Sunday, August 19, 2012

Not Yet

A few months ago it started to get to me. 2012 has been a challenging year in many respects. But after five years and 900 blog posts, I've kept going. Maybe it’s all vanity. I cannot plunge into that pool. What I do know is this: I have met a whole new world of folk in these past five years, and I’m not sure I would have if I hadn’t bled these words and pictures onto this place, all these days, weeks and months. So I am not done. Not yet.


The medium of the blog seems pretty staid to me. Static. Nothing more than verbal (and a few visual) notes. In the end it is a log. Not a song. Not a film. Not a book. Not yet.

For the hopeful ones and those with more in front of them than behind them, if they were to eavesdrop, or ask, or care, what would there be to tell them that they can only learn by doing? I would say, “Do.” Study, yes. Test yourself, but don’t try and fool yourself just because you have learned to fool the testers. Do. And do some more. And keep doing. Forget about the little letters you want to attach to your name at the end. And don’t give up. Not yet.


For the lovers, now crushed with the details of life, what can I say that you don’t already know? Or fear? Or hope? Very little, except to say patience and compassion will fill a glass better than any rare Barolo or last bottle of Brunello. Fill your chalice with love. Take a deep breath. Rest on it. And don’t think about what will happen next week or next month or ten years from now. Not yet.

To my colleagues on the wine trail, with all the years we have been going down it, now what? Yes, the world is spinning and the young crop yearns to turn us over in the fields and bury us, so they might live. And it will eventually happen, to us and to them, soon enough. But, not yet. Not yet.

To those with big dreams, we love that you dream big and harvest your dreams in bottles of red, white and rosé. Circle the globe eight times a year if you wish, but never forget the land, the grapes and the people who work in the fields to make your dreams come true. They too have dreams. And they, and their children, reflect your hopes in their hearts, as your desires are a mere reflection of a greater spirit in the land. And while you have worked two lifetimes to pursue your ambitions, and have lived more life than most, remember we are nothing without the soil. Wine has not been made in the clouds. Not yet.

And to those with even bigger dreams and challenges on the ascent, there it is all awaiting your climb. Take your loved ones with you, eat with them, play with them, laugh with them, love them. It all happens so quickly. The road to riches and success isn’t a mystery. It’s a balancing act. And you will get there soon enough, if not just yet.

To those with dreams of artistry and expression, what are you waiting for? You want to be a writer? Then write. An artist? Then do it. You want to be a musician? Start practicing the scales. No one has really made to their destination without practice and dedication. Not yet. Not ever.

The sculptor Constantin Brancusi once said, “When we cease being children, we are already dead.” While I know it is folly to want to live on earth forever, while I am here, I want to do it with open eyes, heart and soul. There have been many who have tried to quell the child in me, but as long as I am not one of them, all will be well. I am not ready to give in. Not yet.

Thank you all, dear readers, friends and family, for reading and taking a few steps with me all these years on the wine trail in Italy. Hopefully, more stories and pictures, more rants, more tears, more laughs. More wine.

I’m not done. Not yet.





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