This is the story of two families that will forever be connected by adoption. Four adults and five kids worked together to collect beautiful and meaningful things from two homes. Five central branches represent the family of five that commissioned the project. Tucked around these branches are four flowers from the home of the family of four. You can find groupings of five and of four throughout the collection because these numbers are miraculous, joyful, painful, and hard-won. Two families woven together by chance and choice and Love.

The bride's sister and maid of honor contacted me just after the wedding to see if I could make something of the beautiful flowers Allysen held on her big day.

A gift from one neighbor to another to remember all of the fun and love that was shared across fences and on front porches. Both parties have moved to new homes but have this beautiful reminder of their happy years spent living side-by-side.

Her husband contacted me several weeks before her birthday because she had mentioned seeing my work. She spends time walking in Runnymede park and so he thought she might enjoy a collection photo from there.

Here's to partners that listen well and do the creative work to show how much they know and love you.

This is a beautiful and brutal photo of memorial flowers honoring a beloved child. The individual who commissioned the photo is using it in creative and loving ways for the sake of the bereaved parents and siblings. I am so honored to have been invited into this grief.

One of my happiest moments as a minister has been officiating a last-minute wedding between two lovely souls on July 6, 2020. The couple had been engaged before the pandemic hit but because one is in the military and they were not officially married, they had not been permitted to see each other for months on end. The separation was excruciating. In a few short days of planning they both found a way to get to Winston-Salem, get a marriage license, and make legal what their hearts had already decided. It was a gorgeous early morning ceremony in Bailey Park with just a few witnesses. Their joy was immense.

Fast forward 2 years-Lauren and Virginia asked me to create an anniversary photo from items collected from Bailey Park on their second anniversary. I remember the cool breeze even in the July 2020 heat and felt that same breeze on the morning I went foraging many moons later.

I collected from Bailey Park and made a photograph to hint at the moon phase for July 6, 2022 marking a moment in time both connected to but different from their wedding day.

This commission celebrates 4 generations of women, all with botanical names: Gladys, Gloria, Autumn, and Olive. Gladys has a birthday this August so her Granddaughter asked me to create a collection to celebrate the strong women she has gifted the world.

| was commissioned to capture this family garden in Winston-Salem. I've been there before but usually while chasing children. l was stunned at all of the details I hadn't stopped to notice before. The couple that built this garden called it their first child and the care they gave it led to overwhelming abundance for them and for their growing family.

She grabbed a few shells when Taylor saw the Atlantic Ocean for the first time. They weren't married yet but would be soon and she'd also grab a handful of black sand from their honeymoon beach in Costa Rica.

His idea and her Fulbright Scholarship took them to Argentina soon after, where she tucked away a handful of the mate leaves they learned to savor that year. Handfuls of sea glass from Chile, more than a few handfuls of coffee, and a handful of years later, they have a back yard full of flowers, pumpkins, and tomatoes... and the squirrels their pup Luna lives to chase. Their firstborn loves purple and the second loves blueberries. Who's to say what the third little bean will love when they join the party next spring?

I joined three grown siblings and their mom as they celebrated and grieved their father and husband at their long time home, which they recently made the difficult decision to sell.

The stories circled around for over two hours and we never even set foot in the house. We started with the day Uncle Troy showed up and helped his very pregnant niece pack up all of the family's belongings less than 48 hours before the third born burst upon the scene.

I learned why the front trees were planted, where the kids' treehouse was, the night the storm took it down, how proud dad was of his azaleas, and where the family pets are buried.

The siblings remembered pulling running cedar to twist into red-bowed Christmas wreaths, shooting mistletoe out of trees, and after a bit of searching in the overgrown hillside, managed to find a few old golf balls their beloved dad had used for post-retirement chipping practice.

Mourning is a strange and daunting alchemist. There's joy in it and anger. There's disbelief along with some of the deepest knowing we ever know. It fires us up and burns us down. And sometimes it just looks like a walk around the yard.

This collection is from a beautiful farmhouse complete with a rushing creek and mountain views. There's a front porch full of rocking chairs, a fire pit for roasting marshmallows and all sorts of delightful details to make for a perfect vacation in the Great Smoky Mountains.

Mimi's house is small and filled to the gills with handmade dolls, colorful quilts, and some of her homemade Tabasco pepper jelly. Some of her collections carry 80-plus years of memories and others just last year's rain and sunshine. The heat and humidity were relentless that July. She let me pick a few peppers for the photograph and told stories of her famous pepper jelly beloved by her 6 adult kids and every member of her Friday night cards group, including the known--and beloved--cheater!