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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.


I Wish You Could Have Heard It


And by "it" I mean the crazed squeal I just let loose in the studio.  I'm pretty sure the neighbors heard.  I was digging around for something (I've since completely forgotten what, clearly it was of lesser importance) in few remaining unpacked boxes in the studio and found THESE.
And by "these" I mean a sack of beach pottery carefully culled and collected and packed for the move, then gone missing for months.
There are some serious treasures in here friends.  Like, if ancient pottery of this caliber was flung during Mardi Gras instead of beads, I might spend a lot of time in compromising outfits.  Needless to say, I've been hunched over my studio desk sorting and arranging for the better part of an hour, feeling a bit like Gollum with fingerless gloves and a cold cup of coffee.
"my pretties!  my precious!"
In other Sundayish news, there has been a bit of this and a bit of that: letter writing, trying to pass off a new mug as "this old thing" when BC asked (it didn't work - that man knows my addiction well), our first tentative sips of homemade kefir, and some G. Love on repeat, nice and loud.
Letters and Coffee
Letters and Coffee
Plus several hours spent carving a sheet of silver into magic.
Like a busy little bee
And while I know there is more to say, my fingers are twitching and itching to find the perfect bit of history to set in sterling.  Here's me, hoping your weekend has been restful and delicious!
To answer the call...
 ~ Umber ~