Floral Collection of Original Watercolors - in the online shop now!

 

© Robin Edmundson, ‘Pink Poppies’, watercolor, 12.6 x 9.4 inches.

Framed, to pick up at the studio, $350

[In the online shop, unframed $280, including shipping]

It is sleeting as I write this. Winter has come in all her unapologetic brashness. The garden is resting; the leaves are finally coming down; birds are moving south in flocks, like floating rivers that flow for miles as they move across the sky. It’s an energizing time of year.

I am not ready for winter.

I never am. Why am I always surprised at the falling temperatures? There’s a part of me that is ever hopeful that this year southern Indiana will have all the winter fun without me actually feeling cold. Hah!

My shows for the year have ended and all the artwork is back in the studio. As I put things away, I found myself keeping the florals out for a while longer so I could spend some extra time ‘in the garden’ as it were.

I wondered if you might like that, too, so I have put my Floral Collection in the online shop [link below] to make it easy for you to purchase.

This is how it works:

If you fall in love with a piece, you can purchase it right away online. Everything is priced to be mailed, unframed, to US addresses. [Bonus - in the case of the smaller pieces, if the mat fits in the package, too, I’ll leave it matted for you.]

If you are able to pick it up at the studio and want it framed, let me know and you can pay me the extra when you pick it up. You’ll find the ‘framed’ price in the item description in the shop.

Note: This collection will be available in the shop until December 1.

 

Click here to go to the Floral Collection online

p.s. I had one more floral [Zinnias, below] that is a bit too large to fit into the mailers, so it’s not listed in the online shop. If you are interested in this piece and can pick it up at the studio, I’m happy to sell it either framed or unframed. Contact me.

© Robin Edmundson, ‘Zinnias, #4’, watercolor, 16 x 12 inches. [Framed to 22 x 18 inches, $450. Unframed $365. Must be picked up at the studio.]

Beech Trunks

©Robin Edmundson, 'Beech trunks', watercolor, 16 x 12 inches.  Framed $395.  

 

The trees never fail to bring me in.   My daily walk takes me through some heavily forested areas, some pastureland, some open fields, some small wetland - all within just a couple of miles of here.   

The flora and fauna vary according to the habitat, which makes me very happy.  I love the variety and endless flow of new things to get to know. 

The trees along the road are targets for the county bush hog so most of them have multiple trunks.   The bush hog got them one year, but during hard times, the county didn't mow them the following year.  If the weather is right, that's enough time for a strong root system to put up multiple trunks.   

They're beautiful and interesting and full of surprises. 

[This is another version of 'Place to Rest', which I posted in May]

Barn on a Hill, Spring

 © Robin Edmundson, 'Barn, Hill, Spring', watercolor, 8 x 6 inches.  Framed $125.

Sometimes I have a vision in my head of what I want to paint, so I paint it and it turns out that I only need one part of if after all.   This is a small crop of a much larger experiment.   Love this. 

Bean Fields, Tulip

 ©Robin Edmundson, 'Bean Fields. Tulip Indiana, Fall', watercolor, 8 x 11 inches.  Framed $300

I've got my eye on this scene for a larger version.  I love the light here.   It's a beautiful piece of property that shines in every season.  

Grey Sky, Grey Barn

 

© Robin Edmundson, 'Grey Barn, Grey Sky', watercolor, 16 x 20 inches.  Framed $575.

The open prairie landscape seems like it goes on forever under a sky that goes on forever.   I had a friend from Nebraska in grad school who said he loved going home.  He'd get out of the car, take that first big deep breath and feel himself expand to fill the landscape.   

What a beautiful feeling.

Blue & Purple flowers

© Robin Edmundson, 'Blue & Purple Flowers' 959, watercolor, 9 x 12 inches.  Framed $300.

I can't wait for summer flowers in the garden.  Can't.  Wait.

The spring irises came and went and the roses are almost done.  I've got phlox and penstemon.  The veronica has just started and there are big buds on the echinacea and snapdragons.   I can feel them calling me to get ready.

What are your favorite flowers? 

Red Barn, Last Big Snow

 © Robin Edmundson, 'Red Barn, Last Big Snow', watercolor, 9 x 12 inches.   Framed $300.

After that last big snow we had in February, Eric grabbed a pic of this red barn, gold grass and blue snow shadows.  

Cherry Tree, Last Light

 

©Robin Edmundson, 'Cherry Tree, Last Light', watercolor,  9 x 12 inches.  Framed, $300

This time of year, there a space in the trees on the south that the evening sun shines through and spotlights that one little tree.   Enchanting. 

Pink Poppies

©Robin Edmundson, 'Pink Poppies' 951, watercolor, 12 x 9 inches.  

Framed $300

'Negative painting' is the technique of painting around something to show its shape.   We do this a lot in watercolor, since we can't paint light on top of dark.   We have to paint the dark around the light shape to indicate a light object.   

It takes some practice thinking about things differently, but the effects are outstanding and the process is fun, once you get the hang of it.   

Apples & Scale

 ©Robin Edmundson, 'Apples & Scale', watercolor, 9x12 inches.

I've discovered how much fun a still life can be.  I love this crop where you have a sense of what the scene is, but the focus is just that one red apple in front.  

I took some heat for that from a few people in my critique group, but I stand by the decision.   You don't have to show everything.   

Sometimes a poem is just as powerful as a novel.

Sunflower & Rose

Confession:  I'm not ready for winter.  So I was happy to find these small floral paintings that I had done over the summer and never posted here.   

I'm thinking you need a bit of cheer, too, right?   I hope these do it for you.

©Robin Edmundson, 'Sunflower', watercolor, 11 x 7 inches. 

Framed to 11 x 14 inches.  $280

©Robin Edmundson, 'Rose', watercolor, 7 x 5 inches. 

Framed to 8x10 inches.  $125

Explorations in Abstract Expressionism

 

©Robin Edmundson, 'Abex #1', watercolor, 10 x 14 inches.  

Unframed.  $250

Some things are just hard to talk about, and that's exactly what is great about 'abstract expressionism'.  It's art for the sake of expression - with no words or realism needed.   

Each piece is devoid of representation - except for what the viewer brings to the experience.  

I approached each of these with a personal idea/theme in mind - and I just let my intuition guide me through the process.   In the end, I learned quite a bit about myself and I find these exercises extremely enlightening.  

As I've shown them to people, the reactions are quite different from what I thought I was expressing and I am delighted at how personal the experience has been for me and for each viewer.  

I used each as an opportunity to explore compositions, intuition, new materials and new colors.  

Here are a few more that I've done lately: 

©Robin Edmundson, 'Abex #2', watercolor, 18 x 24 inches.  

Unframed.  $650

©Robin Edmundson, 'Abex #3', watercolor, 18 x 24 inches.  

Unframed.  $650

©Robin Edmundson, 'Abex #4', watercolor, 18 x 24 inches.  

Unframed.  $650

What have you been doing these days to express the unexpressable? 

Slowing Time

 

© Robin Edmundson, 'Backlit Barn, Early Fall', watercolor, 10 x 14 inches.  $375.

It's October already.  The leaves are turning and we've had our first frost. This year has kept on moving despite all the upheaval.  

I've been thinking a lot about time this year.   Sometimes it felt as if things were standing still and other times, I blink and it's 3 months later. 

I find myself a little anxious that things are moving too quickly for me and I feel like I'm always behind.  I want things to slow down.

Do you remember the Star Trek movie, Insurrection?   One of the themes is the ability to slow time.  There are a couple of lovely scenes where Picard is focused on something so intently that time slows right down.  

It's that intention, attention and focus that helps me 'slow time'.  

I was in the garden the other day, quickly picking beans, trying to finish and cross that thing off the list, when I looked up and saw a vulture gliding in slow curves on an updraft.  I heard myself breathe deep and as I focused on that beautiful arc of movement in the sky, I could feel time stop for moment.

And I watched.

We talk about time slowing down, but time is a constant.  Time marches on.  Time flies.  In Latin, 'tempus fugit' literally means time flees. It runs away.

It's we who have to slow down.  To stop. Time slows when we slow.  

That afternoon in the garden, it was not time that slowed and stopped. I was the one who slowed, who stopped for those moments with intention, to pay attention and to focus on that miracle of flight.  

That smooth glide through the sky.  

That silent, joyful, gentle spiral.  

Higher. On a breath of warm wind.  

Higher.  

Higher. 

Around in another slow arc. 

One more time.

Higher.

I stopped; time stopped.

The vulture floated higher and my heart rose with it.

I hope, my wonderful friends, that you take a moment to stop time for something lovely that crosses your path today. 

Queen Anne's Lace - Variations on a Theme

© Robin Edmundson, 'Queen Anne's Lace -791', watercolor, 8x10 inches.  

$280, framed.

I have a strong propensity for tweaking.   The more I tweak the darker things get.  In this first piece, I tried to reign in that tendency and put in as little background as possible. 

© Robin Edmundson, 'Queen Anne's Lace -792', watercolor, 8x10 inches.  

$280, framed.

In this second version, I let myself get as dark as I wanted.   I figure this is the best way to figure out what I like best.  Do the two and then put them side by side and think about it. 

The truth is that I like both.  I like the stronger edges of the second one, but I like the delicacy of the first one.    Which means I'll continue to work in a series where I can practice both approaches.   

Double the fun!

Which do you prefer?

Five Haybales: Afternoon

© Robin Edmundson, 'Five Haybales, Afternoon', watercolor, 10 x 14 inches.   $375.

Another in the 'Five Haybales' series.   This was the original 'light' intended for the composition.   I'm kind of loving those puffy afternoon clouds.  

Five Bales: A series

© Robin Edmundson, 'Five Bales, Dawn', watercolor, 10 x 14 inches.  $375.

Once in a while, I explore the same composition a bunch of times with different colors, different lights.  Working in a series with a strong composition lets me focus on other things than the shapes and composition; it frees me up to explore a lot of other things.  

In this series, I painted these five haybales in different light/times of day.  It was a lot of fun.  Over the next few days, I'll show you my favorites.

This first one started out with a 'What if I started with a wash of neutral gray?'   It quickly developed into a sunrise/dawn scene and I just went with it.  I walk at sunrise a lot in the summer and the light is very familiar to me.  

Silo & Barns

Today is the start of World Watercolor Month!   All this month, watercolorist are celebrating this wonderful elusive medium.  I'll try to post here as much as I can.   [Check out my Instagram feed for daily posts]

© Robin Edmundson, 'Silo & Barns', watercolor, 9 x 12 inches.

This is another piece that developed from a drawing started in the Ian Roberts study group.  It's interesting and fun to try a composition out on paper that is differently proportioned.   It stretches and compresses things in interesting ways.   

Here's the original drawing:

I'll likely paint this one again on a larger piece of paper with proportions similar to the drawing.  I like those trees on the right a whole lot.  

Even More Thoughts on Magic

This is another drawing from my class with Ian Roberts.  It's amazing how when you arrange a few lights and darks a certain way, suddenly a scene appears. 

Almost by magic.

I've been writing a lot about this kind of magic.  See my posts HERE and HERE. 

I realized as I looked through my work during the class, that there's still a big part of me that does not believe that I drew that. 

That part of me believes it must have been magic.   Some power outside of me that on a good day I can tap into, but not reliably, not regularly, not predictably. 

That was a surprise.  And then I reminded myself that it's not magic.  It's illusion.   

I got so caught up in the success of the illusion, that I bought into the 'magic' part of it too.  

Doing one of these a week for the next year is the best way I know to really internalize that these are reliable skills, not unpredictable magic bestowed and withdrawn at the whim of the Muses.  

  

Keeping it Simple

I'm taking a drawing class right now and for the next year will be doing a drawing a week like this one.

This time the reference photo was provided by the instructor, Ian Roberts and the exercise was in cropping.   The ref photo was a bigger scene of a French village.   

I'm pretty familiar with simple architecture and roof lines, but this piece gave me fits. I wasn't sure I could do it. I struggled. I fussed and fussed and fussed.  I made many disparaging remarks about French villages.  

In the end, I got the darks and lights in the right places and it looks as intended - like a French village.  

I learned more than drawing in this piece.   I learned that I can do more complicated, fussy compositions IF I remember to leave large areas very simple and to focus only on the details in the focal area.   

I have to keep repeating that to myself .   Keep it simple.  Keep it simple. 

I have a tendency to expect things to be hard.  Part of me wants them to be hard so that when I finally get it, it feels like a huge accomplishment - one deserving of a large reward.  [Which I never give myself, btw.]  It's how I prove my worth.  

However, over the years, this habit of doing hard things has been accompanied by a goodly amount of fear. I am always battling to prove myself. I'm always afraid that this time I won't be able to pull it off.

 

I need to stop.

I keep wondering if there's a way to make things easier and I think this is the key:  Keep it simple.  Keep the harder work just at the focal area.   

In this drawing class we spent a lot of time learning to intentionally focus on the important stuff and to intentionally simplify the rest. 

This is a strategy worth cultivating in many areas of my life.

Sycamore Series

Sycamore study #730, watercolor, 9 x 12 inches

I've been painting a lot of pictures of trees.   I have a favorite sycamore along our creek.  It is damp and covered with moss and vines.

The trick here is to suggest the idea of woods without spelling out all that chaos.   Lots of marks.  

Here is the second version: 

Sycamore study #731, 9 x 12 inches

The paint did more of the heavy lifting here and I'm in love with the stuff going on just to the left of the trunk. 

Now to try it bigger.  Much bigger.

Next version:

©Robin Edmundson, 'Sycamore - 733', watercolor, 18 x 24

Painting something that much larger requires a rethinking of many aspects of the piece.  Mostly it means larger brushes and a lot more paint preparation.   I like this more the more I sit with it.  I like the light, the moss, the balance of paint runs and marks, the lights and darks.  It feels like a friend. 

I'll be submitting this to the Hoosier Salon this year.