In November 2019, after being let go from my awful job and deciding to finally risk it all and become self-employed here in Switzerland, I stumbled across an article about climate research in Patagonia. I contacted the scientists and asked them if I could come to see their work. They said yes.

Then, the pandemic hit.

One year later, in autumn 2020, after my crowdfunding campaign that enabled me to finance the production of Behold The Ocean succeeded, Chile's borders opened to non-resident visitors again: I could enter the country and start working.

My initial goals were a photography book, a solo exhibition, and editorial coverage. Challenging but still in my comfort zone.

I returned from Patagonia in January 2021 to acquire more funding for the book and work toward my goals.

In August 2021, everything changed.
My father died. It was sudden and unexpected. I felt like I was drowning.

Grief is like the ocean. It comes in waves. At times, we feel like we control it, but in the end, we have to surrender to it completely.
I was terrified of the emotional abyss.

I had to pick a challenge so much bigger than myself that I could distract myself from what I was feeling by contributing to a more significant cause. My father was a software engineer in the aircraft industry, and he told me about web3 before I knew what web2 meant. In my hope to reconnect to what suddenly was gone forever and too early, Behold The Ocean found its way to the blockchain: an innovative concept to fund science powered by the NFT community and as a personal attempt to heal through my practice.