I have listened to many wonderful stories told by older women.

 

Stories handed down from generation to generation by the mouth, in words, about the earth’s beginning.

 

It starts with a body.

Slowly walking.

Sun rising.

The body performing outside.

 

It is about intent.

It is about process.

It is about time.

It is about the living and the dead.

 

Each morning, I wake, I rub my cheeks.

The cycle of a new day.

 

I work with an unspectacular template: slow, silent, still, repetitive.

I work with spectacular humans: women, elders, mothers, artists.

My work makes me a researcher, a scholar of people and place.

Becoming cultural and social commentary.

I make sculpture: playful, social, reactive and interactive.

My work is vulnerability.
I listen with my body.

 

My work is made up of collected resources, rituals, and interested questions.

My work is defiance, crawling.

I only know afterwards, what it was.

 

I work with different bodies physically, psychologically, and sociologically.

I move for healing, meditation, understanding.

My work is made with the community, not for the community.

Art and life combined as one.

I watch, I perceive, I include, I ask time.

I say to myself: I am circles, I am revolutions, I am change.

Circumambulate, wise.

Now: I prepare to die consciously, without fear, living presently, until the end.

 

-Ryan Elisabeth Reid, 2017