Getting chapbook done, or at least printed TONIGHT. I know, me & my promises. Tired, after slow traffic in Room. Did manage to taste wine from tanks, a little from barrel, with winemaker today. Excited about this blend we’re doing. Already thinking about this vintage, and even ’14. My last night, in this writer’s retreat. Closed off downstairs, as I’m not distracted, only concentrated here in bedroom office. Don’t see Self sipping any wine other than remnants of last night’s ’07. I thought it was fascinating today, hearing Blair’s thoughts on our blend’s composition. So far, We have Cab & Merlot as leaders. Then, some Zin, Petite Sirah, maybe even some Petit Verdot. Then Syrah for topping, addition between/after rackings.
Can’t stop rubbing eyes. Exceptionally tired. I blame the day’s lazy pace. If I go to bed early, I’ll wake early, which’ll be beneficial as I’m picking up Alice & Kerouac at 1:45p, I believe. 1:30p, I find after checking my phone, a text she earlier sent me.
Thinking about something that character Tiffany said to me the other day about writing, as the topic arose during our dialogue, her saying something like “I love how you work on a paper long enough, and you’re finished, thinking ‘Wow, I just wrote this’.” That something has to be printed, to appreciate it as Tiffany stated. You don’t get the same from these blogs. Even the Literary ones.
Last night’s session, in thoughts now. Loved taking a pen to my pages, as I would my students’. Had on agenda getting to this semester’s syllabi, writing some lecture notes, but I don’t think that’ll happen. Maybe a little, but not impressive contribution. Just haven’t the energy.
This Room, closing on me. Cluttered. With my wines, papers, what have. Need my own office, that’s known. I mean.. it has to happen. All of these fixtures aren’t fair to Alice, or little J. And so, I find self overthinking. Don’t deserve capital “S” when I do. My keys, to right. Why are they getting my attention? Do I want to go somewhere? Thought about writing at Mom and Dad’s tonight, with them gone, in the Madigan Sunriver home.
Won’t lie, I’m watching the 2Pac film “Resurrection” again. All these flashes of ink on line, REAL page. That’s what I need do after this entry, the printings for book. Was able to research some French, Picasso, Van Gogh, Paris spots, other curiosities today at work, from pace tortoise’d. Just looked at clock.. 7:34pm. Maybe I can get to the semester work in these hours. Hope so.
Reading through day’s notes… Winemaking. Obviously my thoughts’ collective theme. Why do I want to make wine? To translate my favorite varietals the way I see them, how I believe they want to be tasted, heard. Then, blocked– Hate when this happens. Maybe Mom IS right, I need a break from page. Couldn’t hurt, to be honest. Seriously considering. Maybe only writing in newJournal, for introversion vents. Can’t afford Self depletion. -7:49pm