Joy of work

Imagine for a moment, a proper chef, dedicated to his work, ideally he would own his own small restaurant, not for the purpose of making money, but rather for the purpose of performing his craft, staying focused throughout the day, performing tasks that might seem menial, with utmost precision, slightly bent over from years of hunching over a cutting board, thick fingers and cut forearms from spending those same years cutting and whisking, peeling and mixing, kneading and baking, for the simple pleasure of creating food to be enjoyed by others, not out of kindness mind you, the customer of course are expected to pay for their meals, but neither for riches or fame. Asking why Chef spends so much time and effort, why he breaks his knees and back for something without any apparent purpose, without any higher ambitions would be meaningless, for either he will be unable to answer your question, lacking the ability to properly articulate his drive and passion, or perhaps he is not interested in explaining himself verbally, but rather letting his actions work as the story, and the sound of the knife breaking through the fibers of the carrots and hitting the cutting board, work as the narration and music, being just one scene in the movie, which is otherwise filled with quick cuts, rock music and noise. The cutting of the carrots acting as a short but reinvigorating break in an otherwise chaotic world. Here in the small kitchen behind the restaurant counter, the Chef is the master of a high functioning domain, dominated by order in pursuit of creation.