Probably have taken these same pictures a dozen times. But, they are from today. Conditions begging reaction, reflection. More characters in the tasting Room than I’m here capable of enumerating. Found mySelf drawn to the Mayacamas, St. Francis’ Wild Oak vines. Couldn’t reflect for stretched breaths. There were glasses to fill. Not sure which corner of the wine orchestra best suites me. I still just see mySelf as a writer, an artist. Nomadic page filler. Another intricacy I found spellbinding, noses of certain varietals. The ’08 Merlot, ’08 Syrah, an ’07 Zin, and the Dry Creek Petite Sirah. The tenacity of the notes leaping into my mirror, likely to with Mike remain for days, if not more sizable life bars.
Grapes, having difficulty getting to their picking point. Just like me, with my manuscripts in their crawl to fruition. Should I bring BOOK1 to the office 2morrow? You know what, yes. I have to. And for lunch, to the cafe. I want 10 pages edited. At least. Winemakers hold themselves to the most draconian of deadlines. That’s what keeps the autonomous winemaker self-sufficient, sustaining. So be me, with this Literary fury. Realized this, over, over, today in the Room, sipping that new Viognier, 2009. Remember JK and I used to sip that varietal with fanatical adherence, predictability, in the Room. Especially on frenetic shifts.
MADIGAN Publishing, running like a small production winery, has to offer its different types. Not sure what all I can publish, but I don’t have much time to figure it out, just “play” with ideas. One coin’s other side of forward reality, I don’t have sinuous surplus. Haven’t solved this equation. Cut weekly morning mochas from the budget, not going out to eat as much as I used to, for lunch at work. Not sure what else to cut. Boring... Topic next.