When we were very young, my sister and I were exposed to an excessive amount of bathing. This routine was imposed on us by my Grandmother, but the exact reason why has never been clear. She moved in with us when we were quite young and almost immediately began to bathe us daily. At first the baths consisted of a quick scrubbing – which she’d administer - followed by an enthusiastic toweling off, all the while being entertained by her singing - the whole routine lasting no more than ten minutes. Quickly however,  the ritual began to evolve: the scrubbing becoming less and less frequent, the water depths growing higher and higher and the old woman’s entertainment coming less from song and more from long winded monologues and lectures.

My Grandmother was a small, well mannered woman, almost meek and very stoic; any suffering was to be done in silence. Yet once the door to that bathroom was closed she grew to ten times her size, her chest stuck out like a rocket and her voice took on the depth of a God. My sister and I would sit, our bodies submerged to our necks, staring wide eyed as this imposing force paced back and forth in front of us muttering obscenities while jerking her body in awkward positions. Sometimes she’d stamp up and down, other times she would bang her head against the wall.

Ripples of light reflect across the room, it is night and throughout the lab all is quiet. The only sign of life, a pair of eyes staring out from the murky depths of the brine filled tank. Dr. Eugene Pillay, has just started his new job.

Slowly we recognized a pattern to her talks, notably; Tuesdays were always very perverted while Thursdays and Fridays were usually calmer, often containing general observations on life with no more than a handful of obscenities. The weekends were all politics and varied from great excitement to furious rage. There were never any discussions.

It all ended after two years when my Grandmother died of gangrene. Apparently she had cut her leg months before but didn’t want to bother anyone…it was almost admirable to hear her apologies to any inconvenience this might have caused long after they’d laid her casket in the ground.

As for us kids, I don’t believe either of us ever really thought about it much after that. But a few weeks into the editing of this film, I saw a connection and was stunned by the funny ways the subconscious gets it out.