Dryads, the spiritual embodiment of trees, groves, woodlands and mountain forests in Ancient Greek mythology, were believed to die along with the trees they inhabited. This trio of dryads, engulfed in the molecular symbols of greenhouse gases, stand watch over a compromised landscape of spindly, young trees they can neither bless nor protect from destructive human activities.
The title references not only the gesture of the figure, collapsed in sparse second-growth woodlands, but the collapsed economy of a region whose former industrial base contributed to the escalation of greenhouse gas emissions, and left behind polluted mill towns, widespread poverty and addiction crises when manufacturing left the region.
The artist's New England ancestors return as dryads, asleep in fragmented woodlands on former colonial pastures. These dreaming spirits, with visible bones and translucent skin, passively float among sparse second growth trees, in a woodland edged with stone wall boundaries built by colonial settlers. The eradication of indigenous cultures, whose traditional relationships with the landscape left minimal changes, and the extensive environmental disruptions that began during European settlement of the "New World" have historic consequences that collide across time with current ecological crises.