The Meat on Those Bones
The desire to live an esthetic life, to be washed by bloody emotion, eyes fully upon radiant Beauty, does not disqualify the other side of the brain. One can only truly grasp the feeling that sublimity gives by objectively tearing at the why of that feeling.
Five years ago we changed our focus, disrupted our own progress and courted close calls with the bank, to become a more authentic version of ourselves, to produce Cabernet Franc — the grape that offered the purest expression of Beauty that can be found — in as emotionally resonant and connective a way possible.
Too many people assume a rupture between a life of Beauty and a life of the Mind. Neither exists without the other; Beauty cannot be perceived without thoughtfulness, and the objective is given a range of pertinence only when it resonates emotionally.
When we delve deeply enough, we leave the comfort of what we believe to be the truth and pierce that liminal skin into an interior (or is it the exterior one?) that is silvery new and (hopefully) defies all that we think we know. It is in the not-yet-known where possibility dwells.
