Such a title, as I remember where I was just a hop over a decade ago. On the Peninsula. Before the days of wine, having to draft English courses‘ syllabi, the blog. Just a simpler time. And that view from the old house, unmatched, even now, here in wine’s realm. Out my bedRoom window, distracted from homework, looking out at late PM lights, when saving assignments to minutes fading.
Today, 2011, I would argue just as much, if not more connectedness, collectivity. Writing immeasurably more, running, into wine so deep I couldn’t escape its reach if I wanted to. And I don’t, so... Sipping no wine this evening. Just finished a Ginger Ale, moving to nightcap, Diet Cherry 7UP. Wrote so many cubeNOTES today I surprised mySelf. Again asking Self, “Where do all the NOTES, pages, go?” No answer yet. And I don’t need one, yet, necessarily. Tonight’s run, and it was a late set of sprints, made me play with placement ideas, strategies, for all my writings. I didn’t exactly put out a thought menu during my steadiness, but I did fiddle with a few likelihoods for my pen’s traces. Tonight’s run, condensed and intense, like the ’08 harvest. Result, a wine writer almost too empty to fill this entry’s space.
Listening to Wine Bar beats, without wine. And that’s more than fine, for me, tonight. At NWG alone, today, scribbled more than 1000 words. So, this entry should be my last exertion for the day. Sipping... Perfect. Chilled, like this music. In my own office, offsite that be, this would be playing, nearly nonstop. That day, nearing. Has to be, with all this writing, of late. Need to put it all together, like winemakers blending down their chef d’oeuvres, be it Rhône, Bordeaux, Italian, Spanish, or something sippably odd. The latter of which preferred by I, as that’s Aesthetic. That’s what my writings need to be, as I’ve before blurbed. That’s original, poetic. Beautiful, like my old Bayview view. Sip ...