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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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UmberDove

Five Things Friday (Gift)
I've become extra picky and discerning regarding the nests I bring home this winter - a far cry from the enthusiastic collecting frenzy I embarked upon last year. But this one... she's a beaut.  I may need to do up a quick watercolor.  Or a series.  Watercolor nests?  Sounds good.
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I'm listening hard to my own truths, those tracks that lead you ever farther off the broad path and into the deepest woods with the richest loam and most fertile detritus.  On that and other virtues of introversion, this TED speech by Susan Cain was one of the most inspired things I've heard all week.  I love TED speeches.  It's been around for a while, but one of my very favorite ones is Elizabeth Gilbert speaking on the muse.  If you've not heard either, well, load them up stat.
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It was cold, so cold in the shadow of the Ridge that my lips were too numb to whistle at the pups. I should have worn mittens.  I really need a manicure.  Luckily for me, as I crunched through frozen mud and hardened grasslands, I bought these for my feet a few weeks back and have hardly worn anything else since.  Thank the boot gods!
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I keep trying to deep clean the studio, really shake out the dust and wax on a fine polish, but there are just too many ideas.  I clear off the desk and feel immediately called to roll out fresh paper, spread out the paints.  I categorize the cabochons and chains and then immediately realize I need them all back out again.  In the meantime, I'm collecting my lusty dream studio spaces right here.

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This week, like so many others, has held the full tide of creative highs and lows: I burned the holy shit out of a gorgeous ring (a large, large, multi layered thing) and then created one of the most sacred tribute pieces that has ever passed through my hands.  There is so much capacity for fullness in any given day, week, year.  So much capacity for listening, for seeing, for seeking.  I'm just learning so much these days.
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I'd love to hear one bit from your week, just a little something, if you feel compeled to share!  Either way, I wish you a weekend full of woolen mittens and robins gifts!