Taking a break from writing and grading and just exercising freedom. 

IMG_6585A freeness of self, of moment, of this coffee and my typing each key that puts a letter on the screen.  Wine has always been about freedom to me—  What do I mean “been about”?  I guess, entailing.  Ordering.  Being synonymous with.  Seeing a formula take shape, being solved before my eyes and other senses, not like it’s meant to be decoded, necessarily.  But answers I’ve been seeking for years are now plating themselves for me.  Right here, in this sitting.  Have you ever had that happen before?  So many ask me, as I’ve written here I-don’t-know-how-many times, “What do you write?” Now, I’m quick to say ‘Wine’.  But, education is my focus, and not education on wine.  Wine is the metaphor, the symbol and solvent to everything in my career, which could be seen as education but wine is always present in its inference.  If that makes sense.  It doesn’t?  Okay.  I’m working on it.

Hundreds if not thousands of wine and vineyard pictures on the laptop.  And for what.  To capture where I was, to remember it and later use it either on blog or some other expressive effort.  I was educated in that moment, even if I didn’t know what I was looking at in the vineyard.  I knew I was alive, right there, and meant to be right there as I meant self to be right there, in that row, staring at that cluster.  Right now writing in a café is wine.  Where?  In the growth from the moment, from this peace and meditation, the people around me and what they hope for, want in their stories.  It’s all not just connect but dependent on the adjacent narrative and characters, ideas.  So really I’m not taking a break but inventorying what I’m now seeing.  And in that, freeness.  I’m being educated, so I can’t say I AM educated.

See the sun going down behind me, my shadow on the wall, left.  Want to fit in a vineyard walk, take another set of shots, but I have enough here in this computer and on my camera that I’ve failed to utilize.  Not “failed”, just haven’t yet.  This coffee shop, my moment tabernacle.  I’m collecting, introspecting… see everything, and everything is wine.  The barista in front of me, changing the garbage bag… wine.  How?  Growth.  Work.  Labor, strain, sense, understanding, duty, the movement of everything is poetic.  Wine only sings the deepest and most convincing of verses.

Not sure if I’m opening up anything tonight, and I don’t need to.  I have enough from wine for the day in terms of what’s around me.  When my sister-in-law, someone I greatly respect and admire as a business person, told me years ago that I should start a wine blog, I didn’t know what to think other than I didn’t want to be someone who just “reviewed” wines and wrote some remedial descriptor cascade and thought of myself as some kind of expert.  I in no way have ever wanted to be an expert with wine.  I want to explore it, like with my own life, and try to have some definition associated, or at least some conceptual framework from which I operate, self-educate.