6/20/12. Thought of ending blog at year’s close, writing with a definitively universal organic approach, meaning only pen, paper.. has to be done. Think the blogging may be hurting me more with each “post.” Reason I’m going to write for bottledaux till 2013’s doorstep, so I can have a year’s cellar-worth of material for books’ purpose. Don’t want to be blogging, especially “wine blogging,” in my mid/late-30s. I’m an Artist, and want to create, breath only for Art. Picasso didn’t have a blog, so why should I have one? I’ve said this I-don’t-know-how-many times prior to this sitting… No author I follow, have studied [in books, not on conveniently mindless websites] had a blog, or website. And yes, I hope to one day be in their league. Was funny today, some of the lines from guests I put into my little book. They won’t ever be found on this “wine blog.” Only in a later printed project. And that’s another reason I find this web journal, or log, or whatever “title” you’d it award, so harmful to me: it’s much too convenient, far too immediate. And honestly, the thought’s not even worth a “post.” Topic next …
Tonight’s wine, an ’08 Cab from SV Winery. Haven’t had a first glass yet. But I’m excited to see what’s waiting in that bottle. Was opened yesterday, in the tasting Room. Couldn’t believe how hot it was today. And the vines, it seems, can’t get enough of the sun’s scenes. Katie leaves day after morrow’s, for France. So I won’t have a chance to meet with her on 11MKCS. No matter. And yes, I realize I used to write “MKCS11.” First sip of tonight’s CS, rich wild berry, coupled with chocolate, maple, vanilla and white pepper. Almost feminine jazz singer-like tannins. The nose, enough to coerce another kiss. Its chroma: deep, evasively magnetic; enigmatic; dark purplish violet angles, edges; mystic, cryptic.
6/21/12. And finally, most of the symptoms have fled. Can’t remember the last time I had food poisoning. Had to call into SV Winery. Luckily, my tasting Room manager’s a nice guy, and there was no friction or suspicion like with Dry Creek Winery. Now, I’m at keys, sipping water and Diet Coke. Most of the day, been in bed. You never value life like when your health is challenged. But either way, I’m in session. The Self-publishing, has to wait. Simply, I can’t afford it. So, like I reasoned on one of my Napa Literary Lunches: “all2blogz.” It’s all I can do, momentarily. And I am writing, somewhat “publishing.” And this log will forever be more Literary than wine-wound.
But just my energy re-ferments, I tire. May lay down, just for a bit. No way I’m missing another day of work tomorrow. Definitely no wine tonight, and maybe for a short while. This little spell has me thinking about my habits on and off page. Taking a break, for some of the Jello Mom brought over. What all this means, since waking incredibly ill and uncomfortable this morning, for a writer: re-evaluation. No morning mocha, either, in morning. My new habit; expressed discipline. These Wine Bar beats on the Thievery Corporation station urge me to clock out, go downstairs, relax. But, carry the little notepad with. Would much rather be at work, analyzing all characters, entertaining ways I can use them in this newest of book ideas… More than anything: BOOKS. Not blogs. But the blog, all this independent penman can muster from budget. IDEA! .. Watch a writing movie… Pulling “Crashing” from cabinet here in desk. Want to see how the main character, Richard, put his project together, living with those two girls. And when he was done, he left. Thinking the same will be true with me, the wine industry.
6/22/12. Friday. “Or maybe not,” I realize in response to my concluding line above. The wine industry, much too fun, as I’m making it my own–that lifelong learning leap. So glad the food poisoning’s force has left. But, I’M left exhausted. When I arrived at the winery this morning, I didn’t think I’d make it through the shift’s stretch, to be honest. But, here I am, after the 8 hours. No wine tonight, and obviously none last. Hoping I’ll have the wherewithal, tenacious strike to rise 5.5 hours after laying down, like Mr. Barleycorn. I need to finish this project, otherwise I’ll never be heard, I’m feeling in my reflective repose.
Was in such a struggled and strained stride today, after yesterday’s depleting constituent skirmish, I didn’t scribble a single scratch in the little book’s pages, today. It’s fine, I’m at the keys now. The spoken word pieces, still being scribbled. Makes me think of Plath’s entries again [my spoken word projects], how they never seem to stop. Till they actually do. Almost all I thought of yesterday, confined to mattress… What if my entries were suddenly stopped? Hate thinking like this, but as a WRITER & ARTIST [not wine blogger] I have to. If yesterday’s episode would have been more than just a simple food-centered toxic interlude, how would my pages be seen? Makes me realize I need to get more serious than ever concerning organization, consolidation. And, most importantly, RELEASE/dissemination. Page sales. Again, reader, sorry to broach this discussion plain, but yesterday showed me that my scribed saunter is subject to uneven Equilibrium. So, now, more writing. Only solution.
Today’s weather, beyond odd. Last night’s “exiting chills,” as I called them in the little book just a skip over 24 hours ago, only a blink or 2 before sleep, seemed to return this morning, walking out into teasing rain. Felt like the soft needled drops were telling me to stay home, write. “I can’t,” I remember telling the them, in the safety of sovereign secluded thought. So, the whole day, my cognition was knotted. Pleasantly perplexing. Now, I’m able-bodied to the point of penning prose. But not too much. Need more sleep. Hoping tomorrow holds a bit more sun for those rows at the winery. Just thinking about those forming clusters, the wines I pour in the tasting Room, the reactions from guests… “The industry” will never be rid of the writer. Picasso persona.. Bona sera … [9:59pm]