A few species of sloths are critically endangered in regions of Brazil and Panama, where habitat loss, climate change, and human conflict threaten their survival. Development brings electric lines and vehicles that cause electrocution and road fatalities, while logging destroys vital shelter and food sources. Conservation groups are working to raise awareness, monitor populations with radio collars, and advocate for sustainable practices.

This painting was inspired by a recent trip to a Costa Rican rainforest, where thousands of sloths are beloved and largely protected, not currently at risk. Though sloths are usually solitary—coming together only for mating or while raising their young—I chose to depict a family nestled in the canopy as a symbol of unity and protection. These creatures are extraordinary: they breed only once every three years, move four times faster in water than on land, and host entire ecosystems of moths and algae in their fur. It takes them about a month to digest a single leaf, which is why they descend from the treetops only once a week to defecate—an act that leaves them vulnerable to predators. Three-toed sloths can even swivel their heads 270 degrees, a quiet marvel of adaptation.

As with much of my work, the final process involves carefully placing symbols that weave together cultures, objects, and moments in time. These clusters become my way of seeking balance—within the piece and within myself—in the midst of a chaotic world. The work becomes a visual prayer, distilling complexity into a hopeful narrative of harmony and connection.

Canopy Central shines a light on sloths: a call to witness both their strengths and vulnerabilities, and a reminder that conservation efforts must be ongoing if species like these are to endure. My use of color honors the vibrant regions of Central and South America they inhabit—places rich in cultural diversity and shaped by the deep layers of Indigenous heritage, European colonial history, and African diaspora.