Some For

   Started an entry, but it was erased.  Technology and Time attacking me with brilliant tandem, I’ll admit.  Staring at barrels in the room and thinking of the wines I’m to make and the traveling ahead of me, pouring and recording reaction– now my mood falls, as it nearly did but didn’t earlier when I broke that glass in front of the two people from DC.  On lunch break, but, again, there is no break, I can only be suffocated by my own visions and dreams of wine and traveling, the blog and books in the blog– where I want to go, be.  And how is what I always pose to self– what do I need to be doing differently?  Like the DC lady said after hearing the two next to them at the bar lived just down the Road from Dutcher– “What decisions did they make in life to have that, a home here?  I want to start making those decisions,” she said.  I thought and think the same, ‘How do I get to the Road?  How do I travel and write and lecture, sell my work out of state, out of the country like Jasmine?’I’m getting there, I’m pretty sure.

The barrels to me speak, lecture with their own charming angularity.