Sage was born out of gratitude — for the land beneath our feet, the people who shape our days, and the quiet wisdom we only hear when life finally slows down. I don’t have all the answers, and I don’t believe any one person, discipline, or tradition does. What I do believe is this: when we listen to each other — builders and artists, gardeners and engineers, people of faith and people of doubt — we begin to see the world more clearly.

My work is rooted in curiosity, stewardship, and humility. I try to move gently. I try to learn from mistakes. I try to leave places better than I found them. Sometimes that means fixing drainage and soil problems. Sometimes it means designing spaces where families gather, children explore, or neighbors reconnect. Sometimes it simply means showing up, paying attention, and doing the next honest thing.

I’m grateful for every project because each one is really a relationship — with people, with land, with time. Sage isn’t just a service. It’s an invitation to build thoughtfully, to restore what’s been neglected, and to imagine futures that include all of us.

We come from different backgrounds, beliefs, and stories — and that diversity is our strength. Here, everyone has something to teach. Everyone belongs at the table. And the work ahead isn’t mine alone — it’s ours.

My hope is that Sage becomes a living conversation: a place where ideas grow, communities flourish, and we keep discovering better ways to care for each other and the world we share.

Thank you for being part of the journey. We’re just getting started — and what we create next, we create together.