Artist Kathy Ruttenberg lives at the end of a long road up a mountain, and at dusk it’s easy to miss the small sign off the main road. By the time I find her place, it’s dark, and all that are visible are the lit doorways of two adjacent buildings, each painted to resemble a jungle of blooming flowers, framing a glass door, as dark as a fish tank, over which snake gnarly branches. In the shadows I can make out a giant-head planter, sculpted animal heads positioned like trophies atop the expansive wooden fence and a . . .
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