Salt Moon


 
 

But it’s not light
You’re carrying
Said the moon

It’s water
the live weight of water
a basin you lift slowly

shift suddenly
and it’s water’s wave
that rocks you 

when it spills
not the way light spills
a rush of water

all will and habit
finds a new course and takes
everything down with it

to leave you
to collect yourself
beside a shimmering 

new body
of water-so calm
in its new bed

so light.

Tidal – Jody Gladding

 

Salt Moon started as an exploration of my own cycle(s). At the start of this year I was really struggling with powerful shifts in my emotions and moods throughout each month, moving from happy, excited and optimistic about life, to feeling extreme darkness, anxiety, paranoia and emptiness within a day. 

I had always thought I was just a sensitive, creative and intense person who experienced emotions deeply and these shifts were just how it was, but it had become exhausting and unbearable; the constant up and downs, half of the month feeling strong and confident and then half of it feeling broken.  

It wasn’t until I started tracking my menstrual cycle that I saw the patterns emerge every month.  Obviously I was aware of PMS and hormones changing affected my mood but I had no idea to what extent and how precise it was each month. I discovered that on day 11 I would feel elated and incredibly confident, on day 13 I felt nauseous, experiencing cramps and headaches as I ovulate, day 14 I crash and start to experience paranoia, panic, confusion and a deep emptiness. There were days where I could not move and sat staring in to space, feeling hopeless and like all the joy had been sucked out of my body. And then it would lift and life would be wonderful, and optimistic and light - until it happened again the next month. 

I was ‘diagnosed’ with PMDD (an abnormal reaction to the fluctuations in hormonal changes that take place during a woman’s monthly cycle), although a diagnosis can be helpful in some sense I think what was really essential for me was starting to pay attention to what was coming up and when, starting to listen to and honour the changes instead of pushing through or masking them with short term distractions. I believe that so much of what was happening for me was my body screaming ‘over here, look over here, this isn’t working and needs your attention’.

I wanted to make work that reflected this journey. I wanted to connect to a cycle with a beginning and an end, something that happened over and over again, that marked the passing of time, that offered an opportunity for pause, reflection, releasing and letting go. I decided to follow the Moon as it rose each day, starting on New Moon and following it for a full lunar cycle (although there are 26 images - the length of my cycle that month).  I photographed the sea just after moonrise, thinking about the Moon’s gravitational pull on the ocean and our bodies, at times I could see the Moons light glimmering upon the surface of the water, other times sitting on the beach with the sun setting on the right and the moon rising to my left. I photographed each day or night with a large format film camera exposing the image for between 8 minutes to 2 hours. I then washed the developed negatives in the sea, creating crystals and scratches and distortions upon the image.  In a sense it became a collaboration, the sea transforming the image as it does to me each time I submerge my body in to it.

As I write this now, looking back over my notes from the months at the start of the year, I see how much has changed. I feel the resistance has gone, there has been a softening and although this has been an incredibly challenging year, for so many reasons, it has also been one that has allowed deep healing, a slowing down and the opportunity to really tune in and listen.


This is the time to be slow,
Lie low to the wall
Until the bitter weather passes.

Try, as best you can, not to let
The wire brush of doubt
Scrape from your heart
All sense of yourself
And your hesitant light.

If you remain generous,
Time will come good;
And you will find your feet
Again on fresh pastures of promise,
Where the air will be kind
And blushed with beginning

Time to be slow ~ John O’Donohue

 
Lynda laird

Lynda Laird is a photographic artist based in St Leonards on Sea. Her research-based practice merges archive, photography, video and sound. Employing techniques, methods and materials that are sympathetic and relevant to the subject. She focuses on long-term bodies of work: primarily looking at landscape and the traces of memory in these spaces. She is interested in exploring ways of showing what is invisible to the naked eye, often employing camera less techniques and working with the materiality of specific landscapes in an attempt to bring an element or trace of its history into the work. She is currently working as the photographic artist in residence at the Royal Astronomical Society, creating a body of work based around her research in their archive focusing on 561 missing stars that a female astronomer called Caroline Herschel brought to light in the early 19th century.

www.lyndalaird.com | @_lyndalaird

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