and I think of today so far, and standing out are the two cups of coffee I took from the 3rd floor and the cheese sampling in the back kitchen (our only kitchen). Visited a couple of the wines, nothing riveting, and talked to Zach and his wife Katie on the crushpad. Didn’t turn the lights on on up here, wanted and still want to see how the dark affects me. Nice crowd in here, talking but not with too much invasiveness, and the rest of the day who knows. Just deleted a sentence, shame, I need to keep typing like a real Beat and not regret a thing. MY budget nearly done and thinking about ‘Mp’ all the time behind that bloody bar, even researching Ferlinghetti’s City Lights Books & Publishers. The key is simplicity I again realizing and going big with small standalone pieces. Steely Dan playing in the background and I’m dristract by Time again, how I only have so much and what I do have is so/too quickly quelled in obligation. So the next day will be the same, and the same and… Love the dark up here.. wine, on mind, a wine bar, thinking of writing that 1,000 word piece on MY wine bar/shop, the idea, to form into something for my character and how she’d handle it. Want to ask Katie but don’t want to be too obvious, what would that do but break my cover, totally crack it rending stale ineffective and moot. Keep with my types, Kenwood, where I work and now break and break away from that goddamn clock– Thought from the other day, before I forget: the architects sketching on pieces of scratch paper, actually solving a long-standing dilemma from their San Francisco office, they just used the backside of the menu paper, worked on what looked like one part of a commercial building or space, a 90’ angle, and then from there they were distracted by what bottles they wanted to purchase and what they’d have in the office, and what — Company started not too long ago, again, and only 24-26 members, small firm and wildly successful, just like my press; small to large and to that ‘large’ from the smaller pieces. I have to get out, and I will by day 100, this is all about switching my Life to what I want for me and little Kerouac, and my queen Ms. Alice.. a house, property, the office, freedom, simplicity.. and it’s little Kerouac that really pushes me, fires further my fire. No more orders or schedules or clocks, can you imagine? Leaving the house whenever you want to or have to based on your project/s, their demands, and what you saw in that image of yourself, the defiance and the Autonomy, better than any bottle of wine. One of the owners of that architecture firm had to stay behind in the office to meet his deadline, and one of the other owners that was present that day said he was upset he didn’t get to join their retreat. Thought the dynamic was interesting and– Did I tell you this already? 23 minutes. Goddamn time. When back I hope to taste a couple more wines in the tasting room and figure out what exactly my target or specialty wine is, or would be in the shop for my character. Much I talk about owning a wine shop, I won’t, I don’t think. Rather, I’ll confine it to page, I’ll confine everything to page and sell them. Minimal overhead, as I want the majority of my stashes going to the house, the residence where little Kerouac and his future sibling will enjoy a backyard, build their thoughts and perceptions and form their own characters. The dialogues downstairs become louder, more intent, I hear some people, I think Teddy being one of them (my bartending friend), is one of the participants– Interrupted by Jeff’s wife, and I don’t mind, I actually learned from our brief interaction, about her needing a couple cases of Chardonnay and one of the neighboring wineries won’t sell directly to her and that winery’s distributor won’t return her calls. Don’t understand why the industry has to be so complicated when it comes to getting wine to a location. Where’s the formula, where’s the consistency and Humanness? I’ll never understand that, why wine’s industry overthinks so much. Oh.. have 16 minutes left, which gives me more than enough to edit.. tomorrow back at school, but just to collect those final papers. Run in the morning, then finish whoso edits, then 1A collection then write for over 4 hours, in library, and I want more than just ‘progress’, I want my character definitively changes and I want to bask in the stressful energy from the students.. and I want to write in the Comp Book, just brainstorm freely and wildly, and on the 4th floor by the Kerouac books. There will be a definition settled upon tomorrow, I can understand now, sitting here and my seated table in the loft’s darkness and I know what I’m doing, or I tell myself I do, just trusting that what I’m doing is what the story wants me to do– Thinking. Noting. Sharing. Mp should be a nucleus of not only written engagement but thought aid to other writers and thinkers, teachers.
And I’m still.. focus on singulars. Like.. the sample I tasted on the pad with Zach and Katie.. Cab blend, I’m guessing, and telling in its vocality and positioning. But not what I say is distinct. It wasn’t a poor wine, not at all, it just wasn’t a project that would set the globe ablaze, but I don’t think it’s meant to be, and they confirmed that: intended for the anytime sip. But I’m distracted by wine and if I should make it and that shop idea.. what if I did? And what if that became the family business, like Scooter & the Lighthouse? Something to sew, unsew and re-sew on the way back to the overflow lot. I should contact my sister I’m thinking now, afterall. See what her thoughts are on what be, wine and wineshops and labels and Cab fads and anything.