Sine Qua Non The Inaugural Eleven Confessions Syrah 2003

At that time, I was brimming with confidence. Whether standing alone in the wilderness, wandering alone in a deep forest, losing my way, or swaying alone in a small boat on the vast ocean, I believed I would never be shaken. I poured this wine into a glass, and each time, I couldn't help but remember myself behaving fiercely like a young lion separated from the pride. Its aroma captures me and won't let go, like a nostalgic past or a fantasy of a brilliant future. I can't resist reaching out to taste it.

The sky is endlessly high, the horizon stretches as far as the eye can see, and the earth remains steadfast and unyielding. I am made aware of my own insignificance. A single melody solemnly resounds like a distant rumble of the earth, gently like the sound of the sea. It overlaps one by one, becoming a majestic and complex baroque that surrounds me and echoes endlessly. It appears like a towering ant hill. It feels like the cry of a crowd. It stands like a sacred pillar supporting the heavens. It appeals to me: Pray, not to God, but to the power of humanity. Aim, not for the heavens, but for the direction of the voice.

Oh, you who have lost sight of yourself. You who are arrogant and thus abandoned by others. You who are tossed about by daily life, or who simply drift, surrendering to the dizzying flow of time. Open your palms, confirm the power that surges within, and visit this land. Here lies a dream that never ends. Here stands a great incompleteness.

Antoni Gaudí. Did you believe that people would never give up and would continue to weave your dream? Did you believe in this miracle, where countless young people gather from the west and even from the far east, not seeking anything, wielding hammers, manipulating trowels, unafraid of sweating, and together, with all their might, continue to create beyond the dream you envisioned? This wine is the eternal unfinished Sagrada Familia.