Northern Arizona is truly a remarkable place. I scratched my head for years wondering why no one had attempted to grow grapes in what appeared to be the perfect climate. Harsh yet mystical. A survivors paradise. I theorized a series of hurdles left over from the days of prohibition. Perhaps that minor hiccup in our nations history stunted the development of our palate and thus veiled the potential of this region. It would take a deeper understanding for the grace, the magic, the alchemy that is wine for someone to recognize this raw frontier as a gold mine for a gifted wine making pioneer. Surely Max Schubert would have grinned and shook his head in bewilderment to see the red rocks of Sedona devoid of one single solitary vineyard. A crime. It only took me a few years of staring across my porch at Mingus Mountain while drinking a glass of Chateauneuf du Pape for the spell to take effect. And when it did, I decided then and there to plant a vineyard.
Most of those I shared this vision with just sort of nodded and secretly hoped I would stay on my meds. But the few who truly recognize that look in my eye decided to ask the right question. They asked what kind of wine I intended to make. This question has a simple answer. My art and music has been described as "thick, dense, rich, complex, engaging, emotional, and spiritual," by those who are fans. And an "acquired taste" for those kind others who are not. Arizona is "thick, dense, rich, complex, engaging, emotional, and spiritual," as well as being an "acquired taste." We are a match made in heaven and surely these qualities will be reflected in the wine that Arizona will present to us. My job now is to LISTEN, As if a medium, to every detail no matter how subtle and present her story unaltered. Wish me luck.
- Maynard James Keenan
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