To her friend Robin Winters, Kiki Smith said:

I don’t think my work is particularly about art. It’s really about me, being here in this life, in this skin. I’m cannibalizing my own experience, my surroundings.

Clearly this is true, but after looking at her work for 30 years, what do I know about her? Nothing personal. I know she appreciates animals both real and mythic, and that she thinks of fairy tales as a mother lode from which she extracts a mutable range of meanings.

In the 1970s, feminism was for her decisive. Through its lens she became an artist. Whatever it is that the official art world rejected, she embraced: (more) 

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