The sun had barely risen on a spring day in 2007 when I pointed my car westward towards California and drove away from the place where I had assumed for many years that I would live for the rest of my life.  In Atlanta, spring exists in name only, and it was the type of morning that gives a cool respite in those early and quiet hours, with the unbroken promise of more heat to come.  I had packed everything I could fit into my truck and was leaving behind a recent heartbreak, but also the best friends in my life, just before my 25th birthday, with no concrete plan aside from the prospect of a cellar internship at a small winery owned by my aunt and uncle. 

I don’t remember much from the drive, aside from the constant music, the peace of the sunrises, and the raw emotions that I was not equipped to process or even understand at the time.  It was an uneasy feeling, one of driving both away from something painful and towards something uncertain at the same time.  I was unsure of how long I would stay, and more importantly what I was looking for in making such a drastic change in the course of my life. 

I had always wanted my life to revolve around making something for other people to enjoy, but I have never possessed the talent for music, art, or writing as much as I would have liked.  I found in wine a similar outlet, a way to have a conversation without words, to give meaning to the unclear, to give joy with the inanimate.  Winemaking has taken me from Napa to New Zealand to Italy, Spain, Portugal, and France.  I am forever thankful to the craft, and like any noble pursuit, I find that the more years you spend doing it, the more you realize you don’t know.  I am humbled every time I get to share a wine with a stranger or an old friend, and I hope that these wines bring you even a small sense of joy.

- Jeremy Carter: Founder and Winemaker