drawn to it like soles to ground.  A new Beat over and over and again rewritten.  Memories, affinities, affections.  Nurse and I last night finding a bottle of that Duckhorn AV Cabernet at Nugget after dinner at the Thai place next door in Vacaville.

It means something us, reminds us of our first date.  I remember thinking putting it into our cart that wine’s definition is in no way brief or short, or even “extended”.  It’s one that doesn’t end and writes itself tirelessly, then rewrites with a sorcerer-like sharpness.

Want that passion again, reaching out to a friend I used to work with in 2015, he now at a Russian River producer not far from the my loft.  See where it goes.  Curiosity, wandering with no aim but just dying to feel that passion again.  My sister the other night talking about her travels the other week and pouring and talking to vendors or accounts about the releases.  How quick and sped and rushed, intense the day was.

And it flies by.  PASSION.  Not drudgery.  Obsession, excitement.  Fucking LIFE in what you do, your day-to-day.  Huh, imagine that.

That’s what driving through the wine world does to me.  Reminds me of that feeling and dares me to take a risk and go back.  It happened this morning, and every morning I commute to this fucking bland meal of an office from Vacaville.

Every page will mention wine or the vineyard.  Every note.  Every random and wild and irresponsible fancying of going back.   Digging deeper into memory and trying not to look at my phone or this computer, at pictures from years ago.  The Dutcher Crossing vineyards I’d walk on my lunch break.  The owner would often mention how I’d do that, to guests, that I’d go out there with my journal to be “inspired” as she’d put it then ask me to speak about my walk.  I’d always say, “It’s just, where I feel the most me…”

Still is, even thought I long to be there and walk a group while the carry their glasses, telling stories and learning theirs, what brought them to Sonoma County.

I’m after obsession, fuck the obligatory.  This VINOVINEVIN idea haunts me this morning, now at 11:30 in Rohnert Park, in a office that is colorless and soulless, soul-sucking and antithetical to anything I want in my life.  To how I want my kids to see me…