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Good evening everybody, my name is Vera Bonanno, I'm a wine steward and I talk about the only subjcet I know: wine.
I'm going to talk about the way we select wine excellence
so, the excellence...it's a hard question
Your mind starts thinking, racking, making connections
It's hard to be wine chooser
We feel nearly omnipotent
as if a spiritual voice asked us how we would make our choice
We appeal to several knowledge and choice sources
grapevine, weather, terroir, the producer and his philosophy
product pleasantness, the difficulty or the easiness of drinking
so, after so many years of study,
trips and broaching bottles
and all the objectivity I believe I learnt
emptying out a glass of wine
I pour it
I put it on the table
I wait for its liquid to flow along my legs
It's a sensation that I know very well by now
I wonder, I look at it, I observe it and
I ask myself to transform that glass of wine into a human being
A person I deeply want to know
First game's rule..the truth!
I want to drink a truth
Wine has to tell us a story, that's why we chooce one rather than another
because its histoty moves us or it looks like ours
so much as we want it to be our history
we break the ice this way
We make first step towards something before unknown and extraneous
Wine we like has to be like us
We must see in it our reflection, as in love, contrast or affinity, and "Are antipodes attracted to each other?"
Wine has to have both possibilities, we must be able to chooce
drinking to be comforted, recognizing its taste and scent, thinking that it was as we expected
we were looking for it, the one that can grant our wishes
the one who rocks us in that milky and maternal sensation
maybe after a long and disastrous day
where we wanted to meet only a close friend, without risks, faultless and without errors,
a rhythmic flow like an endless wave
well
I belong to the second category of the destabilization victims
the enemies of Cinderella who always fall in love with the damned handsome man
who always goes wrong but pleasantly
who stuns and blurs you, disorienting, full of defectes and smears
but when he wants and when it's him to decide, he stands by you
and after having lost all available patience and energy, he holds your hand to tell you that everything is possible
Now, that we are speechless
Love has already begun
Why don't we come to our senses to ask him all little questions we set before?
Where are you from?....What about your family?
in the place where you live it's sunny or moist?
Do you like place where you live? Do you feel culturally tied to the land?
Are you deeply rooted?And how much?
How did you live your life seasons?
Is it expected a good year or a bad one?
Are you shy or close, or cheeky and communicative?
He will be sunny and smiling or reserved and close? He will ask us for more time before opening to us?
and he will be faithful during years spent together? or it will be a bluff? and today positive energy will transform in tomorrow crummy and empty plot?
Floods of questions interchange with wine I drank
The bottle is empty
Here is the only power of choice
Time spent with it has passed quickly without realizing
Everything has flowed in the fluid
Could you swear on the fact that I was talking about wine rather than my true love?
are you really sure that adjectives and descriptions used for the former are suitable also for the latter?
I believe there's no difference between them, and maybe there's never been
They merge with each other like beautiful apects of life
They flow inside us
Blood and wine merge with each other
and only then it's right to believe that the excellence is the only expectation to aspire to
and keep in mind that life is just one and too short to drink shoddy wine.