No barrel tasting today. At least not in Sonoma Valley. Out in Russian River, today. Kaz taught me a lot about vineyard management, and where the vines were, now, with their growths. This unusually warm weather more than likely will bring about an early bud break, which could heighten the exposure to total frost damage. Which, of course, doesn’t sit well for us, winemakers. Kaz and I also talked about staying true to one’s vision. He and I explored the concept after I asked him how one continues consistently with their brand, averts distraction, builds and remains faithful to their message. He said–punctuatedly, promisingly–”Stay true to yourSelf.” Conveys convincing tremors thinking of his lines. Wasn’t going to write, tonight. Only had plans to stare at Mr. Jack, sip a Racer, relax. But, thinking of Kaz’s offering to our Ideas Exchange, I have no choice but to write, cement another track. Recite to Self; Reinforce rhyme in my latter time.
Again, collecting mySelf. With my ideas, this growing manuscript I’m about to sell. Looking through today’s pictures, which I had plenty of time to capture, as there was no tasting of barrels on Adobe Canyon Rd. Realizing, more, I NEED travel. To escape this pattern of predictability, the expected, the safe. Boxes. Was reading the New York Times this morning, after ordering my mocha, waiting by the newspaper stand. Was reading a war reporter’s accounts, everything he saw, its effect on him, the immediate community. Need that. Impact. Not saying I necessarily want to report on war, but I need distance, the unfamiliar. And I know many winemakers that would agree that such is beneficial to Craft. Adventure. Exploration of Self. In travels. Building of Craft, in layered larks. True to Self, in what I want, what my Craft needs. Removal from all boxes. Sipped an unusually structured white today, after work. Want to sip more of the like–flavorfully odd. Can only envision what I’d write, following. On a balcony, Italy, staring out at Mediterranean waves tips, sipping, scribbling. The next day, catching a flight to Dubai. What I’ll do there, have no idea. I don’t have plans, but to write. Isn’t that the point? Why plan? I’m an Artist. A writer, just searching for scenes, sipping. Sequencing in scribbles.