cuvée kismet

img_9931don’t second-guess your thesis, or multiple directions and “directives”, as that one manager years ago used to repeat.  The wine, in its wandering herb-purposed posture and verse storm wields more code, more metaphysical boards and shadows, certain mysteries then unmasked and me tasked with saying more about the wine when I ordered sell to talk about writing, about writing for self, about the students tomorrow.  Sonoma County… all we’ve recently seen, and me since moving up here with family from San Carlos… remember that house, on Bayview Drive, so often and often even more dream about it.  Tonight’s prose strays.  But I’m on the floor, in a relaxed posture, pseudo-stance.  This is what I’m expected to do, I’d think.  What does this book want from me—  discovery, of me and my relationship with writing, why I write, what I want students to write for themselves.. posing to Self, “Do I teach?” Thoughts revolving and diving themselves over and over in my head, at the end of this day where I was a wine industry bot, welcoming people like I wanted to talk to them then taking notes on what they say, like that one guy who repeated, and I mean over and over and over, “…Rose… I’m getting rose, lots of rose on the finish… see, I can tell if there’s Hungarian oak on this or French… yeah, I have a really discerning palate.  I do.  Ask any of my friends… they plant rose at the end of the vineyard rows…

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mikemadigan

Writer/Blogger - bottledaux.com

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