Welcome to the garden

about

In 2020, I moved into the middle of the woods, found the biggest patch of sunlight I could, and started a garden. Well, really, what I did was start three gardens in three different places across the Triangle area like a maniac. Maybe I didn’t have anything better to do during the pandemic. Maybe I was just a maniac. The world will never know.

The growth of my farm has always been reliant on the growth of my pyrography business. My woodburned illustrations are an extension of the things I grow. They act as an interpretation of what I see in the things I cultivate. Along the way, I discovered that folks seem to like supporting this little external landscape I’ve made. It’s given me the opportunity to nourish people and provide beauty and color where it may not have previously existed.

For my first two years of flower production, I got a plot of land at a local farm and sold flowers at their farmers market stand in downtown Durham. In 2022, as I was recovering from a big surgery, I built a mobile flower cart and began wheeling it all over downtown Durham. I even grew flowers in secret places I’m never supposed to mention. ;) I also sold at Cecy’s Art Market most weeks.

Eventually, I decided it was time to grow in places I could legally tell people about, so I moved my farm to Breeze, an incubator farm funded by NC State that supports new farms getting started. The space was plentiful, the rent was cheap, and after I removed piles of trash left by previous tenants, I found that the soil was just right.

Over the course of a few years, I was able to start a perennial section, maintain steady veggie and flower production that I brought to the Wednesday Durham Farmers Market, and build a hoop house tunnel to begin overwintering flowers.

I suppose the whole point of starting this business is for many reasons. My brain is a strange little landscape, and I wanted to re-create it as much as possible outside of my head so that I could make more room in there. It got a little crowded and stuffy.

I discovered that at times I suffer from a loss of words, but in these moments of word-loss, I can draw a picture, and sometimes that picture is worth more than 1,000 words.

I’m so glad you made it to this website. It exists for you, for me, and for the purpose of bringing people together. For the purpose of community. I know I’ve been through a bit of struggle working on other farms, and I owe it to myself to try to create a place that is a safer and healthier work environment than a lot of the ones I experienced. To either be successful in doing that or to eat shit trying. Either way, gotta eat. Thanks for your love. I love you too.

I started this farm because I’m a dreamer looking for others who are fearless enough to dream with me too. I’ve found a good bit of you and know there are far more than who I’ve already found.

farm ethos

Farming often revolves around the word “efficiency.” While I understand its importance, I’ve seen it used to prioritize farms and businesses over the well-being of the people who work on them. Farmhands are the backbone of every farm, and farmers have a responsibility to pay them well, respect their time, and not expect them to shoulder the farmer’s responsibilities.

What’s your efficiency equation? Could it include paying for a 30-minute lunch break? Sharing surplus vegetables as food medicine? Offering flexibility for neurodivergent workers who might need extra time or accommodation? These simple changes can make farming fairer and more sustainable for everyone involved.

No small-scale farmer is rich, and we’re all working with the resources and circumstances we’ve been given. But every farm depends on the kindness of the community it serves. Supporting farmhands and making small, intentional changes is a way to give back to the people who keep the system running.

These questions don’t come from judgment but from care—a belief that our shared fears of scarcity shouldn’t isolate us from one another. Instead, they should inspire us to work together to create systems that benefit everyone, not just the bottom line.

Change is inevitable. Our power lies in choosing how that change unfolds. Together, we can create something more beautiful, more fluid, and more just, even in the face of fear or uncertainty.

It’s not about doing more; it’s about doing things differently. We don’t have to be afraid of change. By working together, we can reimagine farming practices to better serve all people. Let’s choose to make those changes—together.