Tired and lazy,

cluedknot and sluggish, after dinner at Mom and Dad’s, and after viewing the house that we both want ours. I sip my night’s cap, Racer obviously and try to push through my tired talk inner; today, wishing I would have run earlier but I didn’t– BUT I did get over 1,000 words into novel, mostly dialogue, developing further Mr. Massamen’s character well’s his friend’s. And for the first time in my writing Life, a character taught me something, as I was writing his lines; what I should do and how I should view wine.. tonight, two wines tasted, a Syrah made by my sister’s friend (PRIDE) and the Pinot my sister bottled.. both with song and vibrant message, but I have to say the ’11 Syrah from Pride had me more observant, attentive, attracted. And then I ask myself, “Which could I sell easier through words, through posts to this blog, or just ‘period’?” I’d say the Pinot, on varietal alone and the body and progression of the wine is such that the pedestrian palate would be more reactive, conversant with its notes. But, that Syrah, to a learned sipper, which I somewhat see my Self, has more magnetism, more.. wine on mind, and what I can do with it; how I can write about it, bend it, drink more of it to become more unified in its symphonic sorcery, and why me? ‘Cause I want to write, and about it, about wine, sip it and think about it and sing from it.. and when on the Road, in my hotel room I won’t go out but stay in the room and write down singular words, whatever comes to mind while I sip, thinking of my son and my wife and any other child we have and what they’re doing while I’m out, on that Road, making money to pay for our new home.
I’ve decided, I do want to make wine this vintage, some Cab or Pinot.. thinking Cab. I love Pinot and yes I am currently in a Pinot basilica, but I’m one of the Bordeaux ball, and I have to dance so.. so….. I’ll again talk to Mark soon and see if I can secure a bit over a ton of Cab, maybe from Dry Creek.. or AV. And I’ll take notes each step, type and print and document my trail as a winemaker, even thought I’m nothing of a winemaker, just a writer wishing to make wine to write about the process and how his character changes– to get close to wine as principle.

I look at the wine, in the glass I hold angularly and think about all the time that went into what I’m about to sip, write about then forget. Those picking these grapes left their families at who knows how early, worked harder than most of us ever will (certainly this writer!). Want to write about that, too, I realize.. the vineyard crew. One think I can thank K—- for is the chance to film that, in ’12, waking early and leaving my family, but not to pick, just to point a camera and shoot.. need to revisit that footage; how they moved and the way the lights picked the certain scenes from the estate, the rounded landscape.. I’m again seeing, and it started this morning, in the dark, while my allergies me pummeled.