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I am UmberDove.

And by that, I mean an artist.  One who hears stories in the wind, who paints because it is what her soul tells her to do, who smiths because the muse moves through her fingertips, who loves nothing more than the promise of an unexplored trail, the sound of the ocean in her ears, and scent of a serious cup of coffee.

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UmberDove


In my sudden (and highly typical) gusts of whirling activity I forgot to tell you all that I was leaving town for the bright lights of Lodi, California (in case you don't know Lodi, which you most probably do not, bright lights is a bit of an overstatement. Ok, not even a bit. A huge overstatement. As in NOTHING is open past 7:00pm. Takes some getting used to when you generally hit up late night happy hours after the moon rises). But it is where I did most of my growing up, and the nostalga of flat fields covered in grapevines and the musky scent of live oaks feels as familiar as a well-loved blanket.

I'm sitting here in the cool and quiet of my parents house but wanted to share a few images of what will always be home.


Tangerines, ripening for Christmas.



Yvette, Queen Silky Chicken.


The biggest jumping spider I have ever seen.


Good ol' Saint Frank watching over the animals.


Feral bunnies in the brambles, greeting me on my evening run.


A collection of cans.


I hope you all find a spot of peace this weekend, in the sun, the snow or the sprinkles.
Mine will be here.

Cheerio,
- Umber