“This wine is like this to me” is an incredibly important point, and one that gets overlooked in wine discussion about 98% of the time. We all have different sensory perception thresholds, and different sensory associations. Your blazing acidity might be my refreshing, or my undrinkably acidic.
Fascinating that you are a synesthete. I found out that I have aphantasia. (I only learned the term recently). I see nothing in my mind's eye. (It always felt like a metaphor). ... It makes sense now why I'm so kinesthetic.
I love your combination of your painting with the wines. Even though I don't see much in my mind's eye, I love visual art, am a painter (though I haven't painted in a while). And I especially love the movement in your painting.
Finally, I have to admit that my favorite part about the experience of wine (at this point) may be talking about it. Talking about it begs us to slow down and notice - what we are tasting, feeling, seeing, smelling. Even if we don't love the taste of the wine we are drinking, the process is so satisfying. I still have to learn to identify my experience well enough to describe it, but just the attempt helps.
Thank you for reading and these thoughtful remarks. I'm especially glad the painting resonates.
I'd never heard of aphantasia and it sounds like the exact opposite of my normal mental state of being! I have extraordinarily vivid dreams and the visual narrative also compels my everyday experience. I cannot imagine what it is like not to "envision" something not present. It is not burdensome, I hope?
I've been exploring the languages of wine with both academic and aesthetic curiosity, and for the last year have been working on papers and presentations about wine lexicons and their role in conveying meaning. (At this moment I'm drafting a shorter paper focused on the languages of Pinot noir.) Over the last half-century, wine commentary went from principally describing the personality and character of wine to describing its organoleptic properties, flavors and aromas, mostly, with excruciating detail and precision. I find the phenomenon problematic from many perspectives, and have been a vocal critic of codified lexicons that create exclusionary boundaries using subjective and culturally-embedded metaphors. On which more later, but suffice that I agree that talking about wine can feel like an urgency that must be obeyed, and finding new methods of communicating experience can only help us advance our understanding and enjoyment.
I don't find it burdensome at all. Except when my husband and I were doing a "visualization" exercise together, and I just couldn't and he could! Now, I just lean into the things I can do. I'm very kinesthetic, so it's about feel. And sound, etc. So, for example, maps are fine, and I can read them. But they don't mean much to me until I've been to a place. I do a better job remembering the way something "feels" where I was walking, where I moved in space. Sounds strange, but that's just how it always has been. I always find myself walking a lot or driving a lot to acquaint myself to a new location, where my husband will study a map.
That is really interesting - the subjective / culturally-embedded metaphors. Especially if people learn that's the way they should talk about wine, then it will impact the experience.
Do you find that you want to "go back" to talking about wine more as a character, or continue to describe its sensed properties? Or a combination of both?
I admit, I find the idea of a wine having a character/personality fascinating.
I'm glad it's not burdensome. It does seem like an important thing to realize about oneself, especially in relationship.
Regarding talking about wine in character, I think I've long done this, to some extent, and it doesn't feel retrograde to me. In general I recommend that wine drinkers speak from their heart, using their own motifs and metaphors, whatever makes sense to them culturally, socially — to invoke their own flavor memories and evocations. Creating one's own personal vocabulary is a way of opening conversation with others about experience. There's no "correct" or objectively right answer to the question, "what is this wine like?" It's always subjective, personal.
“This wine is like this to me” is an incredibly important point, and one that gets overlooked in wine discussion about 98% of the time. We all have different sensory perception thresholds, and different sensory associations. Your blazing acidity might be my refreshing, or my undrinkably acidic.
David, thank you. Taste is subjective!
Fascinating that you are a synesthete. I found out that I have aphantasia. (I only learned the term recently). I see nothing in my mind's eye. (It always felt like a metaphor). ... It makes sense now why I'm so kinesthetic.
I love your combination of your painting with the wines. Even though I don't see much in my mind's eye, I love visual art, am a painter (though I haven't painted in a while). And I especially love the movement in your painting.
Finally, I have to admit that my favorite part about the experience of wine (at this point) may be talking about it. Talking about it begs us to slow down and notice - what we are tasting, feeling, seeing, smelling. Even if we don't love the taste of the wine we are drinking, the process is so satisfying. I still have to learn to identify my experience well enough to describe it, but just the attempt helps.
Thank you for reading and these thoughtful remarks. I'm especially glad the painting resonates.
I'd never heard of aphantasia and it sounds like the exact opposite of my normal mental state of being! I have extraordinarily vivid dreams and the visual narrative also compels my everyday experience. I cannot imagine what it is like not to "envision" something not present. It is not burdensome, I hope?
I've been exploring the languages of wine with both academic and aesthetic curiosity, and for the last year have been working on papers and presentations about wine lexicons and their role in conveying meaning. (At this moment I'm drafting a shorter paper focused on the languages of Pinot noir.) Over the last half-century, wine commentary went from principally describing the personality and character of wine to describing its organoleptic properties, flavors and aromas, mostly, with excruciating detail and precision. I find the phenomenon problematic from many perspectives, and have been a vocal critic of codified lexicons that create exclusionary boundaries using subjective and culturally-embedded metaphors. On which more later, but suffice that I agree that talking about wine can feel like an urgency that must be obeyed, and finding new methods of communicating experience can only help us advance our understanding and enjoyment.
I don't find it burdensome at all. Except when my husband and I were doing a "visualization" exercise together, and I just couldn't and he could! Now, I just lean into the things I can do. I'm very kinesthetic, so it's about feel. And sound, etc. So, for example, maps are fine, and I can read them. But they don't mean much to me until I've been to a place. I do a better job remembering the way something "feels" where I was walking, where I moved in space. Sounds strange, but that's just how it always has been. I always find myself walking a lot or driving a lot to acquaint myself to a new location, where my husband will study a map.
That is really interesting - the subjective / culturally-embedded metaphors. Especially if people learn that's the way they should talk about wine, then it will impact the experience.
Do you find that you want to "go back" to talking about wine more as a character, or continue to describe its sensed properties? Or a combination of both?
I admit, I find the idea of a wine having a character/personality fascinating.
I'm glad it's not burdensome. It does seem like an important thing to realize about oneself, especially in relationship.
Regarding talking about wine in character, I think I've long done this, to some extent, and it doesn't feel retrograde to me. In general I recommend that wine drinkers speak from their heart, using their own motifs and metaphors, whatever makes sense to them culturally, socially — to invoke their own flavor memories and evocations. Creating one's own personal vocabulary is a way of opening conversation with others about experience. There's no "correct" or objectively right answer to the question, "what is this wine like?" It's always subjective, personal.