Tonight, this first chapbook will undergo a racking, and re-blending of sorts. Another example of how wine, winemaking, and writing so closely link, intersect. Want the average length to be shorter, of each piece. In deepening my understanding of the analogy, the encompassing application of it all, I figure each page is like a case. 57 page = 57 css. A small lot project. May type some of the forgotten poems from the newJournal, the little black beauty log [with its sleek leather exterior], well as past blog entries [older than 8 months, like wine spending 8 months in bbl before its first racking]. Thought of this today, early A.M., after dropping Kerouac off at Lisa’s, traveling back west on 12 to get morning mocha.
Two tours on Mt. today. FINALLY deposited upstairs stash into acct. Was surprised, $846. That brings the amount destined for the Schwab1 to over $2500. I’m a little proud of Self, I won’t evade. And why shouldn’t I be? That’s all cash I struggled to pocket. I can’t help think to Self, “What if I made deposits, regular, of that magnitude, and higher, from writings sold?” Looking to rack 3 individual tracks into its new home, then one new piece written tonight.
Sipping Dogfish Head 90-Minute IPA tonight. May have SB later, or not. Not in much a wine mood. TV on, but everything I’m hearing annoys me. Why is there so much “reality” TV? What happened to those wildlife documentaries I used to watch, like the one on PBS I watched when I was young, back in the Bayview Drive house? The 17th of May.. I’ll be 34 in 12 days. HOW? Not going to dwell on it. Need to focus on the racking of this book. Not going to allow Self more than 4 rackings, the 4th being into book. OR, bottle, analogously.
Why do I still have the TV on? Think my mood may be southern, from this series of attacking allergies. Was going to run tonight, but late crowds at the winery prohibited that. Well, the crowds paired with the FULL glass of ’12 SB I had with co-workers. Tomorrow, in TR. Can’t let Self drink a single sip. And I didn’t today, till after I clocked [out]. Had 1 helping, dinner– didn’t want to be excessively stuffed. Had the tortilla casserole Alice made last night. Can’t believe last night’s meetings were final for term. Fall, going to instill the concept of Onus on day 1 as I never before have.
Book doc opened, looking at pieces I want to rack into 2nd barrel [doc]. The shorter the piece, the more fortified. Want my style to be rough, authentic, truthful, unfined. Hate the word ‘raw’, but that’s precisely what I want readers to think of when they hear ‘Mike Madigan’. Time for another beer, to start the racking. Again, no more than 3 standalones, 4 total [including the 1 new piece from tonight’s write]. Looking at stills from the other day.. so much more material to trap, record. This vintage’s vines, turning my time. Did I take any pictures today, of note? Hold on… Yes, I did. But I want this entry, or “post,” to emphasize my writing emphasis, obsession, practice. Not that I can pull a camera like one with a gun in a western, snapping a still by pushing button. We writers want to be known for our pages, our consuming habits.. what’s bound, not “posted.” Need to halt this rant. Notice I’m just prolonging the racking of this 1st book.