from wine book

Wine… what else do I write about you? I think this, a lot, actually. Why? ’Cause wine’s very much a mystery, a codified myriad. I want it to stay that way. Why would I want to know everything? Why wouldn’t I want wine to be intriguing and provocative, something to interact with and get to know better? I look through one of my journals, the “Carpe”, see some jots from a couple weeks ago where I say.. “dark sexy vampire seductress, enveloping me in her new language, something Plath-like, assuring me that life is to be treasured and taken slow, enjoy every moment.” I’m not saying that this is how wine writers and journalists should write about wine, but it’s how I do. And, I will say, that wine is much more deserving of intimacy than just a banal, proletarian monolith of “descriptors”. I’ve never understood that, as I wrote earlier. Wine deserves conversation, intimacy like I said.. the genuine, the truthful, the personal. It needs you, and you it, if you’re ever to even remotely “know” wine.

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