I was shooting for a hospitality client off the arctic coast of Svalbard during late winter, thirty-foot seas,100-foot cliffs. A gust of wind blew me and my gear into the drink. I swam to shore, sutured up the gash in my ass, hiked to the van, got new gear, finished the shoot. At least that’s what I remember of it. The medics said technically I was dead for thirty minutes from hypothermia when they found me frozen to the side of the snowcat. So I’m foggy on parts. But I’m good with narratives, so filling in the blanks is easy. I’m also good at telling my clinet’s story. Frozen-arctic good.