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.
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.
Now: I prepare to die consciously, without fear, living presently, until the end.
-Ryan Elisabeth Reid, 2017