Winter Barn, Purple Shadows

© Robin Edmundson, 'Winter Barn, Purple Shadows', watercolor, 10 x 14 inches
Framed to 18 x 22 inches. $375

The shadows this winter have been really interesting.   It's been so wet that there is a perpetual haze in the woods and it's been so cloudy that the shadows aren't their typical winter blue.  I've enjoyed the challenge and have been happily experimenting with new color combinations.   This one made me particularly happy. 

Belonging

© Robin Edmundson, 'Haybales, Blue Trees, Quail', watercolor, 10 x 14 inches. 
Framed to 18 x 22 inches.   $375

I've been thinking a lot lately about belonging - or rather not belonging.   It's a human thing to gather into like-minded groups and to identify as 'belonging' vs. not belonging; it's a 'we' vs. 'other' thing. 

Like most people, I belong to a number of groups, and I identify with many different things.   Most of the time, I am very aware of how I am different from others in the group and in the past some people have been unpleasant when they found out about those differences. For that reason, I hang out around the fringes of most of my groups, participating cheerfully, but never quite going all-in.   I never feel like I truly belong.

It occurred to me the other night that while I don't feel like I truly belong to any particular group, I do feel like I truly belong to a particular place.

I belong to rural Indiana.  I feel it deeply - at the atomic level.  The wind is my breath,  the earth my flesh,  the creeks my blood. 

That one realization was a turning point for me in my work.   When I tap into that feeling of belonging - of being 'one' with this place - then my work takes on a certain kind of pleasing character and flow.   People respond to those pieces in ways that I would never have predicted. 

This kind of belonging is a powerful thing.

D. Omer 'Salty' Seamon

This week I went to Rose-Hulman Institute of Technology in Terre Haute, Indiana to deliver 22 paintings for an upcoming show there.   [So exciting!].

I knew that Rose-Hulman had been the recipient of the D. Omer Seamon art legacy and that they had dozens of original works by him, but imagine my utter delight when I realized that the room we went to to sign the paperwork was full of these beautiful works - and that I'd get a bit of time to see them up close. 

In the pic above, Christy Brinkman, curator of the Rose-Hulman art collection, is holding one of Salty's rural landscapes.  It's a painting of a small rural cemetery.   I love these places and am thrilled to see them painted in such a warm and peaceful way. 

This is a large painting of some western Indiana barns - some of my own favorite subjects.  I love his treatment of the sky and foreground grass.

One corner of the room is covered with his smaller works hanging on the wall.  Treasures, every single one.  

This tiny painting was about the size of a business card, if that.  Rumor has it that he said the small ones were painted with 'a drop of watercolor'.   

I have a lot to learn from Salty Seamon and fervently hope that I get a chance to spend more time with these beautiful works this year.  

Linton Barn

© Robin Edmundson, 'Linton Barn', watercolor, 18 x 24 inches.

We came upon this barn while we were out birding near Goose Pond, south of Linton.  I was inspired by the many contrasts: 

• angles & curves
• light & dark
• blue & gold
• lines & space

I decided to emphasize those contrasts, so I did a couple of drafts to test out colors and composition and got some great feedback from my critique group.   [I can't tell you how important it is to get feedback on your work!]   Then I dove in.  I'm especially happy with all of the textures.    I'll be submitting this one to this year's Hoosier Salon.  Fingers crossed it will be selected for the show.

Goose Pond, February Fields - Plein Air

© Robin Edmundson, 'Goose Pond, February Fields - Plein Air', watercolor, 9 x 12 inches.

I went to Goose Pond again a few days ago and was so happy that the sun was shining this time.  Also, there were thousands and thousands of sandhill cranes that kept flying over.   I love that.   

My goal for these plein air sessions is to be able to focus enough to quickly find a composition from the vast landscape, get the drawing and painting going and to finish within 2 1/2 hours.   I did this one in under 2 hours and am pretty happy with the composition.   Practice, practice, practice!

October Maple

© Robin Edmundson, 'October Maple', watercolor, 18 x 24 inches.  

I hope you're having a wonderful weekend!  I'm doing my best to eat as much pie as possible.

There's always that one maple in the neighborhood that puts on a show every year.  I love that red that shows up on the south side.   I'm always grateful for how beautiful things are in the fall here.  I've been painting a few of these October scenes to help keep that wonderful color here as long as I can before I switch to the winter palette.

The birds are moving through these days.   Flocks of cranes overhead, flocks of cedar waxwings, starlings, crows and others filling up the trees and gleaning in the fields.   It's an active time of year before things get really cold and quiet.

I think I'm going to start another of these colorful ones today.

Violet and Orange

Last time I painted these tanks in a limited palette of cobalt, burnt sienna, raw umber and Fr. ultramarine blue.

It was nice.   Quiet.

This time, I wanted to do a portrait orientation, focus more on the tanks in front of the silos and I wanted to punch up the color.

So I used diox violet, Mission's burnt sienna [which they say is more like a quin gold  deep], quin burnt orange and some cerulean.   Heavy on the violet.

This one is not so quiet.

Painting it made me really happy.   I totally channeled Wolf Khan the whole time.   [Seriously, that guy is A.May.Zing.]  I'll be doing more experiments like these.

For more on Wolf Khan, try this site.

Waiting for Spring

A couple of weeks ago, Eric and I took a drive to take some pics of the farms around here.  It's a good time of year because the snow lit everything up and the leaves are all down, so I can get pics of stuff that might be hidden the rest of the year.

I was targeting white houses and farm buildings.   On a road we hadn't driven before, I found a farm with all these silos and tanks out front.   I loved all the round shapes and it was the first painting I did with the new reference photos.

It felt great to paint this limited palette scene after working so hard on the Mardi Gras painting.

As always, I started with a rough draft to get shapes lines and colors.   This was my second attempt.   I called it good enough.   Next I want to do a close up of the tanks in front.   In some new colors.

December White Roofs

© Robin Edmundson, 'December Roofs, Clay County Farm', watercolor, 9 x 12 inches

Over the past decade or so, a lot of folks out here are replacing their old asphalt shingle roofs with metal ones, like we did.

On frosty mornings, those roofs shine white no matter what color they are.   All the different white shapes look awesome on winter days when the farms are all buttoned up, against the blue shadows and the brown fields.

I did this painting after driving by a series of these farms in Clay County, Indiana earlier this month.  I especially love how the fields went from dark brown in the foreground to very blue in the distance.   Indiana is really beautiful all seasons of the year.  

Clay County is in the west center of the state about 1/2 hour southeast of Terre Haute.  It's in the open, flat part of Indiana and there are fields and farms like this one as far as you can see.

Details:
Arches 140lb paper, cold process [not]
Limited palette:  cobalt blue, raw umber, burnt umber, French ultramarine blue
Lots of dry brushwork in the fields to get that texture.

Rural Yard Decor

We have a little house, so while we were re-doing the bathroom, we had to put the toilet and tub somewhere, so they went outside.   

Charming.

Sigh.

There's nothing that says redneck quite like a tub in your yard.  

Eric asked me if he should just dig a hole next to the fire pit and install it as a hot tub.    Then he suggested that we could use it as a big boiler for maple syrup.  

I think he's been living out here too long.

I was telling my sister about it and she sent me this great pic.

My favorite part is the garden gnome behind the toilet.    [If you look closely, it's a buddha, but that just hurts my brain, so I'm pretending it's a garden gnome.]  

It's the next big thing in rural yard decor.   

And you saw it here first.