Uncut Grass

Two years ago, I stopped mowing a patch of my lawn. Just to see what would happen.

What grew was Philadelphia fleabane. A wildflower I didn't plant and didn't ask for, but immediately admired its beauty. It just showed up, because I finally got out of the way. That one plant taught me something I haven't stopped thinking about since: beauty was already there, just underground. It was waiting for me to relinquish control and leave it alone.

That philosophy became the whole point of this show.

Over the past year I've been digging deeper into Maryland ecology and plant life—as a painter, as someone training to be a Master Gardener, and as a foodscape designer. The more time I spend with plants, the more I believe they're not just scenery. They respond. They adapt. They endure. Over time, I've realized that plants are also conscious beings, and I think we have a lot to learn from them—the same way we learn from each other.

Uncut Grass is my effort to paint that. These pieces ask what happens when we stop intervening. When a lawn becomes a habitat instead of a chore. When a "weed" becomes a wildflower. When free flowers become food for bees, just because nobody pulled them out. It costs nothing to let it happen, and it gives so much back. Less lawn. More life.