no time

Still more photos from day, I haven’t reviewed.  Two Mountaintop tours, on a cold, profoundly windy Saturday.  Found it Literarily valuable when I saw the straying cows jogging down hill, through those Chardonnay rows.  Sipping the rest of last night’s ’09 Cab.  Tired after today, sitting here looking over notes, photos, but with nothing to write.  What do I do, go to book idea?  Reluctant to throw Art away on this “blog.”

My notebook, the little one I carry to work with me everyday.. filling.  The man today, from Germany, visiting with his friend from WI, a woman owning a wine shop.  Made me think of those wine stores in France, for some reason, in both Beaune and Paris.  Hate when I slow like this.  Would love to blame the wine, but I can only thank it.  Need another glass, get further into its character.  Wonder what my wine’s will appear like to their future sippers.  Budgeting, budgeting…  Not for winemaking, but Self-publishing.  Using the $40 tip I pocketed, from MT group 1, to publish the chapbook.  Not a penny more.  Finally understanding, at close to 34, that budgeting entails not only a dollar amount, not exceeding it, but acknowledging what real fiscal reality is.. what I can AFFORD.  And $40 is it.

Lost in this entry.  Think this may be true exhaustion.  Need another pour, as this is going nowhere.  The TV, I blame it.  I blame all devices, really.  Should be grading, I know.  But not on my Saturday night.  Molecularly, I’m opposed to any responsible behavior.  Not tonight.  Need to craft a writing routine, somehow.  Always, I know, at day’s end I’ll transfer a paragraph or few to this digital bind.  Collecting poems, throughout day, as I need more pronounced standalones.  Have a couple rhyme cooking in little pages, that I plan to edit, and yes TYPE, after this “post.” With intent to sell.  That’s the whole point: spend time in studio, all day eventually, like Kelly, to move these pages like commercial units.  But that type of day, set of days, LIFE, needs routine.  The Kelly-caliber discipline.

Okay, new pour…  Doesn’t feel anything like a Saturday.  At all.  Feel lazy, indifferent, circular.  Hate that.  So one-dimensional, sitting here.  More like HALF-dimensional.  Again, another thing this “blog” is meant to deliver.. struggles, stalls of a writer.  Thinking of how to produce more standalones, rather than have a continuous babble gel set to page.  Didn’t do much tasting today, as I was driving all about the property, dodging straying cow clans.  Had a glass of the stainless steel SB after punching out.  Still my elected go-to.  Love clean Sauvignon Blanc.  I don’t think that varietal should ever be overcomplicated, overthought.  And again, I’m in thought over these writings.  Links between my world and theirs again sends its torque to my port.  More than lustrum.  Eternal.  Like wine’s impact.. what it’s done will never leave my position.  And I don’t want it to, ever.  Think that’s what makes a writer, or at least me; when one luminary component adds to your everyday, makes itself a thematic anchor in your work.  And least that’s what descended to me, aiding my ascension.   [1/26/13]