We caught up with the brilliant and insightful Bunnie Reiss a few weeks ago and have shared our conversation below.

Bunnie, thanks for taking the time to share your stories with us today We’d love to hear the backstory behind a risk you’ve taken – whether big or small, walk us through what it was like and how it ultimately turned out.

I think about risk alot, or mostly the privilege I have to take risks. I have a fairly dedicated practice that includes listening to Esther Hicks regularly, and her idea of risk is so interesting. She believes the odds are always in your favor, so risk is really just an illusion. She also believes in ease with life. Not necessarily easy life, which is very different, but a kind of flow that comes from ease, and truly understanding your purpose (and stepping into it). In my opinion, flow can only really come if you are challenging yourself and taking risks.

Risk also means excepting change, and understanding it doesn’t necessarily mean it has to be a negative experience. It can certainly be uncomfortable, but being stationary and comfortable is really the death of creation. Sounds dramatic, but we live in a world of internet-drama that is just created to make us slightly detached from each other. I am part of the last generation who remembers what it’s like to grow up in a world with both the internet and no internet. The internet-drama that makes this world so complicated is that it doesn’t really exist, which in turn makes it all strangely comfortable, but also lacking a type of risk. The human condition is the risk that also makes this world complicated, and is the whole point of existence. But if you never have to actually face one another, then you’re missing the entire point of creating art in the first place.

The pandemic solidified this in a way that was astounding to be a part of and also watch from afar. The risk I take in making public art is the also risk I take in human interaction. There is an excitement in not knowing how my work will change as I create out in the world. There is a surrendering to the elements, to my body, to my mind, to every fear I have that will build this wild world that I am creating in front of me. The risk is really the trust. And the ease of understanding my purpose.

It’s worth it to be scared, be curious, and take the risk. You are the only you that exists in the world and the collective we really wants to understand. So take the risk in putting yourself out there. Don’t get too comfortable. There’s always something to explore, to understand that’s much larger than you. It will make the risk seem unrecognizable in the end.

Great, appreciate you sharing that with us. Before we ask you to share more of your insights, can you take a moment to introduce yourself and how you got to where you are today to our readers.

I grew up in Colorado from a family of immigrants who originally settled in Chicago after immigrating from Russia and Poland. Being second-generation, there is a lot of mining and a lifetime of investigation of the why/where/how they were even able to get to the United States. My work reflects much of the community I witnessed and felt growing up, the uncomfortable and loving acts of family, eastern European art and culture, history (both actual and make-believe), the stars, nature and the human condition.

Putting art in public has been a sweet spot of mine for over 20 years, as I love the experience of interacting with the vibration of different locations. There is a wonderful and free feeling of creating big and not having it stored in an attic or rolled up under a table in a studio. Murals, sculpture and mosaic are my main mediums, but I love experimenting. I believe in creating and leaving, walking away without a thought and never really seeing how people interact. It feels important and precious to put beauty in the world without expectation. I strive to keep life simple and instead spend my time investigating complex emotions. Sometimes I feel far too sensitive for this dimension and also tremendously grateful to have created a life where I am able to funnel all my emotions and physicality into large creations.

In addition to my public art practice, I have a quiet and delicate studio world. I do not show often in galleries, but love sitting for hours and hours painting or thinking. Books are always on my mind, and I hope to write and illustrate more in the future. Stickers, posters, zines and weird merchandise compliment the other parts of my brain which are usually making jokes, tapping into punk rock roots or raving until the wee hours of the morning.

I hope to keep my life free and open for however my practice develops. There so much in the world to still see and I intend to exhaust myself exploring and creating.

Is there a particular goal or mission driving your creative journey?

As I have mentioned earlier, I want to feel free and use this time here and now to be as present and prolific as humanly possible. We get one chance, so why not knock it out of the park. Figure out your purpose, don’t be afraid, take that risk and have the best time of your life. It will all pay off in the end.

We often hear about learning lessons – but just as important is unlearning lessons. Have you ever had to unlearn a lesson?

I wish I learned earlier how to not take it all so seriously! On the flipside, I feel I’m exactly where I am supposed to be. There is a comfort in knowing that even when it’s hard, it’s still working.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.bunniereiss.com
• Instagram: @bunnieluvrocks
• Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/bunniereiss/

Image Credits

For the portrait in white on the turquoise deck: Michael Slosar

For the image in front of the The Sky Rabbit’s House sculpture: Duncan Rawlinson

For the image of The Sky Rabbit’s House alone: Morgan Saunders