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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 October 2nd


Confession Number 87: I am a 29 year old female living in the city, with a love for [quirky] fashion; big heels, bigger jewelry and wearing dresses to the grocery store. I do not own a single tube of lipstick. FREAKISH, I KNOW. My reasoning (which, as always, is solid as a rock) balances between the fear that if I start wearing lipstick, I will soon reach the point in life where I have consumed 8 pounds of the rouge (so not an urban legend). Somehow my obsessive-compulsive application of chap-stick and "natural moisturizing lip-glosses" falls out of this fear range (but if I though long and hard about it, I've probably doubled that consumption rate in beeswax - GROSS!). The other half of it is a long-standing knowledge that I have a large mouth and really, how much more do I need to accentuate it? I kid you not: Apparently when I was born and opened my whopper for that initial wail, the doctor's first words were "Wow, this kid has a BIG mouth!" So you just go with it. And win marshmallow eating contests. And smile big. And, 29 years later, still debate over wether or not to give into the kisser and paint it up.