inward jot

22:08 and I have certain authors’ words in my head, bouncing around like over caffeinated cats. Sipping a Racer 5 IPA like I’m on vacation and I know so very tellingly well that I’m anything but. Just went upstairs to check on babies after my dinner which was anything but showing or story- worthy. Back at Lancaster tomorrow. And…. I need to taste the wines more. For some reason today I felt distant from them, all of them. The SB, the Cuvée, Cabs, Nicole’s… all of it. When speaking about hem I summoned only my poet’s nucleus and not the wine lover ’cause he was immediately useless today. No duende. It “worked”, I guess you could say but I didn’t feel even in my mental, or sight of the wines I was narrating. Not overthinking. Some days you’re off, with wine. Not blaming the wines, certainly, and. not really blaming myself, I’m just penning a curious tangibility I couldn’t escape today that didn’t visibly affect my performance, but certain made me collect and inventory. I even notice it now influencing the way I merely mention the wines — What the fuck is going on. Okay… let me practice here….. The ’12 Estate Cab, passionate and deep with its body and flavor voice — Goddamnit! I just need to enjoy my beer. I can’t write about wines as I usually do. IS this a result of how long my day was? IS my age catching me, not just ‘catching up with me’? Is something wrong with me?

I definitively acknowledge that my relationship with wine is changing. Becoming more serious, but taking different turns and whim ins such development. With all this, my place in the industry and as a wine journalist, if you could even call me that, I’m seeing more — wanting to be out in the vineyards with more routine and listen closer to what people coming to the wineries want to know and have to say. Thinking again to the past, to my first days in the wine world, paid.. to that first day at St. Francis Winery, when the then-hospitality manager Trish asked. me to help her arrange some merchandise on a table. I remember thinking, “What does this have to do with ‘wine’?” Well, everything. It’s part of the bigger frame. Envisage yourself as a tourist, as someone visiting from, I don’t know — fucking Kansas and seeing all this for the first time. All scenes have to be displayed a certain way. More, I’m far past fascinated by people coming to our county from out-of-state, wherever that is.

Had to end the previous para’ abruptly. Estimate I may be hitting some sort of journalist wall — but thoughts of wine will cure.. cogitate anything… Zach and I sulfuring barrels at Kunde.. Rich and I arguing about what wine was better in the May tasting room in ’07… the Arista Pinots and that one block on their property with the grave of the “original squatter” as they called him… those people from Canada who took more notes than I maybe ever have in a single tasting room visit, at Sanglier…. So much to wine and its arrangement in our collective. I’ll go into any dreams I have tonight with those cork pops in my perception.. with closed eyes smell what I always do in that Lancaster cave…

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