Jimtown. Love this place. Perfect spot for the writer to type or jot. Woke this morning and wrote over a thousand words. Haven’t edited it yet, and when I do it will only be lightly polished. Sister posting a picture of her travels earlier this morning, I start to sink into some sibling envy, and how travel for me is the apexing vision— but, I don’t know. I don’t know what to do to get me there quicker. And I know what you’re thinking, the metaphor of the vines, how it all takes time.. yeah, I get it. But I’m impatient. Yes, I admitted it. I have to work on that but maybe I shouldn’t, I sometimes think.. maybe I should embrace it. Keep advancing, charging at my goals, be like my sister sitting in that window seat with not a cocktail but a cup of animalistic coffee, stronger than anything I’d get at whorish Starbucks, or even here at ‘the J’.
Have to get going soon… but I’m taking my time. Maybe go in a little later this morning.. or maybe I should be early, talk to winemakers about their stories and what’s in barrels, get their insight and talk tasting notes with them, see what they see and see then what we collectively see. This morning, but easier than yester’s. And thank the Craft… thank the vineyards! Thank the coffee… thanks to all positive shapes and tunes in this writer’s life. Work.. work harder. Can’t believe I woke at 4AM, right when the alarm went off. Like a winemaker or vineyard manager or worker at harvest. What did I harvest, pick and crush.. what’s soaking? Thoughts.. actions, no plans. I will be on a goddamn plane soon, and not just to travel but to share positive wine and writing and teaching and whatever thoughts I can with whomever I can, wherever I can.