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]

Deep Woods, Sacred Ground

 

©Robin Edmundson, 'Two Trees, Deep Woods', watercolor, 18 x 24 inches.  $650, unframed.

Someone asked me recently what my personal symbols are. Those things that show up in many areas of life - the way some people have rainbows, or butterflies show up everywhere. I was mystified for a while. I don’t really collect things like that. 

And then one day I looked around the studio. Trees. A forest of them on my walls. Big ones. Little ones. Trees in all the seasons. 

Trees are a potent symbol for me. One of my favorite symbols is Yggdrasil, the Norse tree of life. Often it is depicted with a large beautiful crown - and an equally expansive root system. Balance. Strength [as opposed to power]. Life.

I can see woods from every window of my house. I walk there every day. The woods are my sacred ground. I move through the woods and the woods move through me. It’s an exquisite dance of spirit.

It’s hardly surprising then that trees show up in my work and on my walls. 

I’ve been thinking about ‘sacred ground’ ever since. Mulling over what that means for me, what it means for the woods and how we approach and care for them. 

The woods are a temple of the spirit for me. A place of rest, of peace, of solace. The dwelling place of god. Or God. Or Goddess. Or Spirit. Or the universe. Whatever works for you. 

It’s a good place - the best place - this sacred ground. 

I hope you have a chance to find and tend your sacred ground this season.

In Full Bloom

© Robin Edmundson, 'Bluebell Wood, Full Bloom', watercolor and ink, 14 x 10 inches.
Framed to 20 x 16 inches.  $375.

I know it's too early for bluebells, but that delicious color just calls to me.   I've been thinking about my trees in different seasons, trying to figure new ways to combine favorite subjects in a new way.

Still some work to do, but I'm having fun doing it.

Three sycamores

© Robin Edmundson, 'Three Sycamores', watercolor and ink, 14 x 10 inches.
Framed to 20 x 16 inches.  $375.

Here's another view of my favorite group of sycamores down the way from us.

I've been working on not letting myself get distracted by all the great stuff that I want to paint in a piece.  Confession:  mostly I fail at that.   The woods are full of distracting lines and vines and shapes and trees and shadows and I want to put it all in.   All. Of. It.

So in this piece, I was just happy that I managed to focus on just a few interesting lines and shapes around this group of trees and ignore the rest.

More Trees

© Robin Edmundson, 'Trees and Vines', watercolor and ink, 18 x 12 inches.

Framed to 24 x 18 inches.  $450.

There is a group of three sycamore trees just down the way from us.  They're on a creek bank, covered with moss and vines.  I love them. 

After the experimental tree that I shared in my last post, I spent some time thinking about these trees. I painted the piece above thinking mostly about the vines and lines that festoon and crisscross every tree in the woods.  

In the next piece, I focused on the beautiful [and ubiquitous] moss.  Here in southern Indiana, the woods stay damp all year long and the moss thrives.   During the winter months, when the colors of the woods fade to umbers and grays, the moss glows.  

© Robin Edmundson, 'Trees and Moss', watercolor and ink, 18 x 12 inches. 

Framed to 18 x 24 inches.  $450.

The process of working through these tree studies is deeply satisfying.  I can be expressive with my mark making and the lines and I'm learning to let the paint do its thing and work with it instead of trying to control it.

Stay tuned for more.

Impression - Fall Day

©Robin Edmundson, 'Impression - Fall Day', watercolor, 12 x 16 inches. 
Unframed $300

In 1873, Claude Monet painted a sunrise scene that he titled, 'Impression-Sunrise'.  The critics hated it.  It was the painting that gave the Impressionist movement its name.

His painting has always been a favorite of mine.  I love its subtleties.  He didn't try to say it all.  He simplified.  He made mood more important than accuracy. 

I pull up photos of the painting every so often to study his choices.  What he left out.  What he put in.  The colors he didn't use.  The colors he did use.  Where his focal point is.  Where the lines are.  How he communicated space and atmosphere. 

And then I close my eyes and let my mind's eye take me to a scene I've observed recently around here.  I focus on the feeling, the space, the atmosphere.  I exaggerate the colors.  I play with texture. I use a brush in a new way.  I practice the all-powerful Value.

The piece above is the latest one I've been working on.   I painted the initial washes, then let it sit for a few days, then decided how to emphasize the focal points and how to bridge them.  I added texture, then more, then more. 

And I stopped before it was an overworked mess.   I'm still practicing that. 

I could crop it into a square - and it would be beautiful - but it hasn't decided if it wants to be cropped or not and I'm kind of loving the greens on the far right.

I love that I managed to communicate [and then preserve] the impression of the day.  The bright colors, the clear air, the leaves falling.  This is the kind of creative practice that I love.

Catching that Morning Frost of Early Spring

©Robin Edmundson, 'Lyons Barn, Spring Morning', watercolor, 18 x 24 inches. 
Framed 26 x 34 inches. $750

It's a goal of mine to try to capture the light of different times of the year and different times of the day.  I love the way the light plays off the tiny little leaf tips in the trees, off the run-off in the hollows, off the new grass.   In this piece, I was working on that moment when golden morning light rakes across the hills on an early spring day when the frost is still blue in the low spots.

Midwinter Sky & Birds

© Robin Edmundson, 'Midwinter Sky & Birds', watercolor, 18x24 inches. 
Framed to 26x32 inches.  $750.

I've been working with this scene for a while and I realized that what it really wanted was more space, so I worked it up in a larger format. I love it.

Our winter palette is mostly umbers and ochres - until it snows, and for a few days it's hard to tell where the sky stops and the trees and fields begin. Then the trees shake off the snow and clouds and re-establish the boundaries.

There is a stark beauty in a winter day like that, with scraps of earth showing through the snow. On a day like this, there is quiet in the clutter of our woods and farms, with nothing to distract from the ebb and flow of winter birds moving from one field to the next.

I love this about Indiana.

Perspective

This month I've been talking a lot about how to deal with obstacles.  A very useful tool for tackling obstacles is perspective.  A change in perspective allows you to look at things from different vantage points.  Here are three simple ways to practice using perspective.

1. You've heard the expression about not being able to see the forest for the trees.  This is when you're so focused on the details that you forget to take a step back to see the bigger picture.  Maybe things aren't about you. Maybe this obstacle will direct you onto a path that will take you somewhere better. Maybe this delay or hardship really isn't very important in the eternal scheme of things and it's OK to let it go.

2.  Look more closely.  When you're feeling frustrated because nothing is happening!... what if you stepped in for a closer look?  Progress is happening, but it's happening incrementally, like dew forming on the grass.  You just need to give it time.

3. Finally remember that we can rarely see all of something from just one vantage point. Sometimes taking a few steps to the left or right, or walking around to see what's in back is enough to shake something loose in your thinking and give you an idea for how to proceed when you feel stuck.

What are your favorite ways of dealing with obstacles?


I'd like to invite you to join our Best Self facebook group where we can talk freely about becoming our best selves - and all the messy work that entails.  In addition, I have another group, The Well Balanced Artist, for creatives of all kinds and in all stages of their creative lives, who are trying to balance their art, business and personal lives. 

Barrel Roof Barn - Spring

© Robin Edmundson, 'Barrel Roof Barn - Spring', watercolor, 10 x 14 inches.  Framed to 17 x 21 inches.  $375

I don't know about you, but I've been thinking about spring.  And pink blooming trees.  And this barn that lives down the way from us.   I decided to get a head start on the season so here's the first of a series of barns and pink trees.  Watch for more.

The Mailman Always Brings Treats

© Robin Edmundson, 'The mailman always brings treats', watercolor, framed 27 x 33 inches.  $650

Finished!  

I got stuck on this one at one point and put it up for my critique group to look at.  I thought it needed some vultures and I got some great ideas from the group about the birds on the wire, too.  In the end, I did both because when I covered up either set on the transparency I tried it out on first, I missed it.   Plus, I regularly see that many birds hanging out all over the place here, so it felt natural.

It's at the framer now getting all dressed up for the Big Show in August and September.

Fall Grazing

© Robin Edmundson, 'Fall grazing',watercolor, framed 18 x 22 inches.  $350

This one is done.  Thanks to the comments I have a good title for it.   [Thanks, Annie!]

Here is the previous version if you'd like to compare the two.

What a difference a few shadows make!

A Kettle of Vultures

© Robin Edmundson, 'A Kettle of Vultures - Study', watercolor, 10 x 14 inches. 

This was a quick study of the way the light went through the bottoms of some trees in the fields the other day - and a study of a kettle of vultures flying around.   We see these often out here and it's mesmerizing to watch them fly the updrafts.   It's one of our favorite things about living in deep country.  

There are some things I want to correct in the next draft of this piece, but there's something I really love about this study.   I keep coming back to it.  

Is it the light?   The motion of the birds in the sky?   Everyone in the family has had that reaction...there's something compelling in this one.

I'll be working on this idea again.

Double Trees - An exercise in correction

© Robin Edmundson, 'Double trees', watercolor on paper, 9 x 14 inches.

I started this piece a few weeks ago just playing around with a composition of two sets of two trees.  I liked the trees, parts of the sky and some of the colors.  Then I set it aside because I really didn't like the foreground.

Then I took Sue Webb Tregay's 'Master Disaster' workshop in Indianapolis, which taught all the techniques in her fabulous book.   I came back and pulled this painting out and went to work.

I loved the trees the most, so I cropped out some of the sky to make the trees a better focus for the piece.  

The purple in the foreground had been MUCH stronger, so I took a lot of it out and  also some of the French ultramarine along the background fields.  

The bottom had been a weak gold, and I loved the stronger gold in the trees, so I layered on more of the strong gold in the bottom foreground.

It's a much better piece now and I'll be happy to hang it.

March Creek

© Robin Edmundson 'March creek, cloudy day', watercolor, 12 x 9

I'm practicing the whole water thing.   We have a lot of water around here, so I have a lot of reference material.

This piece is almost there.   It needs to sit for a bit and then I need to add more darks in places.

What do you think?   Does the water read well?

Painting for the Trash Can

I read a great piece by Jean Haines recently about painting for the bin.   At the beginning and end of every studio day, she pulls out a scrap piece of paper and just plays.   She knows it's going in the trash anyway, so she feels free to risk it all and just put the paint and water on the paper.   No pressure.

I feel a lot of pressure.   Pressure not to waste time.  Not to waste supplies.  Not to suck.  Pressure to make Great Art.   To make Frame-able Art.  To make Sell-able Art.  Blah, blah, blah. So I was really glad to read that article on painting for the trash can.

And I went out to the studio and pulled out a good piece of paper and just played. I started in one corner and I tried some  new things.   The first one was Awful. [Owl]  The next one not so bad.  [Rose a la Jean Haines].  The next one really cool [Abstract in wild and crazy colors].  The last one was a quasi landscape - my first love is landscapes - with a lot of wet on wet practice.  

I looked at the last one and pulled out a new piece of paper and a big brush that I almost never use - 1" flat.  It's like painting with a wrench.  I had been thinking about the color around here this time of year.  Lots of black eyed susans, iron weed, blue mist flower, and grass, grass, grass.  Lots of clouds in our skies.  Lots of trees because hello this is Indiana.

I started with foreground and painted a field, wet in wet with all the colors I see.  I didn't worry about it being good, I just played with the color and the water.

Then I did the sky.  I love painting clouds.  We've been really looking at clouds this year, noticing how most of the time they look pretty fake.  If I painted clouds that looked like that, people would tell me I need to practice a lot more.  Often lately, someone in the family will message me a pic - Look at these fake clouds!  It's fun.  And it reminds me just to Go For It.    Keep it WET.  Leave some WHITE.  Define later with 2 or 3 more colors.

And then I realized that the sky did not touch the field.   It needed trees.   My heart knew it so it told my brain and my hand to leave some space for it.

My one goal was to make a really interesting tree line, because I've gotten so good at simplifying the shapes that my tree lines are boooring.    And I wanted to keep using that 1" flat because I knew it would be hard to make 'good' trees, which meant I'd have to be creative.

I mixed up a bunch of greens and took a deep breath and dove on in.   And what came out was a really interesting tree line.

In the end this was a very satisfying session because my brain was engaged, but not constrained.  There was low risk and high creativity.   I have enough stuff in my bag of technique tricks that I didn't get really frustrated or stalled.   It was loose without being too abstract.  I looks like a field and trees and sky.  It was fun.   It feels like my voice, finally.   I don't know that I've 'found my style', but I did sing my own song with this one.  It'll be interesting to see if I can catch that flow again soon.

Sycamore Bark

If you've been reading the blog for any length of time, you'll know that I fangirl over trees a lot. 

I am in love with sycamore trees.   They give our southern Indiana woods a very different character from the darker northern oak-filled woods. 

These are the shaggy trunks of younger sycamores. They are maturing, but no longer saplings.   I love that texture.  And those colors.   And the white peeking through. 

Fall Fashion

What the fashionable woodland is wearing this October.

The 'jealous trees in autumn’s chilly nights '
do indeed 'transform their own limbs into fiery brights.'

Redbud Spring

Redbud season is spectacular in this area.   In the late evening light, the colors really glow.

The buds form right on the twigs and as the flowers bloom, they form little stems.

This year, since the winter lasted so long and the spring came late, we've had some beautiful, but very warm weekends crowd in on the season.   That causes the leaves to form on the redbuds before the flowers are quite done blooming.   I like how orange the leaves are when they're new.

Down the way, a redbud came down over the road in a storm during the winter.   Some of the branches were cut off and tossed aside and a couple of them ended up in the creek.   Mother Nature forced the flowers anyway and we noticed this blooming branch resting in the creek.   The cut end is jammed up against the wet embankment and obviously has been getting enough water over the past couple of months to force the blooms.   

Another Fall Color Post

These small ponds are right outside Tulip in Greene County, Indiana.    During the summer, they are often covered with green algae, so it's really nice to see them after a few frosts kill back the algae.  

These tiny ponds sparkle next to the trees this time of year.