Day 01, April 20, 2017, Thursday — Day I find what classes I’m getting in Fall.  Definitely booking two, no matter what.  06:56 now and I’m in the conference room, about to go to classroom but decided against, and I wasn’t in the mood for the adjunct cell.  Anymore.. I don’t want to be in any kind of box.  First coffee kiss… perfect.  An adjunct in the hall struggles with the door of the shared office.  One reason I wanted no part of that room, just for that, some scuffle with the door and the jingling of keys… can’t stand that.  So I’m here wondering what I’m going to teach but I recently reasoned that I shouldn’t do that, that I should just jump in there.  You know what.. I’m going to the classroom, now, to be a student of the students and that WILL make me a better teacher.  The business plan for me as a writer and general creative is ‘Education’.  So what is this morning teaching me?  Do things different, don’t overthink, and be FREE.  I never feel free in that adjunct cell/shared office.  I mean, I feel isolated, and alone, and with quiet to get work done, yes.  But I never feel free.

Shouldn’t have watched that murder mystery show last night with wife.  Should have read, written, done so while watching at the very least.  Maybe I need that, though.  Some kind of distraction.  This artisanal slice of regret this morning to pair with my coffee.  Possibly.  Why?  ‘Cause now all I want to do is write.  Looking at notes from yesterday’s stapled pieces of scratch paper from the winery, I wrote— “Watch character development. That way, YOUR character can develop.” Hoping my character further develops to what I want it—he, me—to be… traveling writer, teacher.  Photographer?  Why can’t I decide where I stand with photography?  Wife’s friend,’S’, took up photog’ as a hobby, left her job, and now has a studio spot.  “Of course,” I thought in the car while she was telling me this.  “Anyone but me.” I said to myself.  Completely the wrong attitude.  I WILL have my office, if I stay linear with my pages and always return to Education— be it with wine, with this morning and me typing in the deserted conference room… with Running and health, or fitness… educate, always educate.  I’m an Ox, not so much trapped in his book/bottle, but educated by it.  MY story.  WHERE I’m going.

The last project taught me that there is always a way up, and out, and if you need help to seek it.  But, many times you need to help yourself.  People so many times surrender to the mercy of the possibility of “the big break”.  Maybe we should give ourselves a break.  Maybe we should look to ourselves for our brick & mortar, or shop, or office, or studio.  We have to demand more from WE.  I wrote yesterday that “Calendars are shaped jokes. Does this have to be here and that there? I sat where I thought I should. Coffee drop.” Written at work while behind bar pretending to clean, but rather scribbling on a piece of scratch.  The calendar is a joke, but it’s not.  One day, you’ll wish for more squares.  Or maybe you’ll be fine, more than fine— elated!— with what you did with yours.  That’s my drive.  That’s what I want.

After class— fire.  With a useful creative ire.  Students and I talking about their final projects, or “submissions” as I say since I hate the word ‘projects’, and coming up with ideas that were reaches and some more linear, and some downright creative.  The authors this semester and the consistent rush toward freedom.  Very much healthy for me.  I feel myself becoming more a teacher and less a wine industry chap.  We’ll see.  But even if I’m in the wine industry, I’ll be speaking as an educator.  Acting like one, speaking like one, writing everything down like a lecturer…. I’m closer to the Road with the recent news I’ll be teaching in Summer.  Told myself I’d never do that again, but I’ll do anything that involves me teaching.  Today in the tasting room, watch…. I’ll ask sippers to offer their initial reactions.  Not at all talking down to them but interacting, exchanging ideas, thoughts, just the human reaction to wine.  Yes, Janet just told me I’ll be teaching over Summer.  Or rather, she asked me with a smile on her face, so eager and happy to tell me yet unsure I’d take the gig.  English 305.1.  The most developmental course we offer.  This will make me a stronger educator, I know.  Janet I think unsure if I’d take it as she knows my preference, and is all too familiar with my fervor for literature, philosophy, composition.  But here I am.  About to teach Summer, again.  I call later for Fall, but for now I’m in the educator’s pose.

Student in class re-worded my offering on ‘ire’.  At class’ end, when I asked what was on the day’s page, something I ask at every meeting’s summation, she said, “Write with an ire. Confidence, fire.” I joked with her in front of class and said, “Well of course, J——-, you have to say what I said better than me.” We all laughed but were lifted by her words.  And I guess I took some appeasement in knowing some of that came from me, teaching.

09:05.  Have to leave in 10, tops.  Want to just stay here and write… more thoughts from class.  Plan for next class.  Write the lecture and the timetable, questions… all of it. Maybe that’s what I should do at lunch, at the winery today.  And email it to the students!  Yes!  I’m ablaze, this morrow.  I’m Dad, in that Porsche GT (think it was), racing around the track, not letting anyone catch me, but me passing everyone, reaching every goal I put before this writer, teacher.  I’m learning that everything I want is already here.  I just have to be in constant re-write mode, and eventually I’ll have a book, books, and I’ll be on the Road sharing my story and what I’ve learned with the planet.