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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.


Being Out and Returning In


Being Out
I needed to get out the city today, to breath in the crisp air of autumn swirling down from the mountains and feel the fullness of my stride covering un-humanized land, rich with bear scat and elk prints and a plethora of woodpeckers flashing white rumps in the sun.
There is something about miles of land that causes all the little shutters in my chest to fly open and the wild wind whistles through like the rustle of aspens on the riverbanks.
I need that.  Truly I do.
* * *

I should mention I'm home!  The weekend was exactly what it needed to be: laughter until my cheeks ached, phenomenal dining, authentic sharing of heart, two women whom I'm honored to count as dear friends, one babe with a grin the size of Texas, and plenty of whiskey all around.
It's such an interesting life, such an interesting dichotomy:
True community deepens my heart, refocuses my purpose, brings me laughter and a sense of "I am not alone in this crazy thing called life."
Wild solitude broadens my heart, clears my head, brings me bliss and a sense of "I belong here with my feet on this earth."

I suppose I just want the best of both worlds.
I suppose that's not a bad thing to want.
* * *

It's a rambling sort of afternoon, easy and thoughtful.  I'm grateful.  I'm thirsty.  I'm in the middle of painting a gray fox and two quails.  I have piles of sketches littering the metal bench: necklaces, earrings, odonata wings abound, more than I'll be able to make this week.  I've been trying to grab a photo of the cheekiest squirrel who scrambles up and down the juniper, boldly spying in on me (BC keeps faux threatening to buy a pellet gun, I keep faux threatening to buy a squirrel feeder.  Either way, we've got money on Freyja catching one before the year runs out, little huntress that she is).

It's good out there people.  It's good in here too.

I'd love to hear what you're up to today!