Everyone knows the flowers. Huge, zoomed-in, somewhat controversial irises and poppies. Or the bleached cattle skulls hovering over the New Mexico desert. But honestly? If you want to see where Georgia O’Keeffe actually found her soul as an artist, you have to look at the paper. Specifically, the georgia o'keeffe watercolor paintings she produced during a frantic, "reckless" burst of energy between 1916 and 1918.
Most of these weren't meant for museum walls. Not at first.
At the time, O’Keeffe was teaching art in Canyon, Texas. She was isolated. She was lonely. She was basically writing visual letters to her friend Anita Pollitzer and the gallery owner (and later husband) Alfred Stieglitz. These watercolors are messy, raw, and surprisingly modern—even by today's standards. They aren't the polished, smooth oil paintings that made her a household name. They are something much more visceral.
👉 See also: The Real Story Behind Verdict Lounge and Restaurant Photos and Why the Vibe Works
The Texas Years: A "Reckless" Foot of Paper
When O’Keeffe moved to Texas, she underwent a radical shift. She stopped trying to paint like her teachers. She dumped the academic "rules" she’d learned at the Art Students League. Instead, she bought stacks of cheap, student-grade paper.
She once told Stieglitz that having a stack of paper "almost a foot tall" made her feel "downright reckless."
That recklessness is all over the work. In paintings like Train at Night in the Desert (1916), she isn't trying to capture the literal details of a locomotive. It's a dark, moody smudge of blue and black. You can almost feel the vibration of the engine and the vast, empty cold of the Texas panhandle.
✨ Don't miss: Why the Barb Wire Arm Tattoo Still Refuses to Die
She wasn't painting things. She was painting how those things felt.
- Light Coming on the Plains (1917): This series is just incredible. It’s basically just three or four washes of blue and yellow. It’s barely a landscape, yet it captures the exact moment the sun hits the horizon.
- The Nude Series (1917): These are surprisingly intimate. She used herself as a model, using "wet-on-wet" techniques where the paint bleeds into the paper, creating soft, blurred edges that feel like skin.
- Evening Star (1917): Probably her most famous watercolor sequence. The star is a tiny point of white paper left unpainted, surrounded by swirling, psychedelic circles of crimson and yellow.
It’s easy to forget how radical this was. In 1917, most American artists were still trying to copy European Impressionism. O’Keeffe was in the middle of nowhere, painting "nothing" but light and air.
What Most People Get Wrong About Her Technique
There’s this idea that O’Keeffe was a perfectionist who never made a mistake. While that might be true for her later oils—where she’d mix 20 different shades of white just to get a petal right—her watercolors were about the "happy accident."
She used a lot of Japanese gampi paper. It’s super thin and reactive. When water hits it, the paper wrinkles and "cockles." Most artists would hate that. O’Keeffe loved it. She let the paper move. She let the colors pool in the low spots.
She wasn't just "painting a picture." She was collaborating with the water.
💡 You might also like: Christmas Nails with Bows: Why This Coquette Aesthetic is Taking Over the Holidays
Why she stopped (mostly)
By the late 1920s, the georgia o'keeffe watercolor paintings started to disappear from her portfolio. Why? Honestly, she wanted more control.
Watercolor is a nightmare to preserve. It fades in the light. It's fragile. As she became more famous and her work started selling for higher prices, she transitioned to oils and pastels. She needed the permanence. She also wanted that smooth, "licked" surface where you can't see a single brushstroke. You can't really do that with watercolor; the medium always leaves a trace of the hand.
But even in her 70s, she went back to it. In 1965, she did a series of watercolors inspired by looking out of airplane windows. Sky Above Clouds started as small, fluid sketches on paper before they became the massive, garage-sized oil paintings you see in the Art Institute of Chicago today.
Seeing the Work Today: A Rare Treat
You can't just go to a museum and see these on display 365 days a year. Because they are on paper, they are incredibly sensitive to light. Museums like MoMA or the Georgia O’Keeffe Museum in Santa Fe usually keep them in "dark storage" for years at a time.
When they do come out for an exhibition—like the "To See Takes Time" show at MoMA—it’s a big deal.
If you get the chance to see one in person, look at the edges. You’ll see where the water pooled at the end of a brushstroke. You’ll see the texture of the paper. It’s the closest you’ll ever get to seeing Georgia O’Keeffe’s mind actually at work. No filters, no "polished" finish. Just raw emotion on a cheap piece of paper.
Actionable Insights for Art Lovers
If you want to understand O'Keeffe beyond the calendars and coffee mug prints, start with her early 1916-1918 period.
- Check the Archives Online: Since these works are rarely on view, use the Georgia O’Keeffe Museum’s digital "Collections Online." Search specifically for "watercolor" and filter by date (1916-1918).
- Look for the "Special" Drawings: She labeled her most experimental works as "Specials." These often bridge the gap between her charcoal drawings and her watercolors.
- Try the "Wet-on-Wet" Method: If you’re a hobbyist, try her Texas technique. Soak the paper first. Squeeze paint directly from the tube. Don’t try to draw a shape—try to draw a feeling.
- Visit the "Canyon" Works: If you find yourself in West Texas, visit the Amarillo Museum of Art. They hold some of the original works from her time teaching at West Texas State Normal College.
The real Georgia O’Keeffe isn't just in the flowers. She’s in the blurred horizon of a Texas sunset, captured in a few quick strokes of blue paint before the water dried.