bottledaux, taking shape.  Never losing any Literary contemplativeness.  Today at winery, met another camera-carrying character much like Self– snapping blocks, rows, clusters just as I do.  Made me think of my novel, how time dissolves, and it [that bouldering novel] just has to be done.  But, I know I’ve written that before.  You know I’m thinking about time, acknowledging its attack.  In the writer’s glass, ’09 Meritage.  Finally starting to settle in its sequences.  Just like I.  The Self-publishing stash, to checking account, to be responsible.  Hate Self for that, but it’s what I honestly feel’s best for this blog, its “business” potential.  And I don’t want to be too much of a “business man,” too much of a record-keeper.  Just want to write.  I’m an Artist, that’s what I want 2do.  Test me, I dare U.  So is it right to view these screens in ways I am, of late?  Yes.  Just won’t let the Literary curves ever be lost.  In fact, had a thought this morning to use all bx entries, potentially I mean, from 1/1/12-6/30/12, for book’s sake.  I’ll see.  Another sip…  Definite musicality to this bottle’s momentum.  These Merlot clusters I shot, just after work, gorgeous, tempting my pen’s pulses.  Actually, I took these shots driving out the winery’s driveway, just before turning right on 12 towards Santa Rosa.  Looking at my little pages, not many notes, only a quote from one guest on the wine club patio, from Nebraska, where she said just after nosing the Chardonnay: “Oh my, what a lovely bouquet.” I thought about laughing internally, but offed such compulsion.  I think it’s simply my revulsion at that word, “bouquet,” that made me contemplate interior elemental tremor.  Tonight, my Friday night, somewhat, as I’m going back to winery early in morrow’s morrow for internship.  Learning.  Whatever I can.  I don’t care if the winemaker’s there or not.  If anything, I’ll write, snap more stills.  On the crush pad, in vineyard, wherever.  Don’t at all care.  I’m going to make it work for me [like Dad always says], my winemaking Ambitionz.  And shame on me for ever doubting Self, reconsidering my winemaking Ambitionz, or thinking of quitting.  ESPECIALLY when my label’s name is “whoso.” As in,  Emerson’s quote, “Whoso would be a man must be a nonconformist.” Denoting, connoting, REBELLION.  Being, staying, forwarding TRUE to one’s truest of SELVES.  I’d be a hypocrite, not merely contradictory, if I elected any other push.

I’m not surrendering.  Ever.

I’m making wine.

By mySELF if I have to.

I’m a writer, making wine.  So that’s how I’ll do.  Another sip of this ’09.. honestly, it lacks a little weight, gravity, presence.  I like the flavor sequence, palatable properties.  But it seems timid.  Maybe it’s the wine’s youth.  Don’t know.  I’m just responding to what I’m meeting, this night.  People often get too carried away when responding to wine, like there’s only one answer.  I remember one tour I did on the mountain.. 2 couples, one from Texas, the other from Southern California.  The man from Texas–and I may have shared this already–stole the moment from me as a guide, wanting to lecture the other couple on what constitutes a “good” wine.  Just jumped into thoughts, tonight.  With all the wine thinking I’m doing, the wine I’m enjoying.  Will everybody love my wine?  Of course not.  Like Katie said, “If you second guess yourSelf, you’ll never make wine.” Well, I’m making wine.  I’ll worry later about what consumers think.

Maybe.

10/7/12, Sunday, 10:59pm