Mari Beltrán

Series Entry 21.1


Description

Series_21

Mari Beltrán & Sanam Shahmiri

Imagine palm trees or telephone poles or patio furniture bursting through the living room window. What is the reaction when that pleasant view of the daily scenery outside, once taken for granted, invades our curated interiors? It is the provocative thought of organized and compartmentalized life: the exterior scene on the other side breaching our thin glass dividers and ubiquitous screens.

Over the flow and collage of 8 entries, Mari Beltrán (photography) and Sanam Shahmiri (poetry) take on this fragile, if increasingly familiar state of mind that confuses rapid-fire image, dream and thought to produce a kind of hypermediated and porous monotony. As Shahmiri writes at one point in series exchange, “I see the house inverted; / wallpaper glows to resemble / perfect / leaves in decay.” The common paradox of modern existence ‘moves in’ to assert that where we live becomes where we don’t. Beltrán’s constructed photography captures and creates this sense of the ‘home inverted’. Her arrangements set in drab domestic interiors feature the furnishings of what could be faded polaroid fragments from spectral childhood and explosions of tropical fruit cascades ripped from Las Vegas salad bar brochures. Absurd and implanted visions take up residence like ivy spidering up the sides and into the cracks of neighborhood brownstones. The overgrowth of organically transforming image and mediated memory into so-called private spaces leeches the tangibility from any former sense of concrete reality until, as Shahmiri distills, “Inside the walls come crashing / as we reveal / We choose to be, here”.

As the series draws toward conclusion, the digital remainders and oneiric images stickered across the stripped surfaces of empty homes cohere into a new spatial-virtual consciousness perhaps just as bored and searching as the human hosts it has now supplanted. The cycle of dissolution is simultaneously complete and renewed. Permanent limbo between inside and out results, where “thoughts like roads / move and shift in currents” to press and flatten everything in a mediated freize over which appears the words taken from an ambivalent ransom note pieced together by those kidnapped in the first place: “We were made / to be able to move / but the stillness grabs hold.”

“It Never Rains to Clean”

The bird chooses a nest

more simple.

overhanging gutter.

It never rains to clean,

 

I            wish I lived

       elsewhere.                    This            shaky house

            is pealing.

 

 

Neglect can make

ground

zero

home

of slammed doors

shudder the windows.

Bird chooses nest

and I think               they see

pressure gathering

heat & moisture

bursting, to hear:

a promise in shelter:

a hiding when we’re weak,

a retreat from cruelty,

a quietness that lets us sleep.

Inside the walls come crashing

as we reveal

We choose to be, here

what the birds choose to hear.


Sanam Shahmiri

Series Entry 21.2


Description

Series_21

Mari Beltrán & Sanam Shahmiri

Imagine palm trees or telephone poles or patio furniture bursting through the living room window. What is the reaction when that pleasant view of the daily scenery outside, once taken for granted, invades our curated interiors? It is the provocative thought of organized and compartmentalized life: the exterior scene on the other side breaching our thin glass dividers and ubiquitous screens.

Over the flow and collage of 8 entries, Mari Beltrán (photography) and Sanam Shahmiri (poetry) take on this fragile, if increasingly familiar state of mind that confuses rapid-fire image, dream and thought to produce a kind of hypermediated and porous monotony. As Shahmiri writes at one point in series exchange, “I see the house inverted; / wallpaper glows to resemble / perfect / leaves in decay.” The common paradox of modern existence ‘moves in’ to assert that where we live becomes where we don’t. Beltrán’s constructed photography captures and creates this sense of the ‘home inverted’. Her arrangements set in drab domestic interiors feature the furnishings of what could be faded polaroid fragments from spectral childhood and explosions of tropical fruit cascades ripped from Las Vegas salad bar brochures. Absurd and implanted visions take up residence like ivy spidering up the sides and into the cracks of neighborhood brownstones. The overgrowth of organically transforming image and mediated memory into so-called private spaces leeches the tangibility from any former sense of concrete reality until, as Shahmiri distills, “Inside the walls come crashing / as we reveal / We choose to be, here”.

As the series draws toward conclusion, the digital remainders and oneiric images stickered across the stripped surfaces of empty homes cohere into a new spatial-virtual consciousness perhaps just as bored and searching as the human hosts it has now supplanted. The cycle of dissolution is simultaneously complete and renewed. Permanent limbo between inside and out results, where “thoughts like roads / move and shift in currents” to press and flatten everything in a mediated freize over which appears the words taken from an ambivalent ransom note pieced together by those kidnapped in the first place: “We were made / to be able to move / but the stillness grabs hold.”


Mari Beltrán

Series Entry 21.3


Description

Series_21

Mari Beltrán & Sanam Shahmiri

Imagine palm trees or telephone poles or patio furniture bursting through the living room window. What is the reaction when that pleasant view of the daily scenery outside, once taken for granted, invades our curated interiors? It is the provocative thought of organized and compartmentalized life: the exterior scene on the other side breaching our thin glass dividers and ubiquitous screens.

Over the flow and collage of 8 entries, Mari Beltrán (photography) and Sanam Shahmiri (poetry) take on this fragile, if increasingly familiar state of mind that confuses rapid-fire image, dream and thought to produce a kind of hypermediated and porous monotony. As Shahmiri writes at one point in series exchange, “I see the house inverted; / wallpaper glows to resemble / perfect / leaves in decay.” The common paradox of modern existence ‘moves in’ to assert that where we live becomes where we don’t. Beltrán’s constructed photography captures and creates this sense of the ‘home inverted’. Her arrangements set in drab domestic interiors feature the furnishings of what could be faded polaroid fragments from spectral childhood and explosions of tropical fruit cascades ripped from Las Vegas salad bar brochures. Absurd and implanted visions take up residence like ivy spidering up the sides and into the cracks of neighborhood brownstones. The overgrowth of organically transforming image and mediated memory into so-called private spaces leeches the tangibility from any former sense of concrete reality until, as Shahmiri distills, “Inside the walls come crashing / as we reveal / We choose to be, here”.

As the series draws toward conclusion, the digital remainders and oneiric images stickered across the stripped surfaces of empty homes cohere into a new spatial-virtual consciousness perhaps just as bored and searching as the human hosts it has now supplanted. The cycle of dissolution is simultaneously complete and renewed. Permanent limbo between inside and out results, where “thoughts like roads / move and shift in currents” to press and flatten everything in a mediated freize over which appears the words taken from an ambivalent ransom note pieced together by those kidnapped in the first place: “We were made / to be able to move / but the stillness grabs hold.”

I see the house inverted;

wallpaper glows to resemble

perfect

leaves in decay,

by wood of generations past

detail, the rim of aging, the lines that do not meet,

 

a tree no one will prune or pare.

I bit the bark

sweet sap: something from outside comes in.

 

I see we are stuck in the sculpture, still

life assembled

a system of moving parts, take to trees like birds, like rabbits,

tiny animals we wish to confine,

 

raise them like our own.

kindling a fire in this house, a shrub that hides

the dirt, paths it shapes.


Sanam Shahmiri

Series Entry 21.4


Description

Series_21

Mari Beltrán & Sanam Shahmiri

Imagine palm trees or telephone poles or patio furniture bursting through the living room window. What is the reaction when that pleasant view of the daily scenery outside, once taken for granted, invades our curated interiors? It is the provocative thought of organized and compartmentalized life: the exterior scene on the other side breaching our thin glass dividers and ubiquitous screens.

Over the flow and collage of 8 entries, Mari Beltrán (photography) and Sanam Shahmiri (poetry) take on this fragile, if increasingly familiar state of mind that confuses rapid-fire image, dream and thought to produce a kind of hypermediated and porous monotony. As Shahmiri writes at one point in series exchange, “I see the house inverted; / wallpaper glows to resemble / perfect / leaves in decay.” The common paradox of modern existence ‘moves in’ to assert that where we live becomes where we don’t. Beltrán’s constructed photography captures and creates this sense of the ‘home inverted’. Her arrangements set in drab domestic interiors feature the furnishings of what could be faded polaroid fragments from spectral childhood and explosions of tropical fruit cascades ripped from Las Vegas salad bar brochures. Absurd and implanted visions take up residence like ivy spidering up the sides and into the cracks of neighborhood brownstones. The overgrowth of organically transforming image and mediated memory into so-called private spaces leeches the tangibility from any former sense of concrete reality until, as Shahmiri distills, “Inside the walls come crashing / as we reveal / We choose to be, here”.

As the series draws toward conclusion, the digital remainders and oneiric images stickered across the stripped surfaces of empty homes cohere into a new spatial-virtual consciousness perhaps just as bored and searching as the human hosts it has now supplanted. The cycle of dissolution is simultaneously complete and renewed. Permanent limbo between inside and out results, where “thoughts like roads / move and shift in currents” to press and flatten everything in a mediated freize over which appears the words taken from an ambivalent ransom note pieced together by those kidnapped in the first place: “We were made / to be able to move / but the stillness grabs hold.”


Mari Beltrán

Series Entry 21.5


Description

Series_21

Mari Beltrán & Sanam Shahmiri

Imagine palm trees or telephone poles or patio furniture bursting through the living room window. What is the reaction when that pleasant view of the daily scenery outside, once taken for granted, invades our curated interiors? It is the provocative thought of organized and compartmentalized life: the exterior scene on the other side breaching our thin glass dividers and ubiquitous screens.

Over the flow and collage of 8 entries, Mari Beltrán (photography) and Sanam Shahmiri (poetry) take on this fragile, if increasingly familiar state of mind that confuses rapid-fire image, dream and thought to produce a kind of hypermediated and porous monotony. As Shahmiri writes at one point in series exchange, “I see the house inverted; / wallpaper glows to resemble / perfect / leaves in decay.” The common paradox of modern existence ‘moves in’ to assert that where we live becomes where we don’t. Beltrán’s constructed photography captures and creates this sense of the ‘home inverted’. Her arrangements set in drab domestic interiors feature the furnishings of what could be faded polaroid fragments from spectral childhood and explosions of tropical fruit cascades ripped from Las Vegas salad bar brochures. Absurd and implanted visions take up residence like ivy spidering up the sides and into the cracks of neighborhood brownstones. The overgrowth of organically transforming image and mediated memory into so-called private spaces leeches the tangibility from any former sense of concrete reality until, as Shahmiri distills, “Inside the walls come crashing / as we reveal / We choose to be, here”.

As the series draws toward conclusion, the digital remainders and oneiric images stickered across the stripped surfaces of empty homes cohere into a new spatial-virtual consciousness perhaps just as bored and searching as the human hosts it has now supplanted. The cycle of dissolution is simultaneously complete and renewed. Permanent limbo between inside and out results, where “thoughts like roads / move and shift in currents” to press and flatten everything in a mediated freize over which appears the words taken from an ambivalent ransom note pieced together by those kidnapped in the first place: “We were made / to be able to move / but the stillness grabs hold.”

Sometimes I forget the origin of bones. Heavy like furniture,

I sit on the hard pine floor collecting, disturbing

memories that burn my carpet skin. I try to build a home—

den of fractures, scabby elbows skinned,

knees skimmed.  I learned the meaning of risk—

skating the light of afternoons, playing for yards

whose boundaries never shook.

I fell, the scars still speaking,

reminding me to remove

at the bottom of that slippery slope: bare bone dreams

holding me upright, the imaginary embrace of light.


Sanam Shahmiri

Series Entry 21.6


Description

Series_21

Mari Beltrán & Sanam Shahmiri

Imagine palm trees or telephone poles or patio furniture bursting through the living room window. What is the reaction when that pleasant view of the daily scenery outside, once taken for granted, invades our curated interiors? It is the provocative thought of organized and compartmentalized life: the exterior scene on the other side breaching our thin glass dividers and ubiquitous screens.

Over the flow and collage of 8 entries, Mari Beltrán (photography) and Sanam Shahmiri (poetry) take on this fragile, if increasingly familiar state of mind that confuses rapid-fire image, dream and thought to produce a kind of hypermediated and porous monotony. As Shahmiri writes at one point in series exchange, “I see the house inverted; / wallpaper glows to resemble / perfect / leaves in decay.” The common paradox of modern existence ‘moves in’ to assert that where we live becomes where we don’t. Beltrán’s constructed photography captures and creates this sense of the ‘home inverted’. Her arrangements set in drab domestic interiors feature the furnishings of what could be faded polaroid fragments from spectral childhood and explosions of tropical fruit cascades ripped from Las Vegas salad bar brochures. Absurd and implanted visions take up residence like ivy spidering up the sides and into the cracks of neighborhood brownstones. The overgrowth of organically transforming image and mediated memory into so-called private spaces leeches the tangibility from any former sense of concrete reality until, as Shahmiri distills, “Inside the walls come crashing / as we reveal / We choose to be, here”.

As the series draws toward conclusion, the digital remainders and oneiric images stickered across the stripped surfaces of empty homes cohere into a new spatial-virtual consciousness perhaps just as bored and searching as the human hosts it has now supplanted. The cycle of dissolution is simultaneously complete and renewed. Permanent limbo between inside and out results, where “thoughts like roads / move and shift in currents” to press and flatten everything in a mediated freize over which appears the words taken from an ambivalent ransom note pieced together by those kidnapped in the first place: “We were made / to be able to move / but the stillness grabs hold.”


Mari Beltrán

Series Entry 21.7


Description

Series_21

Mari Beltrán & Sanam Shahmiri

Imagine palm trees or telephone poles or patio furniture bursting through the living room window. What is the reaction when that pleasant view of the daily scenery outside, once taken for granted, invades our curated interiors? It is the provocative thought of organized and compartmentalized life: the exterior scene on the other side breaching our thin glass dividers and ubiquitous screens.

Over the flow and collage of 8 entries, Mari Beltrán (photography) and Sanam Shahmiri (poetry) take on this fragile, if increasingly familiar state of mind that confuses rapid-fire image, dream and thought to produce a kind of hypermediated and porous monotony. As Shahmiri writes at one point in series exchange, “I see the house inverted; / wallpaper glows to resemble / perfect / leaves in decay.” The common paradox of modern existence ‘moves in’ to assert that where we live becomes where we don’t. Beltrán’s constructed photography captures and creates this sense of the ‘home inverted’. Her arrangements set in drab domestic interiors feature the furnishings of what could be faded polaroid fragments from spectral childhood and explosions of tropical fruit cascades ripped from Las Vegas salad bar brochures. Absurd and implanted visions take up residence like ivy spidering up the sides and into the cracks of neighborhood brownstones. The overgrowth of organically transforming image and mediated memory into so-called private spaces leeches the tangibility from any former sense of concrete reality until, as Shahmiri distills, “Inside the walls come crashing / as we reveal / We choose to be, here”.

As the series draws toward conclusion, the digital remainders and oneiric images stickered across the stripped surfaces of empty homes cohere into a new spatial-virtual consciousness perhaps just as bored and searching as the human hosts it has now supplanted. The cycle of dissolution is simultaneously complete and renewed. Permanent limbo between inside and out results, where “thoughts like roads / move and shift in currents” to press and flatten everything in a mediated freize over which appears the words taken from an ambivalent ransom note pieced together by those kidnapped in the first place: “We were made / to be able to move / but the stillness grabs hold.”

Currents

 

Placed at the boundary of this hybrid world

we no longer get outside and into

 

imaginary. Our-selves—,

separate, unequal. Both

worlds require appendages we give up,

drop off, too heavy

what we can accomplish.

 

A bus driver once told me:

be like a buoy anchored on the shore—

some day the tides will take us

home. I gather

 

the elements like water,

strive to shape them into sensical form.

The plans we carve

into our conscious minds

but life is a wave constantly redirecting.

 

In detours, constructing,

our thoughts like roads

move and shift in currents, invisible forces.

In this current

absence, fills

us until we are

as solitude to surroundings.

We were made to be able to move

but the stillness grabs hold.


Sanam Shahmiri

Series Entry 21.8


Description

Series_21

Mari Beltrán & Sanam Shahmiri

Imagine palm trees or telephone poles or patio furniture bursting through the living room window. What is the reaction when that pleasant view of the daily scenery outside, once taken for granted, invades our curated interiors? It is the provocative thought of organized and compartmentalized life: the exterior scene on the other side breaching our thin glass dividers and ubiquitous screens.

Over the flow and collage of 8 entries, Mari Beltrán (photography) and Sanam Shahmiri (poetry) take on this fragile, if increasingly familiar state of mind that confuses rapid-fire image, dream and thought to produce a kind of hypermediated and porous monotony. As Shahmiri writes at one point in series exchange, “I see the house inverted; / wallpaper glows to resemble / perfect / leaves in decay.” The common paradox of modern existence ‘moves in’ to assert that where we live becomes where we don’t. Beltrán’s constructed photography captures and creates this sense of the ‘home inverted’. Her arrangements set in drab domestic interiors feature the furnishings of what could be faded polaroid fragments from spectral childhood and explosions of tropical fruit cascades ripped from Las Vegas salad bar brochures. Absurd and implanted visions take up residence like ivy spidering up the sides and into the cracks of neighborhood brownstones. The overgrowth of organically transforming image and mediated memory into so-called private spaces leeches the tangibility from any former sense of concrete reality until, as Shahmiri distills, “Inside the walls come crashing / as we reveal / We choose to be, here”.

As the series draws toward conclusion, the digital remainders and oneiric images stickered across the stripped surfaces of empty homes cohere into a new spatial-virtual consciousness perhaps just as bored and searching as the human hosts it has now supplanted. The cycle of dissolution is simultaneously complete and renewed. Permanent limbo between inside and out results, where “thoughts like roads / move and shift in currents” to press and flatten everything in a mediated freize over which appears the words taken from an ambivalent ransom note pieced together by those kidnapped in the first place: “We were made / to be able to move / but the stillness grabs hold.”