In the beginning there was the Taos Mountain humming, looming over pueblo, over the Mabel Dodge House. Then there were Redwood trees holding, reaching, calling home from their heights, calling home from roots to crown.
There was grandmother, making dances on the deck beneath those trees.
There was grandfather, building gardens, earth, plant, water, rock.
Here I became aware of making art.
My grandfather told me to look, not down at the paper, but out there, at the landscape. My grandmother told me to look, not out there, but to feel, inside the body.
The mystery I find here is visceral, ephemeral.
I make paintings from this place, in an attempt to put together parts that make up the whole. They are esoteric, internal landscapes.
I call them body maps.
- Ruthanna Hopper