Writing wine

should always be free. Free hand, free thought, free reaction. Wine is a narrative and literary entity as much as it is a chemical and agricultural result. And the expression and conversation should always be free, honest, not excessively or perhaps at all polished.

Life is present when glasses are poured and sipped. The conversations and new associations, conversations, idea oscillations. Even now as I’m stuck in quarantine, I see the walks in vineyards with people I’ve never met before, from way out of state. Somewhere like Iowa, or South Eastern Montana… there’s something new, memorable, alive.

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