Back from drive and photo visit to a vineyard. Stopped at DeLoach, too pictures of the driveway and the fan off that main entrance. Quiet in house still. Wanted a glass of Chardonnay, but refraining. Why… thought of writing wines and not tasting them, distancing self for more dimension. You could say “You mean make shit up?” Kind of, but with more circuitry, more circulation and life, more playfulness.
Robert Craig…. Ladera. Remember tasting both in my days at ‘the box’. Don’t even want to say the company’s name. Why… to many why’s to calculate and catalogue here. The view from both properties, Napa… what Napa is and not how it’s stereotyped. May go to Bottle Barn, buy whatever Napa bottles I can afford, study, or just look at them and take pictures, come back here and write something.
Probably shouldn’t be telling you that I guess, huh?
Only white wine in the house currently, the Balletto opened last night and the Chardonnay from the VC guy. I ask myself, “What am I looking for in wine?” Stories. Pages. Character, characters.
3:50 Thought I was going to need a nap after the two taco anesthesia. ‘Stead elected espresso. Two bottles from Bottle Barn. Both Cabernets, both from Napa. Want to study the form write about it and BE it. More than something you just disregard as an IT.
Wine speaking to me, steering me in new directions, testing me and promising books. New realities and extraction from scene..
Vineyard, to bottle racks. More in my Road, more in my character grown, the ideologies of present and past, blend to bottle a future. Like buying futures…. Everything then and taste now, for the Then. Whatever bottle I open tonight, there needs to be questions, and then questions leading to more questions, keep me driving, sipping and scribbling.
Wine without even pouring self a tiny corner riles me to see more of ME.