Tonight’s types– Chardonnay, Cabernet.  Not in a novel mood. Tonight’s one of those evenings where I just want to write freely, truly enjoy my truest of styles.  The chocolate accent’s more present tonight than 24 hours past.  Keep forgetting tomorrow’s my “day off.” Wish it truly were.  Teaching in eve.  Have papers to grade.  Behind, just like times old.  Keep stressing about writing this Kelly book.  Why?  How will that get it finished any quicker?  She wouldn’t want that, I know.  Compelled to take another sip, but resisting, holding in my types.  Looking at one of the pictures I took today, of the leaves, clusters.  Love this time, during vintage.  But they have to be picked.  Why is that tearing at sensors under shell?  Hard to tell.  Need music, but don’t want to wake little Kerouac.  Just the reason I need my own office, why I strive to one day one be obligated, EXPECTED, to write 8 hours a day.. not subscribe to clock spots, another’s druthers.  Now I’ll sip, celebratory, knowing certain curtains don’t dictate what’s the version certain.

A photograph I posted to the winery’s site received quite the response, today.  Photography, something I surely need pursue.  Like Kaz.  Speaking of my brother, sacrificed my lunch to pay his base a visit.  May not be making that SB with him.  May be a Cab, or Petite Sirah.  Not sure I want to produce a PS.  I’m not passionate about the varietal.  At all.  Has to be Cab.  And I’ll do the Chardonnay with Professor Kate, I hope.  Have to make wine where I can.  Maybe I can get a handful of leftover clusters from the winery, write a barrel or 2.  Has to be Syrah, that’s what I’d want from that estate.  Have touched my books in some time, only been tasting, toughening my palate, if you will.  Still don’t feel like it’s my Friday.  This Friday, in home by Self.  Not meeting coworkers anywhere.  Staying in castle, opening an SB, Chard, Syrah, Cab.. a mock-whoso tasting Room flight.  Can’t wait.  And food?  May simply have apps.. some cheese, crackers, veggies.. but I have to get writing done.  SIGNIFICANT progress.  I want some substantial cemented in 1 sitting.  Like all the artists I admire.. Poe, Pac, Plath.  Feeling reflective by this empty glass, wondering if I should add 1 more varietal to my lineup.  But is there another I enjoy to such a point?  What about a blend.. of Cab, Syrah?  I’ll do whatever I want, I’m thinking.  I know, I should be working on a book project, my novel.  But I needed a freewrite.  My former students would understand, especially those from that Fall ’09 1A section [peace, love].

Then, the night ends.  If I wake early tomorrow, like 5AM-something, I could have that session I did months ago.  The Barleycorn effort.  All for the novel.  That Self-published paragon manuscript.  Glad I’m done with glass, and that I filled that filtered water carafe in fridge.  Done typing, again.  Not natural.  Long 4 pen, ink.  What Plath grabbed.. what Pac stocked.

(9/16/12, Sunday)