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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.


The Friday Confessional, February 13th


Confession Number 55:  I keep a secret stash of junk food in my studio.  As my studio is right next to the International District, and therefore my favorite Asian Supermarket, that stash is usually written in foreign languages that I can not read, and therefore, can not be held responsible for their ingredients (read: corn syrup).  Currently there may or may not be a box of "Pocky for Men (and what does that mean? Men get the dark chocolate and women get the milk? I think that's all backwards!)," a package of those vanilla wafers (you know, the really addictive ones that you have to put away after having two or else you'll crunch through the whole pack), and one or two stragglers in a bag of sour chewy things.  I hide them in various places.  From myself.  But somehow, I always seem to find them.  I'm taking this to mean I need a bigger studio.