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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.


A Tribute to the Girliest Night Ever


I'm flying solo this weekend.  BC is away on business (but that doesn't mean you're not checking my blog does it babe?) and I've the run of the house all to myself which you can translate into Total Chick Night.  So, I kid you not, the evening's run down has looked exactly like this:

*Attend First Thursday Art Openings (saying "Hello" to a little, tiny piece I have up in a group show of artist sketches).
*Become misty eyed in public looking at the most provocatively beautiful show of photography I've seen in a long time.
*Swing by my favorite neighborhood wine shop for a bottle of vino, picked out by the trusty owner.
*Drink said red wine and read poetry while sitting with my kitty boys (yes, I've completely become that woman).
*Hand wash my lady wear (I am a huge believer in small luxuries, like quality undergarments that make you feel like goddess even when you're wearing your scruffies).
*Spend an unmentionable about of time browsing the gazillion pages of Etsy, trying very hard to not press "Buy."
*Whip up a batch of brownies, which happen to smell AMAZING right this very second!

Looking back over that list it appears I have forgotten to eat dinner.  BUT what is truly fabulous, is that in the spirit of Total Chick Night, I think I'll whip up nothing but a massive bowl of steamed spinach, a plate of strawberries, and a healthy hunk of dill-havarti cheese. FABULOUS!

As a total side note, BC and I played a game of "would you rather do this or this" last night and after serious debate, the results were in.  If I had it to do over again, and my career choices were to be a professional golfer or an extreme cage fighter, I would land punches like none other.  There is no way I could ever see myself in a tidy polo with my Nike sponsorship and perfectly straight pony tail (not that there is anything wrong with golf, mind you! Actually I think it is the much wiser choice.  And it's what BC picked).  No, not for me.  I'd be the scrappy one in the rawhide outfit with rhinestones,throwing out roundhouse kicks that would make Chuck Norris proud.  Absolutely.

So what would you be?