Inari kiuru biography channel

About the Works

Eye, the beholder II, 2023
locally found discarded material, material experiments and hand-fabricated objects

Eye, the beholder, 2023
series of photographs c. 2013-2023
giglée print on archival stock

Courtesy of the artist

Eye, the beholder

I move about in my neighborhood sliced by tram tracks 
Just as I did in the forest as a child,
With the same ease; open, quiet, soft, scanning the ground 
Like a curious animal, senses keen

Foraging.

My own children, born here, are already at school
Plenty of years to learn the local pavements, Each crack, stain and spill a remembered shape in me
This kind of knowing is how a wild thing spots what’s fallen newly
- and takes it!

Walking, these instincts, older than my body.

The fragments I gather are no different 
From the treasure long ago
A leaf, torn cardboard, a pebble, some wire  
Each the only one there is.
And later at home when I arrange my harvest 
in ways that please me
I am my ancestors, again.

There’s also this (I can say at fifty, when thoughts sometimes inch towards time):

How a piece of paper gives itself to water
The way a surface rusts, and forgotten stuff merges with the ground
Freely, without hesitation, in full -
not disappearing, but becoming

This is how I, too, would like to be.

Inari Kiuru