Did so by mySelf. Katie, deservedly, went home timely. Did my first solo punchdowns, stirring of juice, skins. And, no surprise, couldn’t help but take pictures of all my surroundings’ sides. But, returning respect to our developing wine, in two different barrels, provides two different airborne melodies. Barrel two, much more aromatic than 1. How is that possible, I remember asking Katie. She said, a few days ago, that it could be the toast level, cooper, wood class. Either way, there’s a noticeable personality contrast. When they’re blended together, if they are, I can only envision what results. That is what’s incredibly encouraging about wine, curious, why it fosters such creativity. Frankly, the Literary world should embrace such experimentation, just see what happens, like Kelly always tells me. Our wine has told me, directly, to write messier, more colorful prose, poetry. Go against Vonnegut’s orders, be Picasso-esque.
All the other barrels I captured tonight, what materializes inside each of them? Would love to know. But would rather be surprised when pulling a cork, pouring. Sipping my nightcap, skating through my friend Amanda’s blog, quotebites.com. Little fusillades of inspiration, insight, Truth. Love her innovatory approach to all existential variables. Everyone can find something on her site that’ll grab them; steer, calm, spiritually renew them. Can only hope that my entries, coming novel, BOOKS, do even a drop equalling.
Back to the winery tomorrow, to work alongside, learn from, my sibling professor. Wonder if the Cab, the barrels’ noses, will offer different orations. Need to ask Katie what step’s next. I have to review all the steps, to make sure I’ve recorded them accurately. Speaking of which, I need to start another log, just for my winemaking progressions, enlightenments. Also, need to stack my spoken word, rime, pages. Didn’t do my poetry assignment last night. Just like old times, in grad school, under that simulated poetry sage professor. Need to edit novel, organize photos, go through some old writings with which I recently connected. Stressed. Need one of Amanda’s quote bites. Another sip, swimming to her site. Eased. Off to dream of the Cabernet, whoso cellars...