Day 9.  About conviction, about defiance, about all of us finding what we’re searching for.  Coltrane playing me and eased track.  Didn’t record my spoken word piece yesterday.  Was distracted by that bottle of Inspiration Syrah, the quiet of the house, and thoughts of writing about the wine industry.  When in my office, I see such a book taking shape, in not much time either.  Citing everything from the ridiculous pay, to the overwhelming focus on anything but get wine, to patterns and posturing from those patterns.
A truck passes me on 128.  Hate typing on my phone, but this is what I have currently.  Hoping for a day not at all busy.  Not at all preoccupied with the winery making its number for the month, but more my sanity, my sentences, this project and others.
This week in the office, I’m going to loudly and communicatively accelerate all movements and sights.  Why can’t I be the highest selling AE in my first year?  There is no law or rule or policy prohibiting such.  Actually, Sonic is the atmosphere that enables and emboldens such a progression to take place.  Whatever we do for work, we need not only make it our own, but have it teach us and be a measure of effort.  We should always seek to against ourselves compete.
Bed early tonight.  Wake at 5, 4 if you can.  At the end of 100 days, there will be a visual of such altitude, such attainment.  If I’m not the highest earner, I’ll have shocked everyone with what I’ve done.  Make calls, SET APPOINTMENTS…. just say hi.  Forget about return, certainly immediate return.  That’s a foot shot, I’ve learned, and an error the wine industry continues to seemingly want to make.  And I e never figured out why, why they expect such instant transaction and metrics ascension.  I’ve given up trying to learn, now focusing on my Sonic story and sense of new sense and story, character.
This writing spot, little spacious and sizeable inlet, used to write here in 2012 as I mentioned, and later in 2017 when working at the Foley camp.  Now, story is different.  Not at all fearful to question and defy regularity and policy, not that I was before.  But Sonic has shown me that one idea can prove purposeful and provide a purpose which pervades till your final day.  Such is now, such is me, such is my poetic and newly purposed immediacy.
What do I want from the day.  Peace.  Ideas for this week.  Ideas on growth, branding and rebranding but more than that…. CHARACTER.  Story.  Life.  Revolution.  Start acting like a revolutionary, I said to myself and some other people at Sonic a few months ago.  Today…. watch.  And won’t do so with malice or a burn-bridge intent, but to have my identity known.  For all in contact with me, not just for me.  If I’m not making sense I apologize….. you’ll see what I mean, shortly.


Office getting quieter.  Many gone home.  Staying here to get head start on tomorrow.  Desk a little bit more organized than before.  Only a little.  Well, maybe more than a little.  Set three appointments today, which isn’t bad.  Was hoping for one more, but I have tomorrow and a new set of prospects to hit. My approach to my agency is connectedness, conversation, helping others convert and grow their business.  There will be a return, I know.  Thinking about how the day started with my late start and rush to a meeting, having a meeting after that with one chap in business and explaining what he does, me writing in my head ideas for my practice.  Mothing of mimic, but from the unintended encouragement of the conversation itself.

My P-O-Z Agency is all words.  That’s it.  All language, communication, the poetic hand in business.  Little over 20 minutes till I leave.  And before I do, more notes to self.  More notes for the meetings I have queued for tomorrow, one in morrow then one at lunch.  Keeping the motion not only constant but ravenous.  Hungry, a constantly present and pursuing atmosphere and phantasm.

As the office quiets, I want more.  I want to explore more of this—where I am and what I’m doing.  The decision to leave the wine industry and pursue something different, something new and an equation to solve, or play with, explore.  Just see what happens.  That Newness, the new experiences craved by writers.  And that’s what this is, do note, a writer, of wine, wandering in tech and the internet’s frame and dimension.  Not so much to find something, or maybe it is, but to observe and learn and keep observing and wandering.  I’m in a stage of my story where there’s more life in what’s around me, the seemingly plain and mundane, that I ever before estimated.  This office, this company and its collective voice and steps, its BEAT, its music, has done such.


Less than an hour left in day but I don’t at all plan on leaving at five.  Not even minutely.  Stay an organize, and more than organize, PLAN.  Write the vision, writing more for the business, my business and practice.  Consolidating everything.  No complaining, no turbulence like yesterday which I let happen.  Today walking around Petaluma for new business with department head showed me about voice, approach and wording. What my old wine industry friend said, less is better… less is always better.  And he’s a winery owner, one you’d think is always looking for new approaches and new ways of doing things in day to day operations and actuations.

Movement is the principle to be embraced, and consistently practiced.  And in simple, singular sets and strokes.  And these steps are not really that simple, or one-dimensional.  They are loaded with amplifying potential, and life, a sharp vivacity.  The department head, Mark, told me to keep doing what I was doing, and remember to just be myself.  Talk to people, learn about them, tell them what we’re doing there. Make it enjoyable.  Ideas and thinking shapes I already know and enact, but to hear it reiterated by him was elevating, poetically.

Interrupted to tend to another thing. What I’m noticing more about my business life is that you anticipate distraction.  Write in sentence of shorter length and sharper connection.  Wine after work.  Not sure where.  Have idea for somewhere new, but not sold. Everything comes back to wine, what I thought and still think walking those vineyard blocks, this morning waking and realizing the Malbec last night didn’t say much.  Which is fine, more than fine. That’s instruction, elucidation of my story and character station, not ever allowing moods or some disposition complacent.

Need a walk, some air, a break, or just a walk to have thoughts land on me like curious wings.

… through love of wine, the vineyards, walking in vineyards as I do.  I opened the blend, red blend, from Inspiration last night when home from Mom and Dad’s, and she forwarded in random beats, spoke with curiosity and certainty, helixed in amorous shape and tone. I know I’m home on this page, with her, I knew I was last night.  The red fruit syllables sang in tandem with terrestrial chords and peppered curvature.  Again music, again poetic.  What is was was time and me in that time, right there with her.  That’s all I knew, know. That’s all there need be.  When wine is overthought it’s forgotten.  You’re at that point not into the wine anymore but whatever thought stream you’re on for whatever reason…


Day driving around wine country and being in wined character.  After going in to office this morning to work a bit but more for writing, writing in a place that is mine, where I am me and collected and collective in my wined music velocity.  Poured self glass of the Delectus Sytah.  Think there’s two glasses left, I don’t know.  Sipping slow.  Letting her to me speak.  Wine tells me to mind pace and be more with music’s quip and code and only speak that language alongside wine.

Had to use money that was in envelope.  Back to first square.  Less than that.  Not worrying.  The Syrah is singing to me and telling me to write, go through pictures from that Dry Creek vineyard, pick what music and dialect you can.