Waking this morning to be in the Kick Ranch vineyard, to shoot and blog and write about the pick– but no one there.  Glenn held up at another site and me driving around Kick looking for him.  No blame, no blame at all!  In fact, at one point I was quite lost and turned around in that pitch black stage and somehow finding my way out.  Proud of myself for solving that little vine block puzzle.  Not sure how, only time I’ve been out there with him is during day hours.  But what a world and dark universe, stage it is out there by yourself; no light and only random animals running ‘round you and across the road.  Jack rabbits, bobcat (saw 1), skunk (saw 2).  One rabbit, not at all afraid of my Passat creeping by.

So, I went back to sleep when again home, surprising Alice I was back so early, and thankfully not waking little Kerouac.  Just before sitting to these keys I thought about and nearly overdwelled on how tired I was, am.  But I wouldn’t let it stop me and I can’t as this Thelonious song plays, “Work”, he tells me something through his notes and rhythms and I can hear Beat writers past telling me to keep playing, keep writing, write till you find IT.  I’ll get in the shower around 10, then head to Petaluma for my 12PM meeting, then to the crush pad to meet up with Glenn and film more of whatever I can from the ’15 lenses.  Wine in everything in my thoughts.. and I do want to, if I can, get by Cellars of Sonoma to taste a bit and add to compiling content for the startup.. and individual pages today, clean the desk’s top, and organize further.. sooner than soon I’ll be in the office and I can’t let the overload or apparent deluge of content and to-do’s muffle or mute me or my progress.

Cup 3 at left, haven’t taken a sip, not yet.  More thoughts of selling wine creatively through the blog and through other crEATive streams.  And then my creative works, for ‘Mike Madigan, Author’, no forgetting that.  In fact, last night after the students at Mendo left I remained in the classroom taking advantage of the quiet and odd scene of the empty space and only me there still in my teaching position, sitting on the desk at class’ helm, one foot on ground and the other on the desk’s lower support bar.  And just wrote.  Week 5, done.  So now we see real progress into Time and what it put on a plate for me to work and suffer and write through.

Writings on wine.. the types I love and the types I avoid, and how to “analyze” wine or think about it– no, shouldn’t be a ‘how-to’ for any of it, I don’t think.  That’d be like someone telling me how should be listening to and appreciating this jazz.  Ridiculous.  Wine is music and it is a voice, a conversation between palate and flavored pulse.  It’s always yours and you should think of it and remember it so.

(9/18/15)