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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.

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Bunny Bunny What?

UmberDove

jackrabbit

I honestly cannot believe it's already Thursday!  My weeks have such a strange cadence that I find myself musing over what a long weekend it's been, only to realize the week has steam rolled right on by.  But I'm back, some new *plumbing in my chest, and recovering well from Round 4, a.k.a. the half-way marker.  I've got an exquisite pile of sea stones gathered from the coast last week spread out on the dining room floor and an even larger stack of them on my studio desk.  I've filled pages and pages this week in my sketchbook, pouring out heart-song and heart-tears, making room in the well of me for more creative energy to pour forth.  And it has.

both
quail

I find it amazing that we, breathing, thinking, creating humans have access to a bottomless well-spring of inspiration.  That when we ask, we really do receive.  That as an artist, images "stick" to me, I mull them over in my mind, commit them to paper or canvas or stone, and then one day the image shifts ever so subtlety.  I look at it from a new angle, through a new refraction, and suddenly new meaning floods the gates and I can not grab for a pencil fast enough.  As if I needed to work with the subject, study it, commit to it, before the deepest concept could be grasped.  Does this make any sense to you?  It's one of those whispery, flutter things that refuses to be pinned down by my words.

feather

I also feel that I should tell you I'm bald as a jay bird these days.  While it's been my reality for going on a month now, I've not had the heart to talk about it publicly (I know you'll forgive me, but it's been one of those things I just couldn't unpry my fingers from).  The mohawk didn't stay around for too long before throwing in the towel, but I gelled that puppy tight to my head just as long as I could.  It's an odd feeling, this whole no-hair-business, and I'd be lying if I didn't say it threw me for more of a loop than I ever anticipated.  I'm coming to terms, new every day, but this stage, it's kinda rough.

However I've got the love of a great man who brings me new bandanas in brilliant shades of green and blue, and the determination to stand up even straighter and walk this line too.  

*****
OH YES
All of this other fluff almost caused me to forget!  Plan on a DOUBLE shoppito update Monday the 18th, starting sometime around after-breakfast-and-shower-o'clock which probably means noon PST (my mother gave me a mild chiding for not giving her a time frame last round, but MUMS, don't worry!  I've always got special love for you!).

There will be sea stones, adorned in floating feathers and ghostly antlers, quails and rabbits and more OH MY!
There will be new textiles; pillows of linen and love, in imagery that I'm going to make you wait for (heehee)!
I'll be posting a blog preview here before any new creations land light in the shops, so hold fast little chickadees!


With that, I'm off to eat a huge pile of lettuce decorated with carrots, chickpees and avocado.



* I kid you not, the doctor who placed the port gave a little chuckle and called it plumbing as he explained the procedure to me.  PLUMBING! *