And the day’s over. My mood, different. All developments, smooth, without bump or bubble. I sip my night’s cap, the remainder of last night’s SB bottle– well, some of the leftover. I dumped the rest. Tasted from barrel today, both PS and PV, and tasted from two tanks: for a ’12 Zin, one before addition, the other after. Showed me a lot about construction of a wine– or not so much construction but massaging of wine, communication with it, so it can deliver and boast itself most artfully. Also did one blending trial of ’11 Cab and Merlot with Sam, for a potential project this coming vintage, yield willing. Doesn’t look like yield will be any kind of problem, as every cluster I inspected today looked like it was painted on the cordon. The leaves were more lively with their color than a lion jittering to leap out at a passing piece of prey. Today wine spoke to me, not its industry. And it told me to just explore, have fun, and do whatever I want. I like that, frankly. Don’t want this glass to end, but I do, I want to get to my sparkling berry water, so I can wake early tomorrow morning, and write as I did this A.M. Walked into the the tasting room feeling like a journalist/diarist/novelist monster.
Tasted some nice wines at Mom and Dad’s this eve.. a french blend, an ’06 Keenan CF, and nice SB which I can’t recall from name. Wine was all around me today, and wouldn’t leave me alone; wouldn’t let me ignore it. Wine wanted me to see its shade, shape, sensual suggestion in its skip– It was telling me to calm down, follow my own composition: it’s not that serious; and those that take it so seriously, and that pester, just bloody ignore them… So now I think about the wines I bought the other day, from that tasting room on 12 & Adobe… When should I pop them? I need a night where I open at least three to five bottles, taste through them and note every hint/suggestion/story/voice/octave/song/layer/taste I bump into; I want to know wine better than any winemaker on the planet; and you know what.. I don’t care how many chemistry words and chapters and formulas they can regurgitate and/or recite. So many people that come into the tasting room ask me, “So are you a sommelier?” And one person the other day, I think even yesterday, asked me “So are you going for your Advanced Sommelier?” Why would I want to do that? And that documentary, only shows those people reducing wines to oddly adjective’d archs, certain slouches of self-blessing bulbs.. they’re ridiculous. I want to love wine for WINE itself. I’m not trying to prove anything to anyone, at all. I just want to connect with Humans that love wine like I love wine. And that’s it. Now, my glass empty. Good. I need to even out.
Sparkling water… and thoughts of today. Pairing perfectly. See? There. I’m a “Somm”…
Tomorrow night, first session of Summer ’14. Watch what I do… I’ll write you in morrow, reader, and we’ll empower from there, and not a cosmos’ comet will stop us, as I told an old friend earlier this evening, in a brief letter.