Childhood was unlike most, growing up in the quaint wine village of Saint Emilion. She played hide and go seek in some of the world's most prized vineyards and chased her cousins through the winding cellars while harvested grapes turned to vintages of gold. Wine was in her blood, but song was in her heart. The local villagers encouraged her singing along the cobbled streets with treats like freshly baked macaroons and chocolate truffles. The truth is, she never needed much encouragement. It was always assumed she would follow in gererations of her family member's footsteps.
Every step of life was set to music in her mind. As she swirled the perfect blend of Merlot and Cabernet Franc in her glass, she could hear the brush in perfect motion on the snare drum. The percussions grew with trucks dumpling a fresh haul on the sorting table, new barrels being rolled in from the drying sun, and the first press being squeezed from the Cabernet grapes. Her father always thought she was daydreaming, but she was composing and the words were crying to come out.
There is the life you are given and the life that you choose. And there is the life that chooses you. Time to sing.
When Victoria needs inspiration, she closes her eyes and travels back to the winding cobbled streets and familiar smells of fresh baked bread and macaroons. She recalls the sounds of anticipation surrounding each vintage. The love and passion poured into caring for each berry as they mature holding the hopes and futures of every owner and worker in their delicate hands. It is a masterpiece with a beginning, a crescendo, a climax, and a finish, and oh what a magnificent finish.