Being is Distributed into Myriad Objects (Shark Eggs), Peckham. January 2016- March 2017.
Shark-egg cases are deposited in pairs on the sea floor, and the hatchling catsharks are believed to emerge within 9 months. Their tendrils tether them to reliable anchors to stop them from floating away into the ocean. (When I was sixteen I had a waking-dream that a child from the future put it’s arms around my neck. I’m waiting for a dream about the eggs as automata which crawl sideways on their tendrils at night and suffocate me gently over a number of hours). They remind me of a wedding tradition I read about once in which a knot is ritually untangled to ease childbirth (remember that religion is not a metaphysical system, but a practice of ritual activity). I’m convinced that ending up on the beach is part of the birthing process and that their coils become relaxed to ease their labour (passing of yolk). As a result they are carried away, empty, and thrown up onto the shore where they become objects handled and devices constructed. A few weeks later he told me to open my legs and in certain lights and frames of mind the egg cases are happy headless figures with bellies full of air and limbs intertwined (ritually slack, ritually slack. Being is distributed into myriad objects.)
(To be also understood alongside the short story: It will End up in the Sea)
They came out of the sea on Christmas eve. There had been a long period of bad weather, the cliffs were coming down faster than usual and a couple of days previously someone’s dog had been crushed by the falling, sodden earth. The wind, as well, had whipped the sea high up the beach dragging with it previously unseen things, mineral vegetable and animal, from the underbelly of the sea.
I found the first egg high up on Chesil beach where the pebbles meet the marsh. It was tiny and perfect, and I held it in my cold pink hand for a moment before wrapping it in a tissue and putting it in my pocket. Over the next few days they revealed themselves amongst the shifting shingle and I collected them carefully. At home I put them all in a jar of salted water and stored them in the downstairs toilet where the coats were kept.
What are those? He asked straight after he came.
Shark eggs.
Where did you find them?
On the beach.
What are you going to do with them?
I don’t know yet.
He walked over to the toilet. I heard the condom snap and the toilet flush.
Why did you flush it? I said. It will end up in the sea.
Shark eggs.
Where did you find them?
On the beach.
What are you going to do with them?
I don’t know yet.
He walked over to the toilet. I heard the condom snap and the toilet flush.
Why did you flush it? I said. It will end up in the sea.
