Wine tells me this morning

to assume more inventive intentions.  Ditch old predictables.  Follow though with story but yielding new purpose.  Wine is most robustly life, empirically.  This morning, surrounded by this vineyard, and that one, just off the road’s side here in Dry Creek, I’m told to relax.  Not panic.  Not act with too much haste or hellish movement.  Calm, like winemakers on the crush pad or in the lab… measure.  It’s more than unhealthy, to force self into, well, anything… study, educate yourself.  Wine I had last night showed me different sides of existence, varied sides of wine’s tangibility.

Wine is about beauty.  Wine is narrative.  Wine assures, mends, decides.  We decide together to do everything different, here onward.  Even if you don’t drink wine, you must understand what it’s a result of– passion, education, health, meditation, happiness, knowldge, hunger for more knowldge– self-education, curiosity.  Wine is more than how it’s portrayed…  And I look out at some block, I’m guessing of Zinfandel but I can’t be anything resembling certain.  And I just look to look.  Thoroughly relaxed.  No panic.  Wine caused this, meant this, specifically wrote this scene– me here with my mocha thinking about where I’m going as a wine writer or journalist.. wine thoughts, more… me walking that vineyard, in this rain, I don’t care.  

I very much dare.

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