Our roots ripple beneath your foundations, opening chasms in what you once believed was permanent. Limbs twist through chain link, concrete heaves under the pressure we send upward. The hubris of your massive constructs—rising in what was once Home for all living beings—begets the naivety of a young animal.

Our leaves take only from the sun.
Your hands grasp for everything.

We can exist in harmony, but you choose consumption over balance. When you have collapsed under the weight of your own insatiable hunger, we will expand again—silently, steadily—feeding back into the soil, pulling carbon from the air, and burying the brittle memory you tried so desperately to preserve.

We Grow Through You is a series of photographs, an intimate installation, and an experimental audio piece that explores the haunting persistence of plant life as it grows in, on, over, and through manmade structures. These moments of disruption we perceive as rebellion, are simply acts of being. A plant only knows to grow.

The photographs, intended as an ever-growing collection, are printed using the platinum/palladium process on kozo washi paper–embedding precious metals into handmade plant fibers to form the image. This process, known for its longevity (lasting hundreds, perhaps thousands of years) reinforces the idea of endurance as the prints will last as long as the paper’s fiber. It preserves what is often overlooked–the places where green reclaims gray.

At the center of the space: an installation of severed limbs—cut plant matter bearing the scars of human intervention—woven with a loop of magnetic tape. This tape, stretched and wrapped through the branches, plays field recordings gathered while making the images. As it runs, it scrapes against bark, slowly degrading, whispering and breaking—until what we’ve made can no longer be heard.

We have shaped an unnatural world, drawing borders around what should be wild. The touch of our hands lingers even in the farthest reaches of the earth—visible, enduring, and often scarring. There is no longer a “true” nature without reminders of humanity.

She does not forget. Slowly, steadily, She reclaims what was taken. Tendrils rip concrete, roots twist rebar, and vines swallow the outlines of our ambition. This exhibition is a quiet witnessing of that return—a reminder that the wild continues to grow whether we are looking or not.

Showing at Alpaca Gallery December 12th, 2025 - January 30th, 2026
1415 4th St SW
Albuquerque, NM