… here I am.
Like to everyone who intends to start a new writing adventure, to me the first page, the blank shining white paper in front of the eyes, represents the wide desert to be crossed to get to a refreshing oasis.
You always start with plenty of ideas, you feel like being the new Hemingway, The Writer that the World was greedily waiting for, and … nothing, your brain suddenly got emptied and your dreams drastically fall into the frustration of your mediocrity.
You dramatically face the harsh reality: you are not a writer, and you will never be.
From Heaven to Hell.
You had (quite sometime ago!) some reasonably good ideas on posting something barely interesting and … that’s it. Face it!
And, to be honest, you don’t even remember now what was that “so brilliant idea” that showed up in your brain and made you surfing (days!) on the web, grabbing all the information you could collect on how opening a blog and successfully managing it.
You signed a contract with a host; you spent weeks in finding out a nice name to your site not already taken by somebody else and, possibly, not committing a kidney to pay for it; you invest quite some weekends in drafting your page’s layout; you are ready to start and … nothing. Your neurons behave like Peter with Jesus: “I don’t know you! What do you want from us?!”.
But you don’t give up. You dive into your project.
You are an engineer and you know how handling a project, don’t you?
… and you are not alone. WordPress is with you.
I remember the first time a friend talked to me about this software: “that’s great! Very easy to use. Even your kid can use it!”.
He kept on telling me all the incredible and spectacular features of it. The technical ones, the engineering capabilities.
He forgot to underline its psychological power.
WordPress knows you might feel panic when you start writing. It knows it.
It knows it because that’s human. This is why it comes closer, and it hugs you, and it helps you, and it fills your first post for you. It does it.
It does not leave you alone on the dunes.
” Welcome to WordPress. This is your first post. Edit or delete it, then start writing!”
Did you see it? The page is NOT empty. It’s NOT blank shining white.
Come here and hug me stronger!
If you like, you can edit or even delete this comfortable sequence of black forms running on the sand that makes you believe you have started already.
… delete it? No, no. I won’t. I opt for editing.
I am not so masochist to fall back to the desolation of the void page.
No, no. Not me. I like these tiny black forms on the sand.
But I still need a support. I need somebody who trusts me and helps me in making my next steps.
I need my glass.
Let me look for something to share with this my old and reliable friend.
… Lucas et Andre’ Rieffel Vignerons. 
Zotzenberg Riesling Grand Cru 2015.
… it seems the right bottle … and it’s also the only one I left ready in the fridge after an intense uncorking weekend.
It was a present of Mathilde, my favorite caviste at Les Caprices de l’Istant, a small corner of pleasure at the eastern border of Le Marais and, probably, the best wine-shop in Paris.
“You like Riesling, I understand. Try zis, zen.“, she said while she was adding this Alsatian flute in my paper bag.
Flint! I am still pouring it in the glass and its minerality immediately catches my nostrils. Flint and kerosene.
In a blind tasting it would be quite difficult not to get this is the typical Alsatian Riesling. As per manual.
– Take this light gold color wine, my Friend, and help me in starting this new adventure, a blog on wine and travel.
That was THE idea!
– Wow! Very new, Mate!”
– OK, it’s not. But I will write also about spirits, sake, beer. Maybe food. About places … quite sure.
– Oh, YES! That makes the difference!
– I did not fill you with this Riesling to get back your sarcasm, my Friend!
– You know what Latins said, Mate: in vino veritas. And the truth is that your idea is nothing new. To be honest with you, there are already too many people flooding with their opinions on wine on this Planet. Don’t you think you are wasting your time on this?”
– No, I don’t, and I have explained it already on this website. You should have paid much more attention before shooting your sarcastic bullets, shouldn’t you?
And I have poured you with this to support me, not to wrack my ideas.
– Better I do it than readers do it, Mate. I save you from humiliation.
– Do you?
Come closer. I need to smell you further.
Its fruitiness opens up: peach, pears, green apples.
… but its minerality is definitely predominant. Flint.
… and smokiness. Crispy BBQ bacon and toast.
If its flavors match its aromas’ structure, well, Mathilde gave me a quite interesting bottle to taste.
– Can I ask you something, Mate?
– Of course, you can, my Friend. … provided you keep your gun on the table.
– Do you have time for this?
– Mmmhh, well, do you think I would need a lot of it?
– Well, unless you believe there’s someone who’s simply interested on your tasting notes – something I seriously doubt – you need to carefully prepare your posts. You have to read, to study, to write, to delete and to re-write. People made a business out of it.
– Did they?
– Yes, they did. And they invested quite some resources to do it properly.
– Ah, OK. I have not thought I would have needed to invest too much time.
– You have to. At least you should. … and do you have that?
– I don’t know. Can you give me some time to think of that?
Let me taste this Riesling, first.
– Please, feel free.
Off-dry.
No, I am not deceived by its exciting fruitiness (which fully matches its aromas!) and not even by its oily texture. This bottle has some pleasant sugar, which is admirably balanced by its high acidity and its reasonable alcohol.
This is definitely an interesting bottle.
Zenk you, Mathilde!
– Maybe I don’t need to write too often, do I?
– Of course you don’t need to. But you cannot either post once per year.
– How often do you think I should write?
– Every time you have something interesting to tell, Mate. And you need to learn how to tell it.
– And do you think it will be difficult?
– Sometimes yes. Sometimes less. Sometimes it will be easier.
– And will you help me in this?
– Of course. As usual. You know you can trust me and that I will be always at your side, Mate.
– Yes, I know it.
– It was a very good Riesling. What do you think?
– I agree with you. It was very interesting. Maybe it could have lasted a bit longer on the palate. Couldn’t it?
– You are right. But I like how its bitter aftertaste is closing its fruit. It avoids it to be clumsy.
– “Clumsy”? Ahahah. It’s just a hint of sugar, Mate. Don’t be nasty! Ahahah.
– Now it’s time to me to cleanse you, my Friend.
– Mind not to use soap. Warm water should be enough.
– Thank you!
– You are welcome, Mate.
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