The form loses stability. The fish no longer carries the same weight. Light begins to define it more than the contour. Matter ceases to assert itself and starts to vibrate.
It does not impose itself: it appears.
It does not pose. It passes.
What remains is no longer anatomy, but the impression of its passage.
It has not yet deformed; it barely begins to dissolve.
At this point I enter into dialogue with Degas, Medardo Rosso and Camille Claudel.

Light has fractured the form. Now the pressure will come from within.