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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.


A Tribute Piece


* * * * (A Tribute Piece)

This was a lesson in slowing.  The push and pull of sinew, the animal warmth, scent rising as heavenly incense.  The tactile delight of mortals.
This was breath.  Rhythm.  Wisps of song sliding upward.  Bits of prayer tumbling forth.  A quiet.  A roar.  A quivering in the sleek tide of night.
This was homage to cellular souls long melded with stardust.  Tribute to the spark and the small feet that carried it.  A paean of gratitude, life for life in the cyclical dance.
* * *
(vintage rabbit fur, tanned deer skin, sterling silver, ocean jasper.  A absolute labor of love and meditation)