from this morning’s wild wine pages…

…my many early arrivals to property, is that wine and music MUST be harnessed.  They should always be in the same locale, in the same touch and growl.  Wine and music, the lady at the bar yesterday grooving a bit to the tune Thomas and I put on.  I’m in my shop, now, in my head, in my reality.  This tasting room, today, will be my shop.  The tasting I’m involved in, later, will be research, I guess you could qualify.  I’m a wilder than wild, wild wine writing figure today, more than I’ve ever been.  And time doesn’t matter, not one fucking bit.  I’m writing everything, even when I’m not writing. But I am writing, and writing to get to my shop, to my business, to travel like my Master Sommelier friend Brian, everywhere and everywhere.  To travel light, be like Indiana Jones, pardon the reference… in a different mind quip, this day.. why not.  Telling self to be crazier with my characters and words, syllables, songs.  Coffee still too fucking hot to really glue as I want to, but I do it anyway.  Nearly burning my tongue as I did in the car, my wife’s car which I brought today as mine need be services, and I set it back down…

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