As a maker, I understand my role to be that of changing one thing to another.

What I didn’t realize upon becoming a winemaker was how much this making would change me.

What has been given to craft has been found again. Like a refurbished childhood memory, I am changed. Truer. More myself.

Until now, we’ve shied away from skin contact fermentation. This year is different, made possible with wider steel tanks and a new punch down tool.

Today, we pressed our first serious vintage of skin-contact fruit. No longer an experiment in potential.

Every time I get tired doing punch downs in my fancy new wine tanks, I remind myself of everyone who told me I couldn’t do it.

And as if by magic, I’m not tired at all.

Here’s to another grape crush for the books.

The 2025 grape harvest begins!

2024 Chambourcin. Spring House Vineyard. The crush begins.

Finding refuge in the apple harvest.

The world feels precarious. Humanity, unpredictable.

But the apples continue to ripen. The wind still roams quietly over the valley. The dry September sun still bakes my shoulders as I work.

Life continues.

A vineyard at sunset, a dinner on the road, and a moment missed.

This month’s newsletter is about how our work in wine and agriculture is simultaneously our practice towards living a peaceful life.

Read or listen for free on Substack.

open.substack.com/pub/artemisi...

I’m really enjoying the new autobiographical format of our newsletter. It’s become a kind of gratitude journal, which for the majority of my writerly existence, hasn’t been my style.

This month‘s newsletter was particularly fun to write.

artemisiafarmandvineyard.substack.com/p/april-news...

Our 2023 Equinox Gentiane is officially available.

Leaner and more concentrated than the 2022 vintage, it’s a portrait of an old Appalachian table: hickory bark, sweet potato, and wild mountain blossoms.

Grab a bottle on our website.

shop.artemisia.farm/products/equ...

I heard it was National Women in Wine Day. I’m showing up late to the celebration.

Cheers to all the other woman-bodied winemakers in cellars held together by masking tape and caulk.

I don’t have much to say about this day other than a message to the women who need to hear it:

You got this.

First peepers of the season.

Some stills from our recent Thistle 2023 release.

We tried something new this time. It was an honest capture of our lives in gritty focus.

Getting home late, reading (more) disastrous breaking news, finding solace in music.

No glitzy tasting room. No shiny cellar. Just simple, real moments.

Thistle 2023: a vignette. See the full video on Substack.

substack.com/@artemisiafa...

For people 35+

Is that the sound of a modem connecting?

Nope! Just the nitrogen canister we use to gas our wines before capping them.

Welcome to our winery, where the agony of dial-up never left.

A bowl of soup. A jar of wine. A conversation about pleasure, contentment, and astrology.

The latest newsletter is all about it how we find contentment in a discontent world, and how you can, too.

Read or listen for free on Substack.

artemisiafarmandvineyard.substack.com/p/february-n...

The world is on fire, but I still have my work.