the flowerkeeper
A short documentary about determination, authenticity, community, and our connection to the planet. Filmed in Myakka, Florida, it explores the poetry of seasons, the labor of sustainable farming, and the power of choosing meaningful, small-scale living in the face of a changing world.
"There's always more life. The flower is this peak moment of beauty and nature, the pinnacle right before it’s fertilized and dies back.
It's a snapshot of life and abundance… and then the whole cycle happens again."
— Sophie, Mindful Blooms Farm
What began as a simple portrait of a small farm and the person who tends it has grown into a meditation on purpose, resilience, and the quiet power of choosing beauty in uncertain times. The Flowerkeeper is a short documentary I’ve been lovingly tending since August 2024, much like the seasonal blooms it captures. It follows a Florida flower farmer through an entire growing season: a year of storms, soil, and sweat.
This film holds up a mirror to the life many of us crave: rooted in purpose, aligned with nature, built on something deeper than profit or speed.
We need stories like this now, before we forget how to live them. This film invites audiences to reconnect with what sustains us: land, purpose, and the quiet courage it takes to live in alignment with both. In seeing Sophie create beauty out of uncertainty, we are reminded: we can, too.
If you’ve ever planted a seed, started over, or stood in a field and felt small, yet so massively connected...
This story is for you.
a story that matters.
I’m a filmmaker who specializes in poetic nonfiction: stories that unfold gently and linger long after their final frame. I make films that transform and uplift improbable protagonists: freshwater mussels, an unconventional ballerina in Baltimore, a talking Yucca, to name a few.
So when I met Sophie, I immediately recognized another kind of unlikely hero. Her life is quietly revolutionary: building a business rooted in care, resisting industrial norms, and choosing to grow beauty, season by season, in a world that moves too fast. Her farm, like this film, is a labor of love. Neither came easy. But both are acts of devotion. To nature, to community, to a slower and more intentional way of living.
That's what I do, too.
I make films with my own two hands. Not because it’s easier, but because it allows me to listen more deeply, respond more quickly, feel the story move through space and time. Working solo means I can move slowly, intimately, and with intention. It means I can spend a sunrise barefoot in a field, waiting for the exact right light. It means I can earn trust gently, and let real stories unfold on their own time.
Without the pressure of a big crew or rushed production schedule, I’m able to create films that are more luminant, more personal, and more attuned to the emotional rhythm of the people and places I’m documenting. It’s not fast or loud, but it is real.
And that, like The Flowerkeeper's, is the kind of story I want to tell.