Fire is the director’s rehearsal room, a raw montage of sparks that know nothing of scripts or budgets. When you build a campfire, you line tinder, then match, then let the flames take over, just like a scene that starts with a single line and then erupts into full action. The first spark is the idea—small, fragile, waiting to be set alight. The match is the inciting incident, the catalyst that turns potential into heat. As the fire grows, it demands oxygen, much like a narrative needs stakes, conflict, and dialogue to keep burning bright. And just like a camera zooms in on a blazing hearth, the audience watches the story unfold, mesmerized by how something so simple can consume everything around it. In both worlds, the trick isn’t to control the flame but to give it space, let it shape itself, and then capture that wild beauty on the screen.

Sounds like you’ve got the perfect script in mind, just waiting for the right breeze to lift the curtain. Keep that wind in check and watch the story bloom—if the smoke drifts too far, you’ve found the next scene.