I have made it out of Sonoma Valley, once again. There is a wine shop here that specializes in wines from other areas. I believe I've mentioned it before, the Valley Wine Shack. I go there when I want to develop a comparative basis for my tastes, to become more international, continental, etc.
Recently I was accused of being impoverished because I didn't share the tastes of another. It was strange. I won't bore you with all of the details but the essence of it was that a woman thought that a model that my friend had photographed was beautiful. I found the image to be beautiful but not the model. I found her to be oddly proportioned, positioned, which she was. I went on to explain that in all beauty there is some strangeness of proportion (I believe it was Bacon who uttered this sentiment, though I am not sure). This elicited the reply that if I could not see beauty in this model then I am suffering from a form of poverty, she then went on to bolster support for her forcefully demanding aesthetics with the contention that she would have sex with the model before she would with "any young little chicken, for sure!"
Oh, fuck it... here is the whole dialogue, for anybody interested. It can be found in the comments section. I suppose that I will bore you with all of the details....
I started thinking about the idea that in all beauty there is some strangeness in proportion, and why this is not as true with wine, perhaps not at all. Do we seek strangeness of proportion in wine? Mostly not. We seek balanced flavors, not extremes. Hints are preferable to arguments. Partially because we are ingesting it to enjoy, not to be challenged by it, to tussle with its many oblique wonders.
Wine is only external for a few moments, mostly it is enjoyed internally, or during the brief interval of transition on the palate. Once on the inside it can conduct the most hideous felonious disgraces and we mainly forgive it, re-seek its friendship. We damn only ourselves for its cascading misdemeanors and lingering loss of balance.
Enjoy.
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