Old shot of a tasting at a spot I used to haunt in Healdsburg, I think. Imported wines, from several planetary parts. Reminding me that I need to travel, I need to get on the Road.. put everything on this blog and not think. One side of me growls, “Well, you need to sell your writing.” And I will. But now… review what I’ve sipped, what I’ve written and shot. Using what I already have. She, wine, wants that. Wants me to see more of her.
I stare at the colors, the contorted labels… what was I saying in head about the notes of those wines… who was with me? Who was watching me? What were the wines thinking when I lifted the glass, was introduced to … what.