before it slips away. That commitment is why I’m writing short stories: each piece is its own world, its own confession, but together they form a larger map of who I’ve been and who I’m becoming.
I have written for networks , indie films and magazines – screenplays, TV scripts, Film and packaging, curatorial Statements, PR/Marketing, feature interviews and Art & Music reviews. Some projects are designed for quick impact; this one is designed to last. Even if it takes years, I know these stories will outlive me, because they’re built from the raw material of a life fully lived.
That belief in truth has shaped every project I’ve created, whether it was producing films, curating artists, filming documentaries, or hosting conversations on my podcast. I’ve seen how easy it is for stories to get edited into something palatable, something safer, and I’ve made a practice of resisting that. The kind of truth I’m committed to isn’t sensational. It’s the truth that makes someone feel less alone, the kind that connects people across cultures and experiences.
That’s the thread that runs through Blood, Bone & Ghosts and through my work as a whole: even if it takes years, even if it costs comfort, the truth is always worth it.
Okay, so let’s keep going with one more question that means a lot to us: What is the story you hope people tell about you when you’re gone?
I hope the story people tell about me is that I never shied away from the truth. That I turned my life, with all its chaos and beauty, into something useful for others. Not a perfect story, but an honest one. I want to be remembered as someone who carved out space for voices that might have gone unheard, and who wasn’t afraid to put her own on the page. If my legacy is anything, I want it to be the reminder that our stories—messy, imperfect, unfinished—are what connect us most. That’s what I’m writing toward now, a book that outlives me by belonging to everyone who finds themselves in it.
That’s why I’ve spent my career moving between mediums—film, art, healing, and writing—always searching for ways to turn experience into something that could reach beyond me. From documenting life with a camera as a teenager, to producing films and curating artists, to hosting conversations on my podcast, every step has been about building a record, a connective tissue. Blood, Bone & Ghosts is simply the most personal expression of that legacy: a body of work that preserves memory, transforms pain, and leaves behind a map of what it means to be human. My hope is that when people look back, they won’t see a life lived tidily—they’ll see a life lived fully.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://bloodboneandghosts.substack.com/
- Instagram: @franceascaseiden
- Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/franceascaseiden/
- Twitter: https://x.com/LAI_Creatives
- Other:
1. BloodBoneAndGhosts
https://bloodboneandghosts.
substack.com 2. LAiCREATIVES3. SexualAlchemyHealingArtshttps://
sexualalchemyhealingarts.com 4. Personal
https://franceasca.wordpress.com/ Sex, Magick And Dessert1. Apple2. Spotify3. iHeartRadioSocial MediaLinkedin :Instagram: (also Threads but they are linked through IG)Tik Tok :X :Tumblr:BlueSky:Alchemystic Arts
Image Credits
Franceasca Seiden
Shibari – The Dark Arts
