A few years ago, while working on Mother’s Day gifts, my daughter and I were dividing a potted hydrangea into two. As usual, I paused mid-project to photograph the process—a habit that no longer surprises my family. But what caught me off guard that day was the stream of thoughts that followed as we worked with the roots of the plants.

I began reflecting on my fascination with photographing plants, particularly the way I capture them from ground level, immersed in their environment, surrounded by dirt and bugs and weeds. I zoom in on their stalks, trunks, and stems, tracing the connection from the roots to their blooms. I realized my interest wasn’t just in the visible beauty, but in what lies beneath—the roots.

Roots are not only what you come from. Roots can be transplanted. They can take hold where you nurture them – where you choose to plant them and where they are cultivated. They can choke you, feed you, push you upward, or hold you down. In our journeys, we can be uprooted, root-bound, rotted, drowned, and rejuvenated.

This exhibit explores the ways we can take the tiniest of beginnings and make something beautiful, vulnerable, sometimes tragic, and even meaningful. With this work, I invite viewers to reflect on the resilience and transformation that is inherent in growth and existence.