So if tried and trusted are drunk in the corner of the bar and I take off my babushka and walk outside. Ride the donkey to pick the lemons and olives with my father in Kiveri, when I come back, since honey keeps, have you rearranged the tracks? Would you sing me a new version of a song from the 40s about being true? I would talk about time-travel with toasted bread and messy hair. How would I film, how would a character enter the flashback of her great-grandmother? Maybe I would start with sound, a sound that one can smell. I like the sound of dishes and cutlery when they come into contact with each other or other things like wood or tile. It makes me think that there is a family nearby and a crowded kitchen scene comes in. The lighting and small gestures come next.
Stefania Irene Marthakis received her BA in Poetry & Theater from Columbia College Chicago and my MFA in Poetry & Poetics from Naropa University. From 2005-2007, she interned at The Poetry Project in NYC. Some of her poems can be found in Columbia Poetry Review, New American Writing, Bombay Gin and The Recluse.
On Time Travel from A Filmmaker’s Handbook