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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.


From woods and water


When I left last week I felt like a treasure hunter.

And treasure I found.

My cup, which has seen little else besides a few swirling dregs, is filling up. I'm willing it to overflow. For the first time since the move, since the call, I opened up the door to my studio, spread out a huge sheet of paper and began to work in earnest.

There are little splish splashes all over the floor.

I think the cup might be running over.