The Man Who Makes Noodles

Who works for the captain

Here I sit, for respite from electionyearing… An old man who has never worked on a movie set, yet. This is my dream. Not the set, no. Imagining a set, with a man making noodles on it, for us. You and me, that be. We, us creatives, have found a whale to finance our vision, and we have a screen play already written:

I fund a noodle maker from anywhere, to make noodles for us while we make a picture, together. Of course, I care where, but not so much as other yet to be imagined details. I fund the noodle maker, because I imagine him to be working for the captain, in the kitchen.

Call me thrifty. Since I do not create dialogue, my noodle maker does not have to say anything. He speaks with his hands.

We listen.

We make a film.

We eat noodles.

This is my respite from electionyearing. A moment for dreaming. A moment of imagination detached from everything, except of course, pecking away at something.

And again, I extend the invitation, all are welcome to join in. There are whales out there. There are people who can create dialogue out there. There is a noodle maker out there. I love it when a plan comes together.