that the laptop is functioning, that I’m typing now on the keys here at this Starbucks and not on my phone like some superficial blogger or teenager or early 20’s troll here in the corner. No judgement, or maybe a lot, but here I am… with a working laptop. Have to make this week more than the most fiery and creative ever. I’m going to say ‘no’ to things, and people. I’m only going to engage in what I want to, and for however long I want to.
Listening to a track by Karrin Allyson, “Samba Saravah”, a song I’ve herd I don’t know how many times— has me thinking about my traveling and lecturing, or speaking, or talking, in other countries, hopefully one day back in my city of Paris. Ça me ferait si heureux. (That would make me so happy.) And I want more music that takes me away from patter, away from the predictable pulse that too many just resign and subscribe to. On the Road I’d only have a Composition Book, as I’ve told you I don’t know how many times— but the link between music and travel today becomes clear in a way that I pinch myself for not earlier realizing. Now, one of those chill electronic beats I listen to most often in the car and during bathtime with the babies. Today ends well for the writer, and not just from the laptop development (have to stop mentioning it, I know.. pardon), but my time with the kids and the mood that precipitated from it, watching Jack and Emma just play and not care about anything but playing with each other and spending time with their daddy… Their focus on the moment and the explosively joyful simplicities of the day-to-day is more educating than any class I took, grad or under’.
Never written here this late, or at any coffee spot this late. Have to say, think I prefer it to the rushed and frenzied and long-line-prone jours. There is a man sitting behind me, on his laptop, his back to me, so the usual writer paranoia of ‘Oh is he looking?’ Doesn’t land on my nerves and on the brain branches. The rile in me persists. And I don’t see it slowing or slouching. Then I start brainstorming… the branches blowed and pushed around like some reverse-apocalyptic front.
Then, “It Takes A Thief,” of course by Thievery Corporation. I see a wine bar.. me in it… me owning it. Putting some new releases on the shelf, tasting the ones I have open before opening. Nearly noon… have a couple more things to do. Register, notebook ready, just wait for people. Cue playlist… songs like ‘Thief’. Write about the day, all about it.. note what people say about the wines and which ones are bought… the brain keeps with its storm, painting more pictures of me in my shops with my sister selling wine, preparing for our next business trip, visiting clients in other states… This week, this actual week, from this sitting and Starbucks Hopper and on, constructing a NEW wine story. All written. So what do I open tonight?