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.