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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.


Home Sweet Home


Leaving on a jet plane...

Sunsets that place a gal in bodily danger of being run over as she crosses streets, gawking wide eyed to the West.

Gluttonous Reading

Almost being run over again due to the shocking bands of heavenly light.

Puddle Jumper

Growing from every crack in the sidewalk, up every chain-link fence, around every white-washed tree trunk, the bougainvillea flashed their paper-thin vibrance.

Cacti nursery at sunset, one thousand glowing deadly orbs radiating in the humid evening light.

When in Rome; open mouths for cerveza... mouths for guacamole.

And just like that, we're back to the shaded streets of my city, sleeping under a fluffy pile of [extraordinarily clingy] kitty boys,
breathing slower,
breathing deeper,
feeling the rhythm in the soles of our shoes
feeling back
feeling here
feeling home.