This night, calm. These tunes, again forcing me to envision a wine bar of mine own. This Pinot, tasting better with each tilt. Not sure how much I’m liking moving the pen, typing, for others. But I’m getting paid to write. Have to grow up. Compromise, just as the winemaker would do with less-than-optimal conditions. Like now, 2010. It broke my heart looking at those sunburnt grapes this afternoon. Poor things.
What am I ready for, with the general progression? Have to welcome all unfolding, blossoming. This jazz, Hutcherson’s “‘Till Then”, making the night better. It still stills me, of what music is capable. Putting my Self in one of my bar’s booths. Alone, just observing the stage, Mise-en-Scene.