In the three years since my life changed, I've made it a point to stop and think about where I am, how I got here, and to be thankful for everything that has happened and for all those that have helped me make it this far. For those that have no idea what I'm talking about- Here are the posts from the last two years- (two years ago today (2011), 1 year ago (2010)
-------------------
Wine and the quest for simple truth.
As public as I am, I hold a lot of myself back, some of which is a truth. For one, contrary to public perception, my past doesn't start in Atlanta, or even the South. It starts in Massachusetts, a name I've typed so little in the past 20 years, that I needed spell check to get it right. With more than 1/2 of my life spent out of Mass, I felt adopted by the South, its energy, I felt part of it; it is very responsible for the me I am today, but to ignore that coastal Massachustetts connection ignores the change and transformation that is truly the important piece, not the destination.
How does this equate to wine?
Wine was never to be my path (or the destination). Instead, it was the search for sound, truth, and a journey and practice of music in order to connect with people, life, and to go so far as to say- the way, chi, god, or even "the force." The study, practice, and performance of music was my way of trying to touch something that has no surface, to share something that we can’t “have” and a chance at losing a “self” in the process.
I studied percussion for more than 20 years. The final 12 years spent studying the tabla from India, Indian classical music, and various frame drums from the middle east. More than anything the journey was about the discovery and finding something so exotic and making it terrestrial. A new rhythm, sound, or instrument became part of the joyful vocabulary of my being and an experience that was worth sharing with others.
For what seemed to be a life destined for the study of music, I ended up in business. It started with a haunting image presented to me in Dharamasla, India. I somehow wound up sitting in the administrative offices of His Holiness the Dalai Lama while traveling after college. Just like any office, or coffee shop, in the hall was a standard cork message board with thumbtacked flyers, notices, etc. In the middle of the board there was a cut out of a one cell cartoon (similar to a Far Side comic). The image was of a bespectacled, long-haired, tie-dye wearing, backpacker walking around a narrow mountain path. On the other side of the bend was the same person, short haired, in a suit and tie, holding a brief case. The caption read something like “High in the Himalayas Harvey finds his true self.” It was an eerie site. The cartoon looked far too like me (the name was really close too) and it was a funny, but solid premonition that when I returned to the states, something was going to change.
When I returned, opportunities presented themselves, and I ended up with a career in the technology world (doing sales and marketing from Fortune 100 companies to start-ups). I convinced myself that by following this path that I would be able to live a comfortable life, which would allow for the time and luxury to further my music.
It allowed neither. My music continued for about another 6-7 years, even teaching on weekends for a short while, and eventually the study faded off. The time I spent traveling made it impossible to practice. As a way to try and scratch that itch, I experimented with hip-hop and electronic music (something I could do on flights or in hotels) but even that became hobby vs practice. It went from a path to music for a party. Eventually it completely stopped.
The career I was following was nothing I deeply loved. I found excitement and pleasure in it, but it was nothing that got me up in the morning- nothing that I’d chose to do if I didn’t have to do it. The lack of love kept me locked in performing above average, sometimes far above, but without the full commitment of one’s being or being at the right place at the right time, there wasn’t a large fortune stacking up. What was made was spent trying to enjoy the time I was giving away.
Wine came into this path from the side. It was something that I had no love for at first. Sips at Sunday dinners as a child were not something that I really enjoyed, and alcohol had no part in my life as a teen or even during college.
It was while bartending and waiting tables while saving money to travel to India that I started to get bit by the bug. Staff wine training was something that I looked forward to- to be able to taste multiple wines, experiencing their differences and trying to enunciate how they made you feel. At first, it was just an exercise in pleasure- it was fun to be surrounded by great smells and tastes, and to feel the buzz- but then the game changed when I encountered a great one (and was listening). A wine that delivered far more than pleasure. In music, it could be the difference between sipping something hooky but contrived like the Black Eyed Peas and then experiencing the raw truth of Ali Akbar Khan or Yehudi Menuhin. The holy sh*#, moment when the wine shifts as solely a drink of pleasure into a something that is capable of touching your soul.
At that point, I began to chase the dragon of wine. Trying to find bottles that spoke not in words, but in emotions that I was unable to express. Not knowing which way to run, I tried to run in all directions simultaneously. I spent years of relying on critical acclaim for guidance. I consumed far too many Michael Bay styled wine blockbusters. After reaching a dead-end with vinous special effects and explosions, in knee-jerk response, I followed it to the austerity of a weirder John Cage piece where I found that the enamel on my teeth had left the building. At some point in the journey I found that my soul did not stir in cheering at fireworks and lasershows, or in the awkward quiet of staring into the pitch dark of night, but in wine's equivalent of the simple joy of watching and trying to catch fireflies. Looking for that glow in the night that says “we are all here, together” past and present and future. It is this pure magic of life, the tapping into the positive vibration of the universe. It somehow bridges what I sought in music, to what I’ve found in wine.
Where I found this is in wines that attempt the uncarved block- the simple, the pure, and that when successfully left untouched, provide the connection to life in its simplest form. To some, these may be called “natural wine” (though you can call it non-enhanced, raw, naked, acoustic, or whatever), to others it is just wine-
Not all wines can be uncarved- many need some touch to survive. But perhaps in the idea of doing as little that needs to be done, lies the purest expression- that the most powerful and often the most moving melody can come out from where we may have to bend our ear to hear the tune.
The path is ever-changing. Perhaps, in a few years I may fall in love and produce ultra-technical, highly executed Mourvèdre, but the important part is no matter where we are on the path, along the way, we see the wind in the trees, the smile of those we love, and the part of you that is the part of me.
----------
Thank you for letting me continue to be on this journey.
Recent Comments