Tag: self-employment

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7:56AM, and I’m up playing with Jackie..

posting to client 2’s blog, sending a thousand word writing sample to a prospect, and keeping busy, not stopping.  At winery today but I will leave early to write in Healdsburg, get ahead and get work done.  Tomorrow has to be spent planning the semester and writing lectures and grading the Summer papers.  Texting client, busy busy busy, and all while keeping Jackie happy.. Drinking the horrid coffee, not that bad this morning, certainly providing fuel.

Posted video from the other day, Kevin and I walking through the vineyard– shit, have to charge good camera’s battery.  Where is it? Oh, in bag.. now I’m just talking to myself.

On couch now with Jackie, watching one of his favorite cartoons, Ninjago.  Should run tonight, speed work on the tread like I told Alice last night.  The coffee this morning doesn’t make me as uncomfortable as with last cups.  Now I wait for the day to start and wait for more wined material.. hopefully will get to meet with Glenn later, to sit and talk about harvest 2015 and when we’ll launch, and what to expect as a journalist/writer. 

NOTE: input two receipts in ledger/register.. tracking every penny as to not be tight as I was a couple days past.. diversifying my business strategy with mmc.. wake earlier, transfer those notes from the little notebook!  Just thinking with my ideas armed and I won’t stop.. there’s never enough material, in my belief. always room for more content.

(8/9/15)

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Had an idea

but lost it. Second cup of coffee I blame that– Thinking of writing from the golf course, actually, a little more quiet and I can write from the outside patio, clear the path for thought and the re-writing and just something contrasting the stapled normality of my sessions.. 7:49 and little Kerouac is dressed, ready.. I re-heat his waffles as they became cold and soft and the little royal isn’t pleased with their presentation.

Writing microfiction– already have the stories and narratives in head, transfer transfer– losing Self in this page and time and coffee, so stop–

But then I come back to note I remember: a longer piece for the first pamphlet of ‘yrownjoy’.. character-based and narrative and ten pages.. short story, about a mid-20s girl who writes plays and wants to act in them as well, and does whatever she can goes up and down the west coast performing, slipping her scripts to whomever. The focus being Art and Life and struggle, self-employment and no I won’t make these hashtags…

And it was one of those mornings with the little Artist, worst in a while, but I forget how hard it must be for him, being three and already having a schedule; going to school then coming and home to play only to have that play interrupted by his pestering parents so needing to keep him “on schedule”. I hate myself for getting frustrated and am nearly brought to tears in this Starbucks thinking about it but I move on and write for him; write my family toward a position of great comfort never having to worry about money or anything, to truly live and live freely.
Bought myself a little breakfast sandwich as I feel my core’s seismology call to me. Writing the MOCK SOMM article, the first of two for the day, then write in the ‘yrownjoy’ project.. then leave to get dental meds.. ugh the dentist office.. and, ugh, this schedule. It’s hard for me, being so organized and regimented in Time so I can only imagine how it frustrates and sits with little Jack.
Started the article and watch people walk in and out of this shop, on our old block. Ten years we lived in that condo, and like Katie last night said the house we now have has that ‘forever potential’.

A guy sits on this cushioned wall-bench-seat. Also types, plugs in his devices, and I get annoyed. Why. Wanted this space to myself. I have it to myself so what am I talking about. Have to write myself out of this mood– I think about Jackie and worry he’s unhappy at school today– should I have kept him home with me? I’m a wreck, the Mikey-a-Mess role and persona and attitude..
I hate the music here.
Should write at home. Enjoy a long shower and write/type in the study, that first room when you walk in.. collect Self.

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Today, about

re-posting and marketing. Was just standing here with my coffee thinking of all I’ve written, all the sittings devoted to the blog and if I don’t redress them or revisit them, even re-read them with some sway then they’re forgotten, a wasted effort– not even “wasted”, just forgotten altogether.. I don’t want that and WILL NOT have that for any of my standalone pieces, poems, entries, jots rants scribbles none!

Taking Jackie to school then from there to Starbucks where I’ll write two MOCK SOMM pieces, both on.. well you’ll see.. and some micro fiction, maybe, eitherway I want two hours of undisturbed writing.. and the rewriting I thought of last night.. today will be a day for me, no doubt, even the dentist office visit I look forward to. Fill these income gaps, I order of myself, and fill them quickly.. once that happens I’ll be more centered.. get Creative, think inside no box!

(6/2/15)

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2day’s story–

IMG_57786:54, just got to campus. Optional day for students. Thinking of new ideas for what I’m building in being a writer, and putting the novel on hold, or rather having it be my toy truck project. One student in room with me. My adjunct days, or the dependent/co-dependent days of living so are coming to an end. Won’t go off on that and I know you think I will, but I’ll refrain..
The wines from yesterday, and just how I felt driving around, introducing myself and finding new interpretations of varietals and business models.. has me thinking of expansion, and doing something MAMMOTH in the industry.. blogging and tasting and Art and photography.. all of it, and blending it with literature.. saying this wine would pair well with– OOOO!!! Just thought of something else.. have to type it.. “class” if you’d call it that starts in 3 minutes, now 2. Jackie and I up at 2 till after 3 watching cartoons, but I have coffee don’t worry. Told Alice I would sleep between classes but I don’t see myself doing that, knowing me and how much I want to write after yesterday’s RRV mission…

Home. And I’m writing. Posted wine review, see what happens.. think there’sIMG_5746 something quite valuable and antagonistic, valuably antagonistic in this MOCK SOMM column.. again, we’ll see. I am tired but I know if I have just one cup I’ll write luminously and with seismic force.. I say that and cringe, thinking of the people in Nepal. How and why does life do that to people? Wish I could fly there, document it to tell there story, and help in other ways. But I know me and I’m certain I wouldn’t be able to handle it; the pain, the death, and the sight of harmed children. Was going to watch a WWII doc the other night and stopped when I saw a baby crying, atop rubble. I felt sad, sick, and ashamed I even saw that pained curvature to its eyes, mouth, brow, arm.. ugh, no more.
And my baby, little Kerouac, up early this morning with his cough and me bringing him downstairs to get his mind away from the discomfort, turning on cartoons. He was much better, more talkative and expressive for it, and we all went to bed for a couple hours following, so I have no regret in what I executed but my body and sight, thinking is affected. I’m slower, and sensitive I notice to sound and how I touch things, even these keys. But I’m sped in my keypushes so I’m determined and strangely comfortable, at Peace with this sitting (on floor, against couch, next to backpack).
Consolidating blogs at semester’s close, my left knee.. more coffee.. a nap.. haircut….. Jackie….. Just a few subjects strangling my sensibility at the moment, and how I discussed this morning with two of my stronger matriculants the contradictory and widely ugly hypocrisy of academia.. more I think about me and my story and role as adjunct I see these pages taking me away, and soon, and the inventiveness must perpetuate.. bottledaux as a company.. ‘WRITen’ as an idea, and the whole vinoLit philosophy I formed in ’09/’10… Think, don’t stop thinking.. brainstorm as I urge the students. When I look at some of their journals and see how heaping they are with thought and just true stormings of the brain, I realize I need to anger my own efforts. Antagonize them. TAUNT them. Treat them as caged cats that only want to fight back. SO I do I will I’m going to.. all day. No nap. Fuck a nap. What would that do but make me dead for an hour or more.. no writing when you’re sleeping. That sure as shit won’t finish a MS.
And back from a distraction. Email, social media, pushing the blog and what have.. So quiet in the condo, and I know I won’t sleep. And I’m not that tempted anymore. One of the social media tributaries is slow, or clogged, simply not functioning but I won’t let it damper. No.. I write on.. and I’m hoping tomorrow at Arista gives me more material on wine and wine thoughts and words as it has since I started. Huh, look at the writer fly across his keyboard. You know what, reader, I will have that next cup, if you don’t mind… And I’ll rise in a minute from this floor. Wine.. wine tasting.. winemaking. With more and more flowering showing up in the vineyards, my wine nears, my Cab. OR Pinot. Shit, what do I want. Why not try Pinot? The chemistry dimension or segment you can find assistance for, with. But how it tastes is my conduction. I’ll again study what we’re pouring and elect what tones I want visible. Yes, I’m challenging Pinot just as I’m sure it will challenge the writer.
Already coming to a thousand for the day and I can’t wait for tomorrow, for the reactions from how I describe the wines, which a better 99-point-something percent take to. And, sometime I instruct myself there, in the moment, in the TR while I’m connecting with a local or tourist on how the wine presents itself that day. Wine shifts shapes, I evermore appreciate and see and think that’s what people forget. “How will this taste in two or three years?” How the hell IMG_5793should I know, however the wine wants itself to taste. Now some winemakers will give you a thought that’s smattered in formula and some obscurely worded prediction (if they have their dictionary or thesaurus or ‘phonics’ book close by) . But I’ve found the wine is more cognitive that we give it credit. And, again, that’s why wine is quite plainly FUN. Why would you want to know what you’re going to get for your birthday, or xmas, or any occasion. Isn’t the tradition of surprise much of what contributes to and establishes life’s allure and cherished chase?
Looking at a picture from yesterday, of the soil in one of the VML vineyards. And I’m not sure, why, just the richness and texture and visual voice.. that image and.. I don’t know, but I’m captured and developing in my survey.. the seen, the scene.. I react and.. and….. I don’t know. Splendor, sense, Art, writing, a story, new ME: NEW MIKE. One I like, or even love. Again, I
don’t
know–

Ideas.. a broadcast in addition to the writing.. just keep writing and working and thinking and capturing..

(4/30/15)

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Swift simulacrum this morning,

nothing simulated about this.. near page 3 in the day’s 3 for the novel, upon which I swore on my son that I’d finish, completely finalized by 5/29. Alice out for a walk with her friend and I’m here on the floor writing after two cups and with a paining knee. Going to have to refrain from runs for a while. Fine.. then I swim. I love the water and the other day, Monday I think, when I got in the water for the first time in years I felt like an explorer, finding new belonging and kinship with the waves.
Should be slower today than yester’ but who knows. I’ll taste that other Zin today.. start my own campaign, a Zin push in a Pinot house.. thrive in my defiance.. watch…….
Jackie, especially energetic this morning like his writing father and he watches cartoons then plays with toy, forth and back and diagonally again. I love it, just watching.
8:21.. hope Alice gets home soon so I can shower and ready for the day. Tomorrow I should be able to get the 3 pages checked off early, right after I take Jackie to school.
Money.. always on mind.. so I write more, do nothing– no assignment of effort or anything gratis.
Blog everything today.. pictures, notes, share everything.. don’t worry about “tags”.. just post.. you can tag later.. need these affirmations.. determined and angry with this stress over money and how it suffocates me.. no more. Today I’m building something that overshadows it.

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Home and done

with prepping for 1B, for the most part. 1A this morning went quite well and I surprised with, 1, how early I was up, and, 2, how energized I was when I landed in the adjunct office. This morning seemed more still, more motionless than other mornings of the semester. Giving Self 10 minutes to type before getting into the shower.. write write write, I tell myself, and STOP THINKING YOU NEED TO DO SOMETHING ELSE! Yes, my hustle will diversify, but I’m doing what I set out to do, and that’s teach, write, lecture, be one with literature. Wine is fun, and I will write about it as Dad recommended and that’s it! And if I make wine it’s so I can WRITE about it. Same with any wine “business” endeavor I have… Last night I actually thought about getting into advertising.. what the fuck. Yes, me, in a suit, in an office– NOW….. if it’s my agency, and it’s creative, and all stems from the story then fine. But I’m not working for some pig agency in… well, anywhere.
Just finished cup 2 of the day’s coffee cannon, and I’m more than different this morning, and I know precisely why.. 1, I’m not afraid of grading, my procrastination in grading, nor student reaction to my grading. That’s been my handicap for years now, and today it dies. And if I let papers pile or if I put them off, put them here or there on the table, or just let them ferment in my backpack, that disrupts the writing, the writing of lectures and the compilation of confidence before orating that lecture.. And 2. There’s no ‘2’.
Still with a bit over 4 minutes to compose Self, meditate if you will, but I’m ready for a shower, to relax, let my thoughts do whatever they want. So.. then go… and enjoy the peace.. Namaste.

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journal, 3/23/15

just some thoughts before going back to class tomorrow: lecture alongside authors; write before 7AM section, post to blog; idea at stoplight today, corner of 12 & Mission: put all on blog.. all, All… ALL!! And, pack light! I wouldn’t have left this laptop at Arista yesterday if I wouldn’t have brought it in the first..
Mentally, stay in the classroom.. students and their journals and the last week of term which approaches..
Looking at that house, in Windsor, makes me think of money, and I hate that. Consolidation.. consolidation…
Now with Jackie away and watching him play and thinking of that house and reading an article a minute a go about entrepreneurism and other related topics, I have to keep moving even when I feel slow or think I’m slowing.. I’ll stay at main campus tomorrow for a bit then go to PC. And both lectures will have the students only motivated.. bringing Plath entries and will read from the John Updike Paris Review interview.. the Faulkner one as well.
Jackie’s playing like nothing in the world is wrong and there’s no such thing as a concern. I’ll be the same, as I always say I will but this time actually do so.. driving back from Oliver’s (picking up sandwiches for Alice and I), I thought about jazz, as a concept and principle and study; and behavior pattern, for writing.. the prose I want to put to paper can’t be rehearse and my teaching has to incorporate similar sequencing. I know the conventionals, conventional or ‘orthodox’ instructors, won’t agree. And I hope they don’t! The ultimate aim here is to be away from and not at all dependent upon the machine. For anything. So keep moving, I tell myself, and keep writing and keep with the ideas and novels and random scribbles; and I won’t be too consumed with order as my form or “style” as Vonnegut puts is one of oddity and anti-order, I guess you’d say.
So, tomorrow’s meetings, the 2nd half of the term, to be sure, are to do it. To get There. And to see the Road, for work, my work, which is words, the stories; the tale of the adjunct taking what’s his and doing what he wants, being the adjunct he wants to be and not what’s rumored or what They expect or mandate in some ridiculous course outline.