Samera Paz is your typical art student; she experiments with different mediums and styles, trying to discover her identity. Paz uses a very personal medium: her blood, her menses. The "Menstrala" series is intentionally unashamed with each piece different from the last, one, a monochromatic Jackson Pollock-inspired canvas of deep crimson, another a simple scattering of red ink-like splotches. The series’ original intent was to normalise periods by releasing the societal shame surrounding them. Its meaning developed when Paz uploaded images on Twitter. The responses were violent, sexist and racist, littered with a rare message of support. By retweeting each reaction, she redefined the series as a social media experiment that was dictated by the onlooker.

 

"Menstrala", the term describing a small contemporary art movement using menstrual blood as the medium, was first coined in 2000 by Vanessa Tiegs after she created a series using her menses. With roots grounded in the Women’s Liberation movement of the 70s, it has seen a recent surge in popularity. This new wave is said to be due to a new generation of web-obsessed millennials who are exposed daily to a plethora of artists and images with a feminist message.

 

Instagram has come under fire from campaign groups like #freethenipple and felt the wrath of many women for deleting photos that feature menses. A petty issue to some, but the site has become an indispensable tool for most artists to get seen in this web-centric era. Rupi Kaur posted a photo of a woman; her sister lying in a bed, in sweatpants and a baggy tee with a dash of blood on the bed sheet and the trousers. It was deleted twice for breaching Instagram’s community standards. Similarly, photographer Harley Weir’s account was deleted due to a photo of a model (with her modesty pixelated), her legs slightly apart revealing a smear of blood on her inner thigh. Instagram later apologised and reactivated her account. This sensitivity and censorship around women’s natural bodily functions on one of the most popular photo-sharing social network is a cause for concern. Kaur added how the app is full of accounts filled to the brim with objectified and pornified images of women, which Instagram seems to be more than happy to feature.

 

From the Ancient Egyptians to the Chinese Taoists, menstrual blood was widely used in rituals in the ancient world including many ceremonies revolving around women’s monthly cycle. Many of these ancient cultures separated women during their period and restricted them from duties, encouraging them to spend time listening to their inner voices. What began as encouragement later regressed to ostracising women for their bodily functions.

 

Many passages in the Bible highlight how women on their periods were considered unclean. “Leviticus 15:24 If a man has sexual relations with her and her monthly flow touches him, he will be unclean for seven days; any bed he lies on will be unclean.” This shame and this belief of contamination is still present in modern day religion. For example, most Muslims and Jews believe women should not pray or enter religious buildings whilst menstruating, as they are considered dirty. This archaic assessment by two very patriarchal religions seems out of place in a western society, but while some people’s opinions are still shaped and dictated by religion, it’s understandable how this element of shame is still within people’s psyche today.

 

For some women, periods aren’t just something they can ignore with the help of an ibuprofen and a tampon. For some, periods alter the course of their lives for the worse. A UNICEF report estimated that as many as 61 per cent of girls in Uganda miss, or drop out of school due to lack of access to sanitary towels, as they are hard to access and even harder to afford. Along with this there are the psychological effects of embarrassment and shame felt when purchasing these products, as well as what happens to the girls when they can’t access them. This is why period art is so important; it attempts to smash the shame that surrounds them.

 

"At the end of the day it’s only a bit of blood, and the sooner we can get over that the sooner we can get onto more pressing issues"

 

Casey Jenkins, a Melbourne-based artist was inundated with rape and death threats after a news segment on her performance piece went viral. The piece lasted 28 days, intending to dispel the warped and misogynistic views about menstruation. She sat nude from the waist down knitting from wool that had been inserted into her vaginal tunnel. After this violent backlash, Jenkins responded in a similar manner to Paz: she trawled through thousands of comments documenting the different responses she received. Jenkins programmed a knitting machine to digitally reproduce the reactions in yarn that had been partially dyed by her menstrual blood. The machine was intended to represent the mechanical nature of the commenters and their reactions.

 

"Menstrala" artists do not appear to be fazed by the racist, misogynistic comments and threats made against them but instead seem motivated by them. Their pieces of work have become social experiments and illustrate that this art form is necessary to aid normalisation of something that is in fact normal. At the end of the day it’s only a bit of blood, and the sooner we can get over that the sooner we can get onto more pressing issues.