In the summer of 2015 I traveled to the Maldives to write a travel piece. I learned that the Maldives is the flattest country in the world, i.e., they have the lowest high point (lowest high point. I love this!), i.e., first to go underwater with the effects of climate change. I wanted to make a short film of some kind, wasn't sure what, I brought a GoPro camera, I am fascinated by our selfie culture. I wondered if there might be some kind of theme of self-obsession in there. The first day I arrived I mounted my camera to the nose in classic narcissistic fashion (pointed backwards, mirror-like), I paddled out to Sultans, a wave loomed, I pressed PLAY, stroked, hopped to feet, pumped, flung myself at the lip to do a floater, and like a cartoon the lip dislodged my camera (I didn't insert it properly) and it sunk to the bottom (I didn't put on the foamy float thing). I tried to find it but I couldn't. So I rode a few waves. Then I thought, 'Gotta find the thing, I traveled all this way, and I want to make some kind of film'. So I paddled to the boat, grabbed mask/snorkel/fins and went searching. After about ten minutes I found it. It had been rolling the whole time. There was like 45 mins of this wave/dislodge/raked over bottom of the sea/find footage. I passed it along to the brilliant director/editor Isabel Freeman, from NY, resides in London, editor of "Stephanie in the Water." She teased out a frame—elation, loss, back on the horse—as well as the excellent Terry Riley/Don Cherry tune. I wrote a VO script based on love and loss (my wife died suddenly three years ago). And there you have it.