a critical article on it, one of the MOCK SOMM pieces but I’m in a spiral of collection, about wine and the wine industry, being an adjunct, and blogging, and how to do something with it. Thinking bigger than just the copying and printing of the ‘yrownjoy’ pages, just material, material! The wine, tonight, Cab Franc, a varietal I hardly ever touch.. So dark and suggestive of the gothic theme, and loudness of the innermost volume. I don’t know what I’m saying, and I think the wine wants me to shift gears somehow, be like it; underrated but if delivered in the right swing and animation, then there will be impact. Another glass, I’m thinking, this wine writer, deserving another after his long day.. and in my office, I’ll hold tastings weekly, for sure, just like at the winery– and I don’t know precisely where I’m headed with that address and sentiment.
Wine.. following me, and the Story, like I asked the students this evening, “What’s your story?” And I made them write about it. But what’s mine? A writer.. wine.. teaching.. father, husband, and now homeowner.. trying to grow up. And the wine, following me to the keyboard, and around the winery, and to campus, and to how I pick up the glass and nose what I’m about to sip, its thoughts and aims with me the writer.
Realized today, after talking to those people from Boulder, CO, and finding that my friend Kevin’s headed to Colorado, that I want to go, to the Aspen Wine & Food event, and blog it, write about everything, from the chefs and what’s served and what people are sipping and the weather; how cold it is and how much snow I can see, if any. And I have to start doing that, going to more events and tastings and restaurants, blogging and writing– or should I say writing THEN blogging– the way I want, the way I see myself doing. Call Sonoma County Wine Country Weekend, tomorrow.. Hope I can get 2 tix– Need a blogging partner, and … who…..
The old winery, anything but wine-centered, or focused on wine and the art therein and of.. but why am I talking about that? And why do I use ellipses so much? No more. My style, morphed. The wine, circling around me like the waves off Carmel’s shores, with its own undertow. And I don’t mind being submerged, the oceanic and oenological lecture of what I sip, from ’09, which I would think dictates indecisiveness as a wine, but no, not at all– And winemaking, for me, this vintage, no. I’m only writing, needing subject. SubjectS.
Hot downstairs. Not sure why. Alice made an incredible dinner and maybe I’m just full, the gluttony factor; full and uncomfortable. Done with the wine, and now I just want to sleep, but I don’t. Hope I get up early and finish these twit blog pieces and can get on with the Ox, pour everything in the bottle.