habitual anchor

Wrote a sovereign piece today.  3 pages, 1000+ words.  To book project.  Or, “idea,” really.  No wine this night.  As tired as I sit here, I’m planning on a late session, and early rise session.  J. Barelycorn’s ways, still very much on mind.  So thankful for the cooled atmosphere on Sonoma’s side.  The vines are too, I’d imagine.  Finishing a verse in Comp, and plan on more verse–mostly verse, actually–tonight, while under sheets.  Want to dive deeper into fictitious frames, though…

Thinking of tasting Rooms, the different shapes they take.  Not entirely sure what to do with these thoughts, so I think of characters I’ve met in different Rooms; the different shapes they take; attitudes, habits, pet peeves.  The different appearances a counter, or bar, can present to a visitor.  I love the symbol of a bar, what both sides represent, how wine’s present in different forms on those two sides.  “Wine education,” just find that humorous.  Not sure why.  Sounds so self-elevating, indulgent, to me.  The tasting Room, theoretically, entails openness, exploration, a certain innocence.  Why is it elementally and atmospherically re-blended in so many cases?  Not what wine should be.  BUT, it offers much needed material for this penner.

8:19pm.  Not a bad day for writing.  Glad I printed the day’s 3 pages.  Finally.  Hope to stay in that habit.  Using the laptop as more of a typewriter.


6/19 – 7:37am.  Only Comp Book, today.  No typing, I won’t allow it.  Only song, stream-of-conscious diarist rhyming.  What I’ll speak into the mic, on stage, in some café.  Woke feeling incredibly Artful, Musical.  So, only song.  Like 2Pac, 3 tracks due by day’s end.  AT LEAST.  Coffee cooking downstairs.  No coffee brothel visit, except to get Alice her hot chocolate.  Want those 14 track for the album gathered by end of this week.  And I want to keep collecting.  As an Artist, I want my pieces gathered into their own little legions.  Swarms, feel a better term.  Sometimes, most times, I’m pushed to write away from wine.  This music, MY music, I want to be me, and if wine’s part of it, then so be.  But the priority is capturing what’s in my head at the time.  Like right now, my desk’s surface stands covered in clutter.  First couple sips, ready to write.  Starting Self here, in this entry…  “Situate my sense in a stimulating sarcophagus, no retreat, my body’s just..”

NOTE: go through winery notes in little pages