i. ( )
At the capelin roll: the en masse movement of capelin is awaited at the shore by equal masses of people, mostly there to watch death, without the fish knowing.
ii. a capelin and its ghost
Ghost nets capture and make carcasses into new ghosts as they move slowly through water-space. The line where a decomposing fish turns into a husk, turns into a ghost, turns into the movement of another passing fish.
iii. ghosts watching / watching ghosts
Fish sleep in winter; a softening cradle of a season. Their ghosts rest until the next crashing. Ghost and ghost of a ghost.
iv. skins shield
I dreamed: five fishermen were near a shore, their indistinct laughter and chatter suddenly went silent as they turned all at once toward the ocean and lifted up out of the water shields made of strung-together fish skin. The scales glinted and the fishermen swayed in the water, shifting in the waves in silence, holding the shields in front of them. Scales as both protection and, in just a glint of gesture, lure.
A net being woven larger while already in use; if you lose your place, follow lines in stones until your fingers return to familiar thread.
vi. eight mountain whitefish looking at a trammel net
They will know your absence if you stop arriving.
The speed of a dried fish thrown through the air, and how it moves more slowly than it might through water. How is the same movement, brought out of water, made clunky and dangerously slow, like hearing a recording of your voice that you can’t imagine yourself within?