Moved blog entries that were written, or TYPED, for this blog, that I fell behind on and failed to post, over to the a book project.  Or “doc.” But this night, so far, quite productive.  Posted to both blogs, which is what I set Self to do.  1Stop just needs a couple more pushes, I’m feeling, in order for me to row completely in Autonomy.  More pictures, more photo journalism, selling the fantasy of wine.  Hate to confess, but the box taught me that.  And today, I learned that I’m the current top sales rep at AV Winery.  And if I can sell wine in the physical form, and over the phone as I did on 1st & Main, I can surely make my own brand appealing.  My brand: ME.  These blogs, writings, just my projects, my bottles.  And I’m the eternal Bottled Ox, standing in bottled awe of what wine does to those loving it, following it.  And to those from Literary seats, it magnifies itself with syllabic swoops, musically.  This is all Art, I now know.  Nothing I’m more passionate in.  Nothing.  Wine, Page …

10:25pm.  Still haven’t written any music, which irks me, a little more than slightly.  After this entry, no worry.  If I do decide to buy some Sauvignon Blanc berries, I am committing my Self to winemaking.  I say that’s what I want, and I do.  But the thought of using this stash saddens me.  WHY?  Don’t I want to make wine, remove mySelf from a role of always merely talking about it, selling it?  Don’t I want to be an Artist?  Why the quakes in my core?  I again see Pac putting a pen on a yellow pad.  Purism.  Now I realize, I need to buy this ton of SB.  But I need to consult with my sister to see what I should be paying.  Again, I state for this record, this diary, I need her.  I cannot, and will NOT, do this without Professor Kate.  Something I need to research: Sauv Blanc and malolactic fermentation.  Is this something I should consider, to produce a different, less metallic SB?  Have to research, which I’m more than eager to do.  AND, ask the “K” in MKCS11.

Now I move to that ’09.  Or should I open a different set of bottled song?  Not sure.  But either way, I need music.  My own, and what I can envelop Self in.  That’s what the Wine orders.  Looking at these bundles, need to count.  But maybe I shouldn’t.  Not till I have to buy the grapes.  But then I’ll always wonder, pester Self with not knowing, knowing I should have audited.  And I’d hate that.  Ugh, but that’ll take so much time.  Yes, there’s that much money on this table with me and the monster [my laptop].  This TV screen’s distracting me.  Need it off.  Need song, verse.  WINE.  Tomorrow, need to, at some point when back home, transfer some of these notes in the little notepad to the book.  One, which I just read, and completely forgot I scribbled, while sipping the ’07 White Blend someone brought for us to taste against our ’07 Sauv Blanc (at work, end of day, tasting Room): “Estimating Wine’s vastness, its entire article, makes me assume a defeatist’s guard…  Odd.” Just need a glass, ’09 Cuvée.  Please.  And music.  More poetry.  Endlessly.  Clouded, in Creative consciousness, shrouded, individualistically touted.  Sip … [4/28/12, Sat]