Wasn’t going to bring laptop, but, as I stated in a note I took this morning, I rarely get around to transferring the writing, just ‘cause of my writing style–it being so fast, in-the- moment, streamed. Time, according to this device, 8:51a. Knew I wasn’t going to get here at 8:30, as I wanted to, or usually shoot for, since I made coffee at home. Two strong cups, still swimming in my system. So, hoped for 8:40a, but was held up by a bike race here in AV, all along Chalk Hill. Lucky me. Listening to Thievery, as always, with window down. Thinking about day ahead, and this Sunday (my home tasting, Wine/varietal analysis). Thinking I’m only going to do 1 wine. And the varietal? Probably Syrah, as I think it’s the most fun to taste, composition-wise.
Quite pleased with the stills I yesterday shot in Sonoma’s Valley. The music stopped spilling through my phone. Why does it always do that here, on 128’s side. May be a signal issue. Just noticed some vineyard workers to my left, and up the embankment, walking rows of a vineyard. Never noticed there was one up there. Should have known… There’re vines all around me, why I love writing here every Saturday, Sunday so early. Today, I’m betting, quite busy at AV Winery. Can’t wait for the tours, the characters, their reactions to the wines, how they describe them. Okay, music not working on phone, will play songs here on monster…
8:59a. 51 minutes left to Self, for the page. Not sure where to go with this session, except to tell you how I can’t wait for Artistic Autonomy. That’s towards what I’m writing. It’ll be better for, certainly me, but more so Jack. I won’t be gone 8 hours, 8+, five days/week. And Self-publishing, I’m holding back for now. Doesn’t mean I’m going to halt in allocating pages to this book idea, I’m merely holding off the actual publishing of the work. Don’t think it’d be responsible to spend that much money on something I may not have adequate time to sell. So what will I sell, in terms of written works? Self. I’ll be the product, the brand. Why would someone want to purchase me? Don’t have an answer for you. Just have to put all channels of my heart into these syllables, and KNOW I’m doing the right thing.
Need new business cards. Soon, AGAIN. Luckily, I still have well over 100 to last me a bit. Oh, just remembered I have a Cabernet at home I could use for Sunday’s analysis. Completely forgot about that bottle. That saves me some currency, in my evaporating balance. Love the song that now plays. Makes me think of France, Paris, traveling. Can only imagine the sights that Mom and Dad are capturing, as I type here on the unpaved earth, counting down minutes before I have to “host” people on tours. I love what I do, now. But, everyone knows what I really want. And, being only 17 days from 33, I continue to deteriorate into an impatient dust storm. But, I’ll write my way through it. And, I stall to say, this blog will help. I can immediately release my reactionary prose, verse. But, there is a deadline. 12/31/2012, 11:59pm. After that, I don’t know. Before that date, I will have my Autonomy. My office. My crafted Now.
Disappointed I didn’t wake the other morning at 6:20a as I targeted. But, this morning redeems. Love this cold air sneaking into this dirty cabin. When was the last time I had this mini-tank washed? Just had a flashback of my Literary Lunches on 1st & Main, with this current song, “Illusion (Rollercone Remix)” from the Hôtel Costes 5 Album, or one of the versions, I don’t know. Either way, I remember having my second mocha, typing angrily, racing to soak into every drop of that 60-minute freedom injection. Isn’t that more or less what I’m doing now, here in the XA? Somewhat. From here, I go to a beautiful winery. From the Roasting Company, I always returned to a malignantly toxic, vile, office, surround by wine industry snitches and opportunists. Topic next …
Kelly, recently went to NYC, I was writing the other night. Her first time on the East Coast, in Manhattan. The biggest break for her as an Artist. A gallery caught news of her odd color blends, blurred images, visual voice. A couple galleries, hosting a collective showing, paid for her flight, hotel accommodations. Interesting writing about this character, being envious of her talent, progression, travels. Can’t be annoyed by this paginated presence. She, I feel, will carry me to what my work needs, that perpetual mobility. Can’t afford to give her a book yet, with all those paper and copy costs, so she’ll have to settle for a stationary situation on these blog screens. Sorry, Kelly..
Nearing my thousand. That was quick. 9:21am. Time passing cruelly, just like at that Roasting Co, with its airborne coffee essences, walled paintings, view of the 1st & Main intersection, passing characters [tourist, local]. You know what, giving Self till 9:30a, then stopping, cruising over to the Jimtown Store. Maybe I’ll treat Self to one of those Chicken Salad Sandwiches. Truck just pulled in behind, to left of XA, only to speed off obnoxiously, using the dirt as annoyance artillery, attaching to air. Not bothered, only motivated to faster finish. Back to the paper vs blog issue, just thought: Yes, as I’ve so many times before noted, anyone can write a blog. BUT, there is only one ME; only one of my voice, style, page presence/persistence. Just as there are so many musicians out there: So many have demo tapes, indi albums, singles, EP’s, what have… but it’s the ones with unique flight that reverberate with populace, stay in minds, and INSPIRE. So yes, there are other Literary bloggers, or just writers with blogs. But they don’t, can’t, NEVER will write like Madigan, Mike.
9:27a. Over 1k, typed. No troublesome transfer. Should get on road a minute or two early to JTown, enjoy more air in this cluttered cabin. Need that car wash, soon. Need a nice mobile office. Just had bikers pass, laughing, one of them saying “I’m getting tired, thinking of that wine already!” The other biker, his right, laughing. Now, me, leaving. Love the AM session, almost as much I infatuate with Kelly’s corner.