Erosion and decay
James Harlow, UK
@jamesharlowart
studio@jamesharlow.com
The Body Learns the Sea positions design within ecological time by operationalising a Temporal Commons across the intertidal ecotones of Loch Craignish and Melfort. Through tidal mapping and site‑indexed material probes (kelp‑alginate films, eelgrass‑fibre papers) informed by low‑/multi‑trophic aquaculture, it delivers time‑attentive, place‑based methods and protocols for coastal restoration
Design frequently proceeds on institutional schedules that diverge from ecological time. This project reframes time as a shared medium of action, a Temporal Commons, within which species, materials, infrastructures and policies co‑inhabit shifting coastal conditions.
Centred on Loch Craignish and Melfort on Scotland’s west coast, the research asks how design practice can be calibrated to the periodicities of littoral systems and what methods enable designers to work within those temporal constraints.
Empirical work concentrates on intertidal ecotones where saltmarshes, seagrass meadows and nearshore kelp forests intersect. Field methods combine tidal mapping of inundation and exposure during high and low tides, transects running from marsh scarp across mud and seagrass to the shallow kelp fringe, edge‑focused observations at the upper limit of eelgrass and along marsh margins, and repeated returns under varied meteorological conditions with time‑stamped notes, photographs and material samples. These protocols foreground change over duration and render the coast as overlapping temporal fields rather than a fixed boundary between land and sea.
In parallel, the project develops a situated material practice. Kelp from Laminaria and Saccharina spp. is processed to extract sodium alginate and cast into thin films, and strandline eelgrass (Zostera marina) is pulped into fibre sheets using low‑energy, manual techniques. The resulting artefacts are deliberately water‑responsive and biodegradable. Their behaviour (swelling, warping, staining, embrittlement and dissolution under saline exposure) serves as a register of environmental conditions and process choices. Each piece acts as a temporal probe that can be read, compared and discussed with local stewards and scientists, bridging qualitative observation and material evidence.
The design framework draws on low‑ and multi‑trophic aquaculture operating in the region, in which seaweeds and shellfish are cultivated together as regenerative infrastructure for nutrient uptake, water clarification, habitat provision and livelihoods. By analogy, interventions are conceived as multi‑functional and interdependent, integrating with existing trophic relationships and timescales rather than imposing rigid, single‑purpose structures.
The research process itself is organised through a six‑part sequence (immersion, transformation, drift, dissolution, return, wake) adapted from an accompanying poetic work. This arc anchors progression from direct field engagement (immersion), through conversion of observations into material and conceptual work (transformation), allowance for contingency and circulation of ideas and artefacts (drift), deliberate letting‑go and decay (dissolution), iterative re‑engagement with sites and partners (return) and the methodological residue that persists as protocols and principles (wake). The structure functions as a scaffold for inquiry and evaluation, not as illustration.
Findings are articulated as strategies, prototypes, and protocols. First, temporal design strategies specify how to align actions with tidal windows, seasonal cues and successional stages, and how to extend project horizons beyond typical policy and funding cycles to match ecological recovery. Second, the alginate films, eelgrass papers and cyanotype text‑prints (made with site water and coastal light) operate as situated prototypes for dialogue about lifespan, decay and site specificity. Their controlled ephemerality makes temporal trade‑offs legible to stakeholders. Third, speculative protocols support intertidal engagement: citizen tidal walks coordinated to spring tides; seasonal material readings of strandline assemblages, and time audits that compare proposed schedules with ecological pacing.
III. Where the Breath Meets the Water
I wade into midnight water,
leaving the shore behind.
A first wave wraps around my waist-
a cold shock, a forgotten welcome.
Salt floods my tongue and lungs;
the ocean enters me.
Each step surrenders;
sand yields underfoot,
drawing me from land.
I inhale stars mirrored in brine;
my heart beats slow and thunderous.
Bubbles rise from my lips,
each a word I cannot keep;
language dissolves into a prayer the water keeps.
My chest aches as if gills are opening;
my body recalls fins and scales,
how to breathe water like air.
For a moment I can’t tell
if I am drowning
or being delivered slick with salt.
Under the moon’s pull, I hang between two skies-
a creature of neither and both.
IV. Where the Body Comes Apart
Far below, where light surrenders,
I descend beyond sound
into a blue that knows no morning.
Currents unspool my form
into ribbons of self,
drifting apart.
Flesh becomes foam,
bone dissolves to salt-
I become the myth of water.
No witness, no gull, no god-
only the sea holding me
in cold, indifferent grace.
My words drown; my name is scoured away.
All I was melts into the tide,
an offering to endlessness.
Yet in vanishing, I am whole.
Weightless and voiceless,
the ocean dreams through me-
a slow dream of coral and brine.
What remains is neither breath nor cry,
only a current carrying
the memory that wore my name.
VI. Where the Tide Lets Go
Dawn.
I stand at the shore, a pilgrim,
my feet kissed by retreating foam.
The ocean opens its mouth
in a low chant of waves.
This is the ceremony of return:
salt wind and sunrise intertwined.
Each morning, the world is remade,
rinsing away yesterday.
The sea offers itself again,
and we answer—
ankles rimmed with first light,
salt bright on the tongue.
In the tide’s wake,
I have been witness and drowned,
giver and offering.
Now water moves in me,
a pulse of tide in my blood.
I rise with the swells
and fall with the light,
part of an endless liturgy.
Even as I dissolve into morning air,
I remain
salt on the breeze,
breath in the waves.
In this ritual of vanishing and return,
nothing is lost.
The horizon remembers every soul
it has embraced.
Somewhere beyond sight,
another pilgrim wades into the water;
the faithful sea rises to meet her.