why me wine
Wine has always been a literary entity, to me. What brought me to wine’s world and business, industry, are all the stories. All the new moments and realizations, appreciations and punctuations of life. Yes, the wines with absolutely commanding tastes and flavor arrangements had a part, but they weren’t the dominant determinant. The stories, the character, and the literary reality of wine itself. How a wine begins on the vine and is cared for, takes on its own character and voice, then brought through fermentation, aged a bit in bottle, or not, then sharing its voice and personality from the glass.
I’m here for the poetry, for the music, for the character development and how others act and react in the presence of wine. Last night not having any wine with dinner, as I had to drive back and forth from Healdsburg and Santa Rosa where I live, then opening a Zin 2015 in home, introduced to a new voice, different than the last time I her sipped. There was more violets, more smoke, more atmosphere and thesis, more verse and music, more a haunt, more a playfulness to the wine. It changed. It developed. The wine reminded me that we all change, that time forwards whether we wish it to or not and if we wish whatever from time is irrelevant. Time actuates tireless, forwards. Literature always delivers some degree of life through pages, as wine does through bottle.
Going into work today, into the tasting room, I have no idea what will evolve, how my character will be changed and what will happen in the story. The unpredictable is literary. You don’t want to know what’s going to transpire in the story. That’s self-defeating. The spontaneous is where the gems are, that’s where the development and the most enriching of forwards lie, await.