from a journal

4/29/19

Day after Passport

And 30 days from 40. Sole understanding this morning, here at home writing after taking kids to their spots, their schools. Jackie asking me in car, “Did someone wrote these songs?” Asking about Thievery Corporation track playing, “Incident At Gate 7”, one of our combined favorites. Kitchen, keeping eye on clock as I have a meeting at a winery in Alexander Valley at 11, I feel depleted from Passport. And, surprisingly so. After first day, I felt nothing. But yesterday was when the crowds landed, when the invasion really realized. At the Zin station I was, pour after pour and after more pours now here in my quiet house and kitchen and technically a day off I can still hear the voices and see the arms extending with glass gripped. Saying nothing. Just demanding their wine.

Wanted to run, and write as I am, but certainly no energy for a run, and barely composed to compose this, if it even has any composition. Wine orders me to take a true day off, I tell her I can’t. I have to write, I’m 40 soon. She says SO WHAT and I say nothing back, just keep with my types, keep with my day’s current and will only have the day I want to. This 4-shot latte, even, does little. I rub eyes and listen to Coltrane, empty change from wallet, and wonder what else to write.

The wines I tasted after the day ended, yesterday, the Chenin and then a Grenache from somewhere, put me in my wine story and made me hear her more clearly. Wine showing me where I am in life and not so much what I need to do but what I know I need do. What will make sense, what will be IT. Wondering if my camera is charged, if I should take it with me to AV — The exhaustion folds and turns my tenacity against me. And, have to lecture tonight… Pace is the panacea…