9am. Teaching tonight. Staying with spirits positive. Already graded a bit this morning. Changing the way essays factor into grades, both 302 and 100. Watching little Kerouac, so not much time for sentences. Planning on 2pm coffee shop arrival. Want all grading done by 3pm, for two hours of manuscript carving. Still looking through old material, stretching back even to the San Ramon days, my work weeks in the insurance office. Couldn’t imagine working in an office, anymore. Less it was my envisioned office, with all the amenities needed for creative momentum. This discussion came up yesterday, when on the mountain with a large group of members and two newlyweds. The bride said, “This is amazing, I’ve never seen anything like this. It’s beautiful,” just before getting into van, having one last taste of the scene surrounding her. I could tell she didn’t want to let it go.
Paid yesterday from SRJC. Much of the money, already allocated. Setting some aside for 2013’s whoso wines. Thinking I’m only going to do 1 barrel. Chardonnay maybe?
Making mySelf go by that Art supply store in Montgomery Village. Going to play with colors, like Troy, my friend Melissa’s husband suggested. Want my life enveloped by Art, knowledge. Started researching some things yesterday, about France, its history. Didn’t know the country has experienced– But if I go to that store, that takes time away from my book work. And the money I’d spend, away from Self-printing.. still undecided about my prospective drawing pieces. But in these lines, I’m forever assured. I never question whether I should write. I’m always writing. Right now.
Little Jack, close to walking. Difficulty keeping up this morning, only as I needed just a brush more sleep [interesting I used “brush”..]. And, the writer hasn’t had his coffee. But, Alice is bringing me, ever kindly as she is, the famous morning mocha, so needed by Mike Madigan’s manuscripts. Wonder what would happen, how my character would change if I cut out caffeine. I keep saying I want, NEED, newness. Maybe that’s a place to start. Should definitely do so with wine…
Topped both my barrels, yesterday. And relating it to the drawing, or painting.. I’d devote funds, energy, to winemaking before I would Art, drawing, I feel. Is that wrong, or is that what I should follow?
Not overthinking. Illegal in my writing’s immediacy. If there’s no bigger table available at 12 & Mission, I’m heading to the office. I do like the isolationist feel of that little enclosure. My number one objective, today: ADD to BOOK. Could be doing that right now, with little Kerouac finally down for his afternoon siesta. Time, 12:35p. Was just thinking about the vineyards, where they are in their stages. We have seen some buds breaking around the estate, higher elevations, western and southern facing. Definitely some of the buds pushing, at the very least. Again, relating this to my life as a writer, just as I did last year, at AV Winery, with their estate coming to life. Heading up there Thursday, to pick up shipment.. 3 bottles of ’10 Sophia’s Hillside Cuvée. Not sure where I’m going to put these newest bottles. Space for my collection, thinning. Yet another reason I need a Room of my own.. my office eventual.
Thinking of what to log next. Here. Stuck. Still– OH.. my photos from the silver memory stick, from when that gentleman on Santa Rosa’s west side retrieved–really RESCUED–hundreds of Jack photos, and other captures, from my deceased phone. Need to go through those, for writing’s sake but also for the albums I want to put together. And that, takes time from my manuscripts, these books. So where would I have time to “draw?” I do want to, if anything just play with colors, pencil and brush movements. I’m just derangedly protective of my time with page.
Character from work, his intellectual pursuits, motivating me. Researching France, Art, Wine, Winemaking. And logging my findings, for example: in researching the Hundred Years War, learned that “chevauchees” translates to “plundering raids.” So much to France’s history, culture, different regions. And my French word of the day: une friandise, meaning “treat.” Need to intensify my French language research. Truly immerse mySelf in it, well as the culture. Still hate that word, “immerse,” though. “Immersion” as well. Used, misused, over-misused at the box. But I don’t want those oozing warts in this entry, or around my Art and cultural concernments.
Paintings, from Orsay.. on brain. Loved walking through those halls, seeing all the Monet’s, Van Gogh’s… Missing my city. Time for lunch.
Monet, his obsession with light and objects, possibly relating to this paragraph practice. Possibly.
Between classes. Why not write? Sent 302 to library to research Autobiography; what it entails, how it brings both story, message, meaningfulness; I want them to see it more than just a “genre” or style of writing. Going to do the same with the 100 students, as they close up “Sun Also Rises.” Adding Hemingway to my research list. I remember in one of my past Comp Books–the green one I think, from ’09, the one I brought to Paris.. the one I called “Green Mead”–I had an envelope, upon which I had vertically listed interests, or intense interests, or goals. Can’t quite remember, but I had quite a bit on there. Starting another, on one of the copies of a past typed lecture. Done. Has 4 items. Only writing on 1 side.
Starving. Should have had more to eat, today. Had Alice’s leftovers from last night’s restaurant. Felt a little anxiety for last class. Not sure why. Had a couple sips of water and it was done. How odd, though.
Visiting my wines again tomorrow. Want to meet with winemaker on his thoughts. We had such a great discussion yesterday, tasting the 2012 Chardonnay as it went through filtration.
8:53pm. Just put 1029 words into novel. New words that I just wrote. What just happened? How am I not writing for a living, selling my work? Why aren’t I? What’s wrong with me? Never done that before. Started, 8:20p. And I just finished. Over one thousand words in just over 30 minutes. Kelly, very much to credit for this burst. Love the quiet of this building, the latter hours. No students, no snobby full-timers. Love.
8:55. Leaving in 5. Love sittings like this. These are the ones I remember, that keep me writing. Walk away from my body, my body of work, knowing I love writing. The language.. the chase, in my own thoughts, for BOOKS. Hungry.. extremely. Need a beer. To celebrate this session, the 3 pages I just injected into my rebuilt book.
NOTES: wines, visit tomorrow; taste through what’s poured in TR, see if there’s some character type you want in your ’13 wine(s); write in Comp Book when home, spoken word.. MORE POETRY; download music, new songs for office not that distant; go through little pages, look for gems; return to 1st blog, look for gems; keep “the box” in scope.