Untitled Dizziness...

Sipping a 2006 Malbec, Sonoma Valley fruit. Won’t mention the winery, as the wine isn’t that good. I don’t engage in defamation. Slow day at work today. Lots of writing, though. Mark and I made our way around the Square, so I could be aware of hot PR spots. Do not miss the classroom a drop. All, for this page, the wine, vinoLit. Music, invaluable. Arranging a playlist for tomorrow, in fact. The tunes create the stage, the ambience.

More and more confident that I could operate a successful and wildly popular wine bar. A little dance floor, cornered, as I discussed with Mark today. One problem I see with opening such a spot on the Square, rent. Landlords would charge and eye and an ear, they can. Not sure where I’m going with this session. Just want to sip, enjoy this maybe-average Mb, pretend I’m in Wine Knot...

Addicted to pictures now. I apologize, readers, for not including them since the log’s birth. Either way, here we are, with a new flavor profile. Still sipping. Looks good in the pic, but in actuality, I taste south of mediocrity. Could I make better wine, of course not. Yeah, topic next. Not as hot tonight. So pleased. Sip, sip...

(Tuesday 6/29/2010)

Beauty, Here

Picture 169 in my camera. Why do I love the wine world’s stage and essence? The combination of shades, the development of day, occasion. No other realm more beauteous. Imagining my Self back in this frame (even though I was working that day). Sitting at one of the tables on St. Francis‘ back patio with a glass of the ’09 Sauv Blanc, and just stare up at the mountain.

I am not at all startled when I’m approached from the other side of the counter by people from all sides of the globe. Sonoma Valley, my Heaven. Still, at my camera’s precious still frame staring. Sip, sip...

(Sunday 6/27/2010)

Review of Kaz Vineyard and Winery, 2009 Lenoir, Pagani Ranch

Her melody, unfamiliar, as is her tongue, syllable. She evades my capture, comprehension. I follow, I have to. She stops for our collision, entanglement. Slow, for more. She keeps me still, sedated, surrounding my senses in spell.
Deep blackberry and blueberry presentation with mild oak and damp soil, floral and forward. Her incense strings me obsessive. Her augury, a flavorful and quaint comet to my core. Sip again, sensual stretch. Her aggressive maneuvers mold my mind, time. Scent to reflection, profound, an equation, a beautiful bully of sorts to any analytical aptitude. She can’t be solved, why she’s so libidinous. Keepable, strong and sensual character...
As I many times do, I glare in catatonic admiration at this glassed femme. Thickest, most situated of nights. I her swirl, to further my daze. With each sip, the graceful ghoul displays her motioned ballad on palate. I follow, to continue as a follower of her path of notes. Amorously different, deliciously divine. Persist with my newest of sip trysts.

(Friday 6/25/2010)

Piles

Challenging, not to be separated, scattered. So many sheets aflutter in my Now, journals too. I long ago vowed to stop jumping journals. I blame the wine, especially this new expansive affair with Cabernet. Waking early tomorrow, I swear.
Took home some barrel samples today, for the new winery. Made way through 5 of 9. Couldn’t sip anymore wine, honestly. Never thought I’d say that. Damn this clutter. Wish I was at the Wine Bloggers’ Conference in WA. Had an opp to go, but I landed this new post. Quite content with how all unfolded. Chooser’s remorse, none in this coat.
Hate paperwork, business cards, forms. Unneeded extra. Who wants that? Certainly not me, nor this poetry.

(Thursday 6/24/2010)

Standing Session II

So, I turn around, see vineyards. Endless arranged green. Last night, enjoyed the calm Cabernet of Hawkes. In my maze, an opus develops. When it to fruition flexes, only the idea itself knows. The wind outside forces the vines to dance. Getting mad at the vehicles racing by, interrupting my favorite show.
On the hunt, yet again, for an unorthodox, WEIRD, surprising blend. Called my comrades at the Wine Emporium in Sebastopol yesterday. They informed me, prospect by prospect, that much me awaits. Hope I have adequate cash stash, to supply my ever-dwindling wine cache. Sure I misspelled something in that last sentence, and probably more in the lines preceeding. This is a standing session. My fingers, cramping, legs shaking, eyes watering from being so close to this devilish screen. I need some level of allowance, leniency. Cringe at what I could be misspelling. Need a sip of something...Chard.

Recovery, Me

Not writing as much as I should. Shame on this penman. Interesting day in the new Room. Actually had a full bar at one point. Exciting. Reminded me of the old Room, and my crew. Met up with Mark. Interesting mise en scene, an old character on the new stage. Seeing much promise and delivery within the new walls. Can’t get over the miniature echoes of my ambient music, playlists.
Presently sipping one of our Cabs, the calmer of four, go figure, with me, the calm Cab character. This day, ending. So thankful for my near-return to balance, getting away from flu, or cold, otherwise inconvenience. In AV tomorrow. From there I note. Peace, sip sip...

(Wednesday 6/23/2010)

Standing Session

The Room, chilled, for me. The music, same. Chill. For me. Am I over this cold, so I can delight in the sips again? Not sure. Looking at the bottles to my left, wondering what their circuitry and unseen plains withhold for the palate. Not sure I like being on sole, pushing these keys. The music stopped. Where are the guests? Maybe I should go troll around the square, offer a free flight of consistently unique, and politely audacious, savory wines.
Please forgive errors, misspells. Not in my studio. Don't have the thesaurus and spellcheck at ready. People walking by, but not in. Should I for them sip? No. I want to be in position. Already have recorded a bucket's worth of reflection this morning, early afternoon. A friend, and owner of local winery, just dropped off a bottle. Already wrote a review for this masterful effort of his. But tonight, if I am adequately resurrected, a revisit to the supple Sangio?