Can’t stop scribbling in this Comp book. Must be the Syrah. Summer upon, with me in a constant dawn. A bit frustrating, the Literary strides, of late. Looking through some pictures taken the other day, Sunday. Russian River expedition. Not sure I documented it with strokes sufficient. But I’m understanding the Humanness of not always moving in manuscript mode. Sometimes the writer, the wine writer/novelist, MikeMadigan, need just live. I don’t have to write every second, this Syrah on my desk says.
Looking at pictures I took in the tasting Room, Saturday, of my stamped hand. Believe it was the Petite Sirah’s cork that decorated my claw so.
NewWineGig, revealing interesting dimension, to be candid, brief. When I leave, I’m in a reflective cyclone, pulled apart and assembled masterfully. How does it do that? Why does the wine world always put me in paragraph pause? That’s what the paper diary’s for. My thinking now, after temperature upward, shifts stretched, in roam. No destination, like the ever-contrasting, conflicting, winemaker. As a writer, I don’t want to throw measurable sentences, books. I want to be feared, have people wondering, as Lisa said, “You’re not gonna write about this, are you?” Such lines, like old Bordeaux finds to this emboldened poet. In days soon, my own sovereign sect; Separatist wine scribe ...
Forgive my eventual, more so present, ramble. Just the way I think, like Virginia Woolf when she pitied the moth. The weather, wielding ways. Syllabically, warrior-like. Hope the wine “industry” can deal with me. And if it can’t, I’ll only ascend. Taking another Syrah sip ... gorgeous Sonoma County character: approachable, dark berry, constricting mouthfeel, augments by summation rhythmic; spiced, electric, jumpy. Would love to just stay in tomorrow, abandon my exhaustively laughable commute. WRITE all day. The last 20 pages of this bottle bravado’d book. Bringing my rough rough rough draft to work tomorrow, proofreading at lunch, at that Napa Coffee castle, or whatever it’s called. Excuse the sudden snap, but Napa’s challenging my diplomacy. Need to Syrah mySelf, for Equilibrium return, to Sonoma Country ...
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