7, 5, 6, 8 — Wine Mind, Time Bind

9:18pm.  Back from a movie.  Wasn’t the most riveting film I’ve ever screened.  But, entertaining.  It did what it was supposed to.  Looking forward to tasting tomorrow.  And pouring, meeting guests, gathering material.  Characters.  All about the characters, always.  Still tired from today’s word rush.  Could probably touch 3,000 words if I pushed hard enough.  But I don’t want to put you through that, reading my simple filling of a page.  My Comp Book, at right, begging for some wild scribbles.  So tired, having gone to bed at 2-something AM this morning.  Not in the mood to write.  Should stop.  And from what I’ve read, Updike would stop at 3 pages.  Not a sentence more.  But it’s hard for me, to just stop.  Me, the page addict.  Narcissistic.

Was a treat revisiting Martin Eden this morning.  Yes, I’m sure of it: Self-publishing first, then maybe traditional.  If they come to me with an offer I like.  If not, I’ll make them fly away, scatter like geese from a shotgun clap.  Have to save coin for the first serious release.  Probably only going to be a chapbook.  Seriously, this time.  Not even going to entertain page length right now.  Worry about that later.

Tomorrow’s Wine mission, at Kaz: revisit all being poured, innumerate 10 descriptors for each.  Could be fun.  Crazy, as I like writing, writing paired with wine, to be.  Not sure I’ll list ten, or will be able to, for the ports.  The white, maybe.  But the blush and the red could be tricky.  I only encounter a cluster of notes with those.  They’re quite steady and consistent, so I’m not diminishing the wine’s palate presence, or pairing potential, of blush or red.  I’m just saying those ports are very direct in their respective symphonies.  Anyway, my writing homework for tomorrow set…

Not much time left.  11:11p.  Yes, I’m officially uneven in my strut across these lines, left to write–I mean RIGHT.  See?  Clocking out.  Wonder if the Lenoir is still on tap in the Room.  Remember sharp notes of lavender, dark chocolate cherry, slight cinnamon…blueberry?  Let’s see what tomorrow’s pours sing.  Sip, sip … (2/11/12)

2/12/12. Sunday.    Back from the tasting Room.  Home, ready to write.  Might watch the Grammys, a little.  Rain.  Cold.  Wind, for the writing.  TOnight, a long one of writing.  Spoken word, verses.  Song, mostly.  Was reading Plath’s entries this AM.  Told me to write more.  And READ more.  Her work, and others.  I need to study.  Be a student while I write, like I was yesterday.


2/13/12.  Monday.  At the coffee shop.  Small circular table.  With which I’m content.  Don’t want to be encouraged to put a swarm of THINGS around me. Clutter, not in the mood for it.  Not that I found the Grammys inspiring last night, but it did accomplish in sparking my thoughts, with music’s presence in my writing.  And, seeing the consciousness-streamed style through.  Better, worse.  Have to trust mySelf, just as all those “artists” last night have done with themselves.  Next visit to this café, only pen&paper.  Feel there is too much on my person now.  Weary of who comes close to my bag, tucked between the inside of my right shin and the table’s base.

Busy yesterday at Kaz’s.  Loved how people were blending the ’09 Lenoir and ’07 Syrah, just to see what happens.  Just ‘cause they could.  That’s what wine should invite: the unorthodox, the tangential.  The rebel.  All the pretentious swine thinking that wine is a “luxury” product, that it should bring with it status and exclusivity, are malignant poisons to the majority of us who love the wine, truly embrace our passion for it, wanting nothing more than to enjoy life.  They should be removed, forcefully.  And if not, then called out.  I’m one to do that.  And I invite their response to my citations, quite openly, eagerly.  Money, the industry, infecting wine’s world in many folds.  All I can do is record, relay what’s uncovered.  Like a journalist, I guess.  No, as Artist.

Glad I didn’t hit 3k on Saturday, even though I was a bit upset with Self at day’s end, then.  Think that may be too much to write–  Just saw a bigger table become abandoned, free.  But I’m staying here.  Discipline.  I guess.  Thinking, what do I want from this sitting, which I’m designating till around 2p.  Standalone’s, for reading.  Manuscripted music.  Not in a novel, or book, mood this morning.  Still having trouble waking up.  This groggy net won’t leave my character’s capsule.  Need another sip of this 3shot, which was free from a voucher, or coupon, whatever, I was given yesterday from my friend Raquel at the coffee house down street from home.


Travel.  Dominating my focus.  Just want to write somewhere incredibly distant.  My buddy J.K. recently went to Morocco, Spain, and I think one another mark on my list.    Would love to see Norther Africa, all over Europe, Australia like my cousin Nick.  Need to see more, for these pages’ sakes.  Wouldn’t take this laptop with me.  True adventure involves essentials.  Ink, lined paper.  Or, just blank sheets; Life Canvases.  Take pleasure in that idea more, I think, just a blank page.  Lines entail direction, organization, formalism’s forward, which we all know is not for me.  Neither this Author, nor his journals.  And, older I get, the more I realize that’s all I write, will ever write–Journals.  All pieces released, be they curt or a tad more lengthy; for performance or readers’ perusal…  From the Journals.

Post-box, I’m feeling carefree in a way I’d only fantasized when there.  And, in no way am I of mood to follow direction.  Not anymore.  “Don’t have a bad attitude,” one could advise, probably should advise.  But, my Sense responds, “He doesn’t have an attitude, but rather, finally, a secured sense of Self.” Writing for me; Living, then writing.  Hopefully people will read.  And if not, then I followed with what I saw as germane.  I’m prepared to be wrong, with this dispositioning practice.  Being “right” isn’t my aim.  At all.  I’m sprinting for consistency, principle.  For ME.

Was just thinking to mySelf, “I can’t post this now, I still have to upload the pictures I took yesterday.” How is that Literary?  How is that Wine-like?  Dependence on technology, cutting it out.  If I can “post pics” to this “blog,” then I will.  But, the focus is the writing.  Miss talking to my students about the pitfalls, addictive habits of technologies, the corporations circulating these clinging devices.  Yesterday, while at Kaz, thought of the feel my tasting Room would bring with it.  “True brick and mortar,” I thought.  You wouldn’t check-in on an iPad.  That’s ridiculous.  I’d want it to have a vintage, retro-feel to its corners and customs.  You’d sign your name, if you wanted.  Want people to walk into the past while sipping a modernized approach to wine, but with sippable elemental simplicity.  Does that make sense?  Don’t worry, it will…

Winemaking, my wine…all I’ve been thinking about lately.  Need to text [yes, I know…technology] my sister, see if she’s free for a meeting, tasting, at some point this week.  Also want to talk to her about our focuses for ’12.  I, of course, want to do another Cabernet, but I want to see if we can maybe fit in the Sauvignon Blanc, as well.  One red, one white.  To me, this is the next logical step.  Time isn’t forever, so why wait another harvest, couple harvests, till I produce another wine type?  Quite sure she’ll support me in this project, and if not I’ll go it alone.  Be a true winemaker– SOLO.  Need to start putting some notes in that little black journal I bought, for my winemaking lessons, discoveries.  Should probably go snag a winemaking magazine today if I have time.  “If I have time,” ha.  Nothing but time.  Thanks, pigs.

Even as a winemaker, I’ll be outspoken.  Just as with my writing.  Going to be bold, daring like my brother Kaz.  Stand by my convictions, freethinking, as Dad has always ordered.  Don’t want MY son to have a coward of a father.  And he won’t, as I’m not.  I’ll never be muted, as I urged my students to be anything but.  Like Dad said, “Everything that I lectured to my students, about independence, free thought, has now fallen into my lap.” The world, notably this “industry,” will be shocked at what’s to befall.


Before I end this passage, I wanted to again tell you to expect music, lots of it, entering my tasting Room.  Wine has to have music, a musical surroundings set, I think.  It pairs more than just amusingly, profitably.  It’s one healthy element co-mingled with another.