I don’t design for curb appeal.

I design for the quiet moment when someone steps into a space and doesn’t want to leave.

I take on one project at a time—not for exclusivity’s sake, but because sacred work deserves presence. It needs full attention. Devotion. That’s what you get here.

Some of my work for clients is design-only, where I guide each project from first sketch to final bloom—creating a vision that feels rooted, personal, and true to the land. For some clients, where the connection feels effortless and aligned, I offer complete installation and project oversight. But I choose those projects with care, so I can stay close to what matters: the integrity of the work.

This isn’t about trend. It’s not about scale.

It’s about meaning. It’s about beauty you grow into—not something you force. I begin by listening—deeply. To the light. To the land. To your story, and what isn’t being said.

The right garden is more than beautiful. It speaks. It holds. It remembers.

If you’re not looking for the ordinary—welcome. You’ve found something else entirely.

The Grass Girl began the way all real things do: slowly, with my hands in the dirt and my eyes trained on something deeper.

I grew up in Wilson County, Tennessee, with dogs underfoot and dirt under my fingernails. My grandfather was a farmer—a man who knew how to grow things. From him I learned to pay attention: to the light, to the soil, to the long game.

Later, I studied and obtained a master’s degree in fine art. And for a while, I thought that would be my path. But eventually, I returned to the earth—not just to design beautiful gardens, but to create spaces that feel like art. Places that hold emotion. That invite stillness. That reflect what someone values most.

I don’t do mass design. I don’t do ego-led landscaping.

I design gardens that feel like soul-made spaces. Some are intimate and wild. Some are structured and grand. But all of them are shaped with intention—rooted in care, and built to endure.

I live on a farm outside Nashville, surrounded by trees, silence, and dogs. I travel for the right work. I partner with an incredible installation team when the fit is just right. But mostly—I design.

My favorite clients are the ones who want more than pretty.

They want poetry.

They want peace.

They want a garden that knows them.

If you’re seeking a space that looks like nowhere else, and feels like home in a way you’ve never known—I’d be honored to design it.

The Grass Girl is a name that was born from a deeply meaningful place.

My first-ever clients, Gerry and his wife, Lisa, welcomed me into their home to work on the gardens Gerry had lovingly cultivated for decades. As I worked on their garden, I formed a close bond with them—especially Gerry, who had hydrocephalus and was severely affected by strokes. Gerry had difficulty recalling my name—but he always recognized me working in the garden. With a smile, he would call me “The Grass Girl.” That simple, heartfelt name stuck, and it became more than just a title—it became the foundation of my journey.

While many assume The Grass Girl implies lawncare (and I still get the occasional inquiry about turf and trimming!), what I do goes far beyond that. I don’t just trim grass—I shape gardens. I craft spaces that are personal, meaningful, and reflective of the people who live there. My work is about designing living landscapes that tell stories and honor the land.

Gerry’s words have stayed with me, serving as a constant reminder of why I do what I do: to create spaces that are rooted in memory, connection, and a deep respect for the earth.

The name The Grass Girl will never change because it represents that first garden I worked on with Gerry—and all the lessons I've carried with me since. It’s more than a business; it’s a legacy—a name filled with heart, connection, and the purpose that drives everything I do.