Every mark feels structural, and her paintings demonstrate the discipline of someone accustomed to working at a precise scale, where decisions are irreversible and surfaces must earn their complexity—meaning they are not gestures of mood but are records of decisions, resistance, revision and the consequence of process.  Splatters are not exuberant; they are measured risks.  Compositions are held together by proportion and counterweight. 

Her work is not that of a jewelry designer turning to painting. It is mature cross-disciplinary work in which the intelligence of object making—construction, restraint, finish—has been carried into a larger pictorial field. Her painting Babes, for example, exhibits an architectural logic: the composition is modular and sectional, built from stacked and abutted rectangular fields. Red dominates, but not arbitrarily; it is weight-bearing, functioning as mass against which black, white, and scraped metallic tones assert resistance. Scored lines, etched marks, and stitched-like linear motifs recall the acts of scribing metal, piercing sheet, or testing stress lines—procedures familiar to a metalsmith rather than a painter. Areas of abrasion expose underlayers, like patina breaking through a finished surface.

Sloan’s work is abstraction as assembly: coherence constructed from parts, the process of fabrication, and the incremental development of surface finishes together impart a unified logic.

Sloan is not a jewelry designer who also paints, but a maker whose core inclinations, material discipline, structural clarity, and tactile intelligence translate across scale and medium.