Posts Tagged With: Wine Journal

Sipping Beatific Beats

IMG_8199For some reason, hot downstairs in the Autumn Walk castle.. and me, I’m writing freely sipping a red blend from someone I appreciate and study and admire.  The whole day, today, my mood volatile.  The papers already stacking, part of the reason.  So I.. needing some reasoning in this, focus on wine, the story and how I want to write it and eventually make it.  The story of wine and, whatever I can think of.  I think I’ve reached the extent of what I can take on in terms of projects so I now I begin this great consolidation, an act I’ve been entertaining and writing about for years, but now it’s necessitated by all I’ve taken on.. Solano and Mendo.. why.. to stay out of the tasting room?  I don’t know, but I–  Nevermind.  Soon I’ll have my night’s cap and just meditate.  Going to throw away what I can and let projects come to fruition as they want.  And I won’t let myself get distracted from my perfect world vision.. the readers and viewers are the only ones I need please.. with this new startup, the ‘3v’ project I’m codifiedly calling it.

This wine reminds me of some of the bottles I sipped in France, at that little bistro just down theIMG_8196 street from the hotel, Le Petit Journal– god I hate this anxious feeling right now.  Must be the heat of the house or something.  Need another glass of the red to calm me so I can think.  I obviously have accepted too much into this semester’s docket.  Living from my freewrites, about wine, and the startup idea, sharing photos and wine information and language about wine, and notes, thoughts.. but NO scores!  This will be a human/non-critical site.  For true wine embrace and centeredness.  I look left, to the floor where all my adjunct articles, be it papers or documents or syllabi, and wonder how I’d feel if it were completely gone, that was filtered out of my life.  No teaching?  Yes.  For a bit.  Just writing.  Walking from the car and into Whole Foods I thought of blogging, and writing and blogging about wine, and about Life, on this blog and this new site, and wonder if I could make it IMG_8148work, if I could gather enough a readership materialize a different life for my family and I.  I will.  I have to.  The wine will make it so and my story and trek to making my own wine.  I know that’s where I’m headed, getting positive feedback even from the two wines I made in ’12 with Blair.  I will make wine, and I will have my own room, but by appointment only.  Sorry.  Just being open to the public I feel makes you like a deli, or a hardware store– no, not to say that all wineries or tasting rooms that are open in door-philosophy are, just–  I don’t know what I’m saying.  Just poured my night’s capping and I’m relaxed.  I deserve this moment, thinking about my wine and the winemaking philosophy I want to execute, and how I want to be in the vineyards everyday, even during dormancy, go for walks as I do with my Arista friends.  And just think, feel what the vineyard is saying to me and if the fruit has been picked as it has in Two Birds and Harper’s (both Arista blocks), then I see if it wants me to measure the next yield, the next cascade of chapters and narrative, fruit and cluster prominence and what the wine’s to be seen as, vineyard or vintage reflective?  That’s the end to these written and adjunct’d means.. the wines I make and sell.  Going to email Kaz tomorrow and see what he has to say, see if he can offer some sagacity.  Or maybe I should do this on my own, wholly.  That would make a better story anyway, the adjunct professor leaving the profession or at least partly to make his own wine, start a family business and be in the vineyards and translating the fruit.  My own Beat– and speaking of which, I wonder how many words I’m at for the day.. just took another hugging sip of the blend, now it shows more rich dimensionality than the first couple glass-tilts.

Today, Day 1 of no Starbuck, just like Alice, though I’m not as disciplined as she, I’m set on changing my character and saving money for my first two barrels in 2016, one red and one white– or maybe I should have typed that reversedly, and more specific– Sauvignon Blanc, Merlot.  “Why not Cab?” you’ll ask.  “Aren’t you a ‘Cab guy’?” Yes, but I want to produce, again, the varietal that pulled me into wine’s Road, that brought me to the pursuit of wine and its voices and dimension and what the whole business and story set is all about.  Have my eye on this one winemaker from.. I think Cloverdale.. anyway, want to interview him for writing purposes but also to learn about how to start, how to get off the ground with the bottles you produce.  This all has to happen now.. so all the mmc prospects that could call, and if they do, will be quite disappointed when I tell them, “I’m at a full client-load now, sorry.” I’m going to pour my entire Self into my classes this term, and my writing clients, save, and start to scout my vineyards.. I know enough people to I’m sure get a deal, but I’ll see.  The SB, I want divided, 50/50, one part free-run, the other kept with skins then pressed soonafter, then tanked for a bit, then barreled.  And the Merlot, I want purist, dirty and earthly, a terrestrial taunt–

Just had an idea, on wine and writing about it, how some call me a “Wild Wine Writer”.  Why not embrace that, be like a, funny I’d say this, “Howard Stern of wine blogging”.  Why not?  I should take another sip, go piss, and come back to this couch and meditate on that.. no?  And no, I’m not drunk.  I wish I was!  I’d be writing much more provocatively, I’ll tell you.

(8/31/15)

Categories: mikemadigancrEATive | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

More Wined Ideas

With my night’s cap, at the kitchen counter, thinking about tomorrow, day one at another IMG_5253campus.  Taking inventory of everything, and knowing my little girl’s arrival is evercloser, I know what I need to cut, or just remove.  All my focus needs to be here, in SONOMA County, and with wine, my wine businesses and efforts.  Tonight before bed, which is in less than an hour I promised myself, told my wife, I need to start designing this new site.  Where the consumer finds wined centeredness, concerning wine education.. winemaking.. wine-food pairing.. wine collecting.. again.. more than just one-dimensional cliffsnotes and remedial plebeian puzzles and hopscotch crackgames.  This will be a site of centrality, one for appreciation and theory and wined thoughts.  Again me linking my academic background and love, just pure LOVE, for wine.  I start at 10PM, which is in 6 minutes.  The first idea I start with.. a picture.  One I’ve already posted to this blog, but with different words narrating it, or supporting or surrounding it.  Or maybe nothing– no there has to be something, right?  I have to encourage discussion as I do in class.  Another sip of the Sumpin’ and my thoughts go everywhere.  Like my pictures of wine in a glass, someone saying they look the same.  Well, Copernicus, they’re not the same.  At all.  Different wines, different glasses (maybe), different times and occasions and thoughts when sipping at that defined moment.  Different poetry and music and all.

Wine to me is like the turning on of music in the morning while driving to work, to one of my three campuses at whatever time of day.  It’s necessitated not just by appreciation but by the story of wine and all the stories that contributed to what I’m sipping; when the crew woke to launch into the vineyard or vineyards to harvest the fruit.  It’s a certain bottled schism between reality and fantasy; palatable romanticism, read and unread, to be read, from palate and senses all.  My favorite class, in glass.

(8/26/15)

Categories: mikemadigancrEATive | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Up and writing. 

Finished a piece for client 2.  Jackie still asleep.  After taking him to school I’m going to come back here and do a thorough inventory of everything in this writer’s written life.  Everything off the desk, and everything organized.  Wanted to wake earlier this morning but you know how that goes…

Not in any rush this morning.  I’m tired of rushing and feeling rushed and always looking at the clock.  I’m done.  For today.  For this morning.

IMG_1053

Just went upstairs to check on his, still very much asleep.  And I’m going with the flow, not stressing and certainly not bothering him, to wake Jackie now would be selfish, would be to get him on my timeline.  Well lucky for him, and me, this morning there is no deadline or timeline.  I’m enjoying my morning and my coffee and my writing, and re-organizing.  Looking at a picture I posted last night I realize it’s all about wine for me, and the union with literature and writing and storytelling, education and exploration; SELF-education and all that be.  I look at the other pictures I’ve taken, as I have these last couple days and realize there’s more, and this startup that’s on my brain, like a superblog, or some grand journal meant for sharing and for educating, bringing wine lovers to their favorite wines.. connecting consumers or just curious wine drinkers to wines they may like.. let these great creative tidal waves continue in their pleasant attack!  Have to edit the client’s piece– or check on little Kerouac again.. let me decide, or not– OH!  Have to type out the lecture from last class, and that will give this writer an edge on today’s sessions.  Thinking of my current business model and how everything is broken down, how I charge to what clients expect to what material I put on this new project of mine, name of which I’ll keep withheld for a bit, but it WILL change everything.. everything…..  EVERYTHING.

IMG_1062

Another check on my little Artist, and…..  Still sleeping.  Poor little bloke.  Must be tired from all that play yesterday in the Autumn Walk horseshoe, with his little friends and their first cars, the little motorized ones with a cheap radio inside to make them feel grownup.  Grownup.. mature.. something I want to be but don’t.  And why?  ‘Cause then you get reasonable, you start over-reasoning.  The fun stops.  Not me, and not with this new project.

Another struggle with tech ensues, and yes it’s with downloading some pictures.  Always with this.  But I put myself in the position, being a blogger or whatever I’m called.  Hear Jack waking, finally, at 7:37, I think.  So accomplished two writings this morning; for client and Self.  No loss at all.  And hopefully my little Beat’s well rested.

Forgot to note that I finished three standalone poems yesterday– or, one longer piece and two haikus, for the short collection I’m putting together and planning to soon print, publish, let out in the world– but so much more to do.  Going up the stairs again to check on little Sal Paradise…..

Back from taking J to school, posted piece to client blog, now fiddling with photos, and about to pull trigger on new blog/site idea..  Not revealing the name here, as I said, and I don’t mean to be antagonistic in saying such, but I need to keep my cards withheld.. and now that I think, I need to do a bit more brainstorming on it before I do pull the trigger.  And why do I have to phrase it like that, “pull the trigger”?  What?  That’s not how I speak and certainly not how I write, I’m here in the study with all this professor evidence around me and my 3-shot mocha, and so thankful for this peace this moment and this sanity at least FOR this moment.  Haven’t heard from two prospects but I’m not letting that into or under my skin even minutely.  One of these prospects always expresses something but–  No, not on this page.  The story of me and wine and the Pinot I tasted last night, from Napa when on my little Napa mission to downtown, then eating at that “Rose” joint.  With that bar, the burger I had and the fries I started and meant to save for Jackie but finished on the long drive home, driving through Glen Ellen/Warm Springs/Bennett Valley.  Looking at the clock, thinking in terms of deadlines, that’s the only way to make this, any of this, “this”, happen.  In shower by 11, latest, post this entry then start on brainstorming of new site..  fiddle with layouts and formats and images.. the purpose is to– save it for the brainstorming page, Mike!  That can’t be hacked.. that can’t be stolen.

IMG_1063

Excited to get back out into the vineyard on Friday with Glenn, seeing where I will be next vintage, making my own wine and seeing it ferment, develop and change and become more characterized.. my wine, my label, and I won’t fail in this label, the whoso cellars vision finally coming to its awaited stature and stance.

Pushing to finish this sitting, this thousand words, and I don’t know why now all of a sudden I want to pursue Zinfandels.  Why?  I’ve always disparages the varietal and more or less looked down upon it.  Why the certain curiosity?  I think, and I’m quite sure actually, it’s from the Arista Zin that’s now poured in the tasting room.

Now more ideas me accost.. but I can’t take on too much with these 4 classes, I know, believe me.  So I pause, and I wait, and not be too reactive.  This methodology will make me a more proficient writer and better businessman in the run long, I know..  Still have to finish the syllabus for the Mendo section.  See?  How could I possibly take on more?  My daughter will be proud of her writer-papa, when she arrives this December, she’ll see how hard I’ve worked and she’ll be more than elated to know all my focus in that moment is on HER.  My family.  And nothing else.

(8/26/15)

Categories: mikemadigancrEATive | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Barrel and Narrate

The half-marathon done, and I just scraped some time together to post– or write then post, a piece for client 1.  Now I wait for the day to further evolve and progress, the week to start, have to wake early tomorrow if I can, feeling quite tired from the half and not enough time I feel to get anything done.  Lectures to write, blog posts to finalize.. only way to stay ahead I feel and fear is to wake at 5AM, every morning.

IMG_8088

Alice leaves for school, to get some work done before her week lifts off and my son still asleep upstairs, very much with Time’s invitation to finish projects and brainstorm, and consider reality.. I’m creating all this content for other people, which I’m more than happy to do, but what if I dumped all gathered content, written and visual, and short videos, to one spot.. my site.. and the purpose?  Wine education?  Not so much.. just a telling of wine life, then maybe sell, I don’t know, ads or ad space, or whatever.  Truly get it monetized and have WILD wine-woven startup.. consumers and DTC and advertising, and blogging and letters and reviews.. everything that wine is and is meant to be, fun and Human and inviting.. if I’m sipping wine, what are the first words that me accost?  The other day I was thinking of odd or obscure words to describe the Arista Zin, that 2012 they’re pouring in the TR, and I wrote “Roman”.  I had to laugh at what I wrote, and I wasn’t sipping anything, it just made me laugh, but there was purpose and pertinence to the words.  Like a Roman soldier, something grandly-themed, something historic and history-shifting/making.

I need to move and write with everything as I ran the half this morning.  My best time ever for a half-marathon.  Not by much, but I did well.  That needs to be my momentum with this site, this startup.. and what to call the idea?  Not sure, but I need to think about it.  One thought was “enoguistix” but I hate that ‘ix’ sound.  And I’ve used ‘eno’, or ‘oeno’ too many times already.

Think I hear Jack upstairs stirring a bit.  Good.  Need to shower before Mom and Dad’s and decide what wines I’m bringing up there, or wine, singular.  Have to drive back, remember, and I don’t want to be slowed or with wandering attention as wine and beer seem to do now with my thinking and scribbled conceptions.  Must be a mark of aging, I don’t know.  But even if it’s not, it still reminds me that so much has to be done and there’s not much allowance for idleness, or even a mere moment of still.  M2’s arrival approaches and everything has to be set, scenic, empyrean.

‘fermentopia’.. no, don’t like the ‘topia’.  UGH!  Then what?  How about…  Don’t want to write it here.  Or at all.  Not now.  Going to let the ideas bounce around with each other till something adheres.

Categories: artist's notes ... | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

MOCK SOMM: GReedy Wines, a reaction

IMG_7978Already in love with small producers, I was sure this was to be a label that would contribute to me and my story and transcending wine character in some new encompassing way.  The wines are one facet with me, certainly an important one, but not the be-all of the new presence, whatever I’m sipping and whatever new label I involve myself with.  GReedy Wines, an amalgamation of talents and visions of Greg Urmini and Ross Reedy, shows the approachable more story-told side of wine and the narrative that I’ve always found more inviting about wine.  These two oeno-elevated chaps have travelled and studied impressively, as well as formally studied, and only from a true adoration of and envelopment in wine itself.

The next morning I go to my office, open my Composition Book and look through my notes, which as always I have an arduous and incensing time surveying.. but I started with the Sauvignon Blanc jots.  A ’14, fruit from Alexander Valley, does see a bit of an oak’d motion, but not much, not enough to interfere with varietal integrity or regional translation–  I scribbled (if I’m reading it accurately): “Poetic pulse from intro to conclusion of sip; melon and cream, light herb and pineapple; a jazzed tap of white Bordeaux–” And there are more scribbles from there, but I remember now the revolution of the palate-feel and how the wine itself took to oxygen, developed and peculiar and impressively characterized sensibility to its “palate traffic”, I wrote.  I’m again thinking of their story, Greg and Ross’, and how they merely want to share, display what they can do, yes, but offer something different to the wine lover and translate varietal and region, and vintage in their own way.  I read down in my SB sentences, and see verses, that’s what this bottle made me do, there in my home office; a wine with influence and persuasion, rhetoric, I wrote “…expository, effusive, dactylic…” And this isn’t just one of those sip-before-dinner Blancs.  It’s with the momentum that can walk and recite alongside dishes.  Lighter creamy pasta, or chicken with light pepper and lemon, or a caesar salad, or for lunch with a chicken salad.  It beckons something with flavor punctuation and charisma to match its won.  Another note, “a letter to Sauvignon Blanc as a genre, as a story and song…” Now, I’m not certain what I was inferring or asserting with that scribble, precisely anyway, but the bottle had me encased in thought, a bright awe, and stricken with impression.

Then Cabernet, also from AV.  A 2012.  And Cabernet is that one varietal that I’ll always moniker IMG_7965my own.  But this bottle taught me, contrasted with other bottles out there and ways the grape is handled and then bottled.  Greg and Ross illuminate a more melodic palate beat and presence with this ’12, singing through suggestions of plum, chocolate, light espresso, light and atmospheric oak, or cedar, theses– adored “all minutes and measures of this Cab”, as I have the Comp Book.  Between the two wines, this project catapults the GReedy boys’ story the most prominently– that wine fervor and going our there and living it, the travels and education, the self-education and writing your own story, everything that the small label should embody, PRACTICE, and share.

So is ‘love’ a strong word, when addressing me and my affinity for small production houses?  Not a strong word, but an inaccurate one, surely.  Small producers are my theology, as a wine writer, drinker, chaser and storyteller.  This story can only grow for them and the bottles they produce, are not only inviting and communicative now with their flavor arrangements and ambient textures, but would as well enjoy residency in a cellar.  And wines that visually and immediately demonstrate that degree of agility and proverbial availability, openness, “diplomacy” as I wrote at the page’s lower sector, should be written about, brought home, shared, studied, explored over months, years.

Researching them more, the GReedy assembly, I find they met while in travel, where from a literary disposition can only encourage character growth and provide that story the consumer wants to read– hence my theology in the small producer.  There’s more sincerity, more candor in the narrative, and in what’s bottled.  More pervading intimacy, for sure, and like I scribbled at some point last night, I think while tasting the Cabernet: “Traveling in ideas and interpretations, transformative properties for wine’s character and me as the sipper, scribbler.” Am I lost in the wines, yes but no, more like metaphysically prompted.  And not many wines do so to this writer.  In fact, less than very few do.

IMG_7977So, here this morning with my coffee, I return to my SB notes, on how the first olfactory impression was rich, “beaming” as I wrote, and entirely believable.  Not contrived or conveniently morphed with oak or inappropriate alcohol content.  “More music in this SB than the others, much more sway and swagger.. general sensory magnetism…” And I kept on noting and writing what I encountered.  Wrote more on the SB than its Cab cousin, but I still puzzle and de-puzzle what I sip and what I wrote, being put in the palatable maelstrom of GReedy Wines, its two-bottle and wildly coercing portfolio– in fact, no, they deserve better than such a clinical noun, ‘portfolio’, ugh… a short story, or novelette, one which will keep in its scribe bass and highhat taps; its own song and Art, travel and education, the Road and the growth and the ambrosial madness of wine and its world.  These two produce the same as I in this Comp Book, on these keys, with fervor and tireless reflective urgency.

And quickly back to the Cabernet deconstructions, and one word cages me, “hymn’.  Connection to the theological lean, yes, but beyond that I’m lost.  And I don’t mind.  Consider this morning’s thousand an appreciative epistle to the two.  To travelers, the wine-minded, the urgent artists, to the ever-written story.  Stories.

Link to Their Website:  GReedy Wines

Direct Link to Get on the Mailing List, to Purchase GReedy Wines:  GET ON THE LIST

(8/16/15)

Categories: MOCK SOMM | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

MOCK SOMM: Benevolo Wines, Knights Valley, Merlot, 2010

IMG_7546I’m partial to Merlot, and always find myself eager to defend it, but this bottle doesn’t need my ardor, nor my soapbox.  And Knights Valley, no less, one of those I feel under-appreciated AVA’s that when treated properly boasts a vocality that others cannot, and should spastically envy.  This Merlot screams conviction and candor with all its palate elements; poetry and a certain syncopated palate saunter that even those vowing Merlot diffidence would embrace and in which suddenly become confessional and effusive.  This Merlot oration teaches the sipper not just about varietal, but about time, to stop or at the very least slow and enjoy, that life is curt at best and when you meet bottles like this you should throw yourself to its meditative ebb.

Initially, I’m greeted by darker more roaring fruit than I habitually see in the varietal, then a pattering calm that won’t leave, then continues its bewitching sensory jargon.  And as a IMG_7545Merlot follower, I’m smitten.  But even those with the for-whatever-reason aversion would want to listen to, taste, sip again and collect.  I’m at an intersection quite interesting with this 2010 Merlot, and am caused to collect my thoughts and perspectives on wine in general; where am I going and what I see and how I think about the Merlot across intangible and immediate treks.  It forces me to metaphysicality.  I confess to it and myself and the later suggestions that pleasantly confront me later in evening, after letting the full bowl take what oxygen it can, here at the writer’s desk, the glass surrounded by papers and notebooks, and camera cords.  I build a story with this Merlot, that was gifted to me from Liam, owner of Benevolo, and now I look at the bottle and all-the-more tussle with my wined vision, and my past with Merlot, how it was the varietal that brought me into wine’s scape.  And Benovolo has cemented that sensibility; with me, with wine, with Merlot, and at this table writing now with a bowl barren.

MM93

Categories: MOCK SOMM | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Products, Production, Productivity, Produced

IMG_7683Haven’t felt this productive and accomplished in some time.  Writings for clients, done and posted.  My check book, BALANCED.  Bills, paid.  I’m feeling very much even this afternoon and now I reward myself with some freeness in writing time.  Just remembered I have two more checks to write but no matter, I can very much handle it.  Have to return to my 3 pages a day, and I will, soon as my schedule in me settles.  Still have to grade Summer papers and prep for Fall, as well as gather the collected poems I put together.  Yes, a lot on the writer’s plate, but that’s how he wants it.  And now, here in this quiet house I very much have to take advantage of my moment at this desk in the Autumn Walk study.  Planner on left, mapping out the morrow.. going out with Glenn tomorrow night at midnight and picking the Old Camp Vineyard at midnight till 2.  Can’t even gather how excited I am about this dark pick, haven’t done such since 2012 when at that other place.  But this will be all the more resplendent and memorable, 1, as it’s Pinot Noir, and, 2, with a man I greatly respect.  Didn’t spend that much time with Glenn IMG_7696today but just in the short time we walked the Old Camp lots and had coffee and the place.. what’s it called….. Blue Beagle in North-North Santa Rosa, I ingested more knowledge of the harvest and this vintage and what it’s like to be one fully living as a self-employed and sustaining wine business figure.

3PM exactly, Alice scheduled to meet me here at 4 to leave and get little Kerouac before his swim lessons.  So much to organize.. already scribbling items on the calendar for morrow, not putting on this goddamn laptop’s datebook as I don’t trust this app or laptop as far as I wish I could throw it.  Busy, busy.. self-employed, love it..  had the chance to visit and old friend, Sophie, at her new base at a RRV winery on Olivette Road.  Bought one Pinot.  Can I write that off?  Poems, don’t forget to type those poems, especially those three you wrote the last days of class– see?  I’m mad with how IMG_7700busy I am, but again I love it more than I can here convey.  So full of vision and life and in no time I’ll be on the Road, traveling and writing and bringing stories and presents home for my babies.  And wife.  Just as Mom and Dad used to when they flew for the airline.

What else can I get done in this efficiency spree?  Sent a sample and a revision to a prospect, and this one seems to be testing me, but I could be wrong.  I should here today whether or not I’ll be let on to her project.  Hope she contacts me soon, as there’s little space left on my calendar.  And in the end, really, I’m the one making the call.  Empowered writer, writing books, running a business, and his blog, and running (11.1 miles yesterday I think was the final count), teaching 3 classes, and .. what else?  Sure there’s something else in their, in here, in this room with and somewhere on this desk in or atop or under one of the piles.

(8/11/15)

Categories: mikemadigancrEATive | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Glass Memory

When you learn in the wine world it’s different and much more punctuated I feel, than in other extensions.  The soil, the rootstock, the varietal clone the microclimate the trellising style, the adds (if any).  So much to it.  And listening to him speak of the ripening and the clones of Pinot and everything that’s to be considered as a grower/winemaker, has me considering and reconsidering everything.  I feel tireless, just like him.  Wanting so much to work those endless harvest hours.  but I pause and just watch again, seeing if I really could do that– well of course I can, if I put as much of myself into it as he did, does–

IMG_1020

And I walk another block, staring at the hills and again realize there’s so much to this wine story of mine, of ours, all of ours in this world and business.  And the story that’s being told and narrated is not ending, ever.  Back in Bennett Valley, just up the Road from where Alice and I used to live, in that condo, which I find completely Literary in all its suggestive angles, and I still feel tireless, like I could write all night about wine and what I plan to do with it.  I’d pace back and forth, up and down that row if I could.

IMG_1017

I follow.  Just a student again.  And I love it.  More than I can here tell you and certainly more than I have time to tabulate.  So I follow Glenn some more around the rows and look at the clusters, and one thing I do notice which he confirms is the uneven ripening, which could be negative or not.  But who knows, I guess.  It all depends on how the juice tastes, right?  So I want to study the business more and see what I can do as a winemaker, maybe, or just a wild wine writer that I already be.  My head’s everywhere, and I credit and blame the day, in those blocks.

(7/31/15)

Categories: mikemadigancrEATive | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

7/24/15– notes

Meeting with client, then what.  Writing, whole day to self.  May do short run, but the writer needs time to meditate think in the context of the novel.  6:54AM, and not much in a mood for writing.  So then what.  What am I doing?  Why force?  ‘Cause I can’t sit still.  Not with the words and the streamings of what’s synaptically snapping in my head.  the novel the novel the novel, just like when I was in grad school; go to the fiction seminar then come home to write, all jazzed up but then do nothing with the pages in fact I have now no idea where they are, were, or are, in the garage?  victims of the Autumn Walk move?  Who knows.  But I’m older, much, now, and with a family, with real deadlines.  Used to hate deadlines but I now I clear conceptualize their value and grow from that, the old Chinese wisdom, Lao Tzu, of calm overcoming heat.  The connection not sure but I know there is one and one that will establish the day’s mentality and attitude, my mood which has of late proven to be volatile somewhat.  Symptomatic of writers and their ways, my ways.. the one holding the pen and collecting the pages– if I’m to be a novelist all has to be simple and all has to be contained, have borders.. so…..

On the Road I’ll have–

Hours later, i resume with whatever I thought I had, after meeting and so many wine thoughts and sips I’m confused and convinced that the wine story will show me where to go, exactly and not.  I’m not editing this entry even a little, but writing freely, so freely I’m lawless and chaotic, and defying what there is in way of law.. two Chardonnays I tasted on Healdsburg’s square before my meeting with Glenn, where again I was prompted to futher submerege in the text and subtext of wine’s clefs and frets– but then what, the entanglement of my consciousness becomes even more oceanic in its momentum–  I’m cornering myself for reason;s sake and stabilization, the anchoring of wine’s candid thesis and direction, the papers and novels it wants me to write– so now I sip more of the Sanglier Blanc, a blend of every white varietal under a Sonoma County variable sky– my beat complete and replete with a street’s beat.  And me, the novelist under deadlines always just sipping the new wine that greets him, thinking he can be a winemaker and novelist and journal everything he can– he said, “One fast move, or I’m gone…” And so I feel the same way and drink more, listen to the music of the quiet on the bottom floor of this Autumn Walk spot– distractions that’s it, Emerosn would be mad at me and he should be, and so should Dad, as he once told me that distractions are “death to a goal”.  Those were his precisely realized words, the specified direness of everything, and as a writer it vocals even more, me with my students and my novel just haunts me and makes me drink more of this white blend of 53 varietals– I just use sarcasm as a way to cope, and with what, who knows, this narrative is directionless, and I am on my Road, in these studies and always jealous of the students and those that get to travel for work, you know the ones that say “Oh I just got back from a trip to North Carolina for a week, and then Florida after that…” Just heard someone say that to me, so placidly, and I was angered or envious I don’t know I just saw the Road for me and become hellish in my realization of accepted regularity–  staring at the wall, the wainscoting, the patterns have me distracted– nothing in this room wants me to write.  So I fight, for my sanctum, and my sanity, and the stabilized penning of my Now, the Newness and the Road’s varying light, what happened?  but I’m calm, not at all overheated, or understated, but what am I truly, that’s the novel’s goal determining that so I’m destined to be flat and failed– my beat piles on a cold floor.  This white blend, telling me to go further into wine’s heave, but for what I ask, what if I stopped–  I need sleep now, the adjunct, the tremens, that’s a career right? 

Categories: artist's notes ... | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

MOCK SOMM: Stewart Cellars, Napa Valley, Cabernet Sauvignon, 2012

IMG_7293Enclosed in this new Cabernet translation, one from Napa which I don’t explore enough and I don’t know how more I need to go over there now, I can simply flurry and fly to a computer and order.  But I slow in my sips and remember what it was like with the first sensory landing; the chocolate and toasted oak, blackberry and cherry and whatever spice that is, nose; then the palate is irrevocably kaleidoscopic in its current and webbed ebb.  Just charming and musical, jazzed from first measure to last.  I look for jazz in wines, as you might know and here I have it, a newly voiced Cabernet beat and snare sound; soft but not passive, assertive with no encroach.  Just a bedazzled figure, me, speechless and only writing what notes I’m capable; the coma-coding charm of this bottle, texture and rhythm, me thinking and writing something down that I check later only to laugh as it doesn’t make sense.  And why don’t I be more technical, why not go more into those descriptors and what wine publications would publish, what a half-faced clack-dish sommelier would say, in that low all-knowing octave.  Because I can’t, no pulse of that angle; what this is, candid adoration of a wine, this Stewart Cabernet, Napa.. Napa and I reconnecting and I have this to thank, but I’m afraid to try others.  And I don’t think I will for a while– need to order more– and the recalls of the jazz I sipped the other night and right now again grip me, have me bobbing my head, not knowing where the wine’s profile and note syncopation will next go.  I don’t need to know.  Just years ago, I was just discovering Cabernet, and I’ve learned a bit since then, but this bottle, as Ginsberg said, “doesn’t hide the madness”.  It teaches me more than I could have called.  It shares its “inner moonlight”.  And this madness, make me mad to keep sipping, in want of more notes, more music from its nuclei, more discoveries and answers but I don’t want it to answer them all; I love its dark mystery, from visual to texture how the sip summarizes itself.  I need another.  Sip.  Bottle.  Case.  So I’m in scribble till the night’s over, till the jazz arrests.

MM95

Categories: MOCK SOMM | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Blog at WordPress.com. The Adventure Journal Theme.

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 4,913 other followers