Shannon Slattery

I have spent the last several years painting the trees. I am drawn to the rhythm of the trunks and the rugged terrain around my summer home in Maine. I walk everyday when I am there, and the route I take brings me up and down hills and through woods. Maine is famous for its craggy coast and the ground is often uneven with granite ledge poking through the moss. Many of the trees cling to the surface, especially the white pines, which grow so straight and carpet the ground with their needles I see them as struggling to hold on, and they represent to me the connection to the earth and nature that is essential. Other times a grouping of trees, perhaps all having sprung from a single parent, huddle or march together in rows, creating a kind of visual music. As a painter I am guided by process, I apply paint by any and all means and will just as often wipe, sand or scrape the board as paint with a brush. At the intersection of drawing and painting, color line and texture are the means to describe what I see and how I connect to my environment.