Sketching in Pen

When I started drawing, I began with a pencil just like everyone else. The books suggested it, the online tutorials showed most teachers using them, and the options were varied. From a basic #2 yellow to a Bic mechanical, to the fancy graphite master set by Faber Castell…I’ve seen them all. I settled on the Pentel Graph Gear 1000 .05 because that’s what I had in my drawer, and its weight made it feel substantial. Thus, by my nonsensical calculation, it must be more professional. 

Following the pencil sketch, I would trace the composition with a black fine liner pen (Microns are my go-to), then erase all the pencil marks. It only took a few unfortunate sessions to realize the common pink rectangle eraser ruins the surface of watercolor paper. Hello Faber-Castell kneadable art eraser…a watercolorist’s bestie for removing graphite without rubbing and therefore leaves minimal damage to the canvas. Seriously, push pause on reading and order one right here.

This system worked for me. Until it didn’t.

Misplaced focus

I was spending way too much time perfecting my pencil sketch, unnecessarily focusing on precision during the draft phase. I used the kneadable eraser as a crutch and was struggling to commit to and accept my lines as interpretive of my subject.

The result was a compromised and messy canvas that lacked the integrity required to add watercolor paint. My art was missing the complexity and structure I was striving for. With this came self-doubt and criticism. I realized using pencil encouraged chasing unreasonable perfection when drawing a subject, knowing an eraser was at the ready. But with pen in hand, I saw a glimmer of confidence appear, recognizing I had created an artistic style all my own. Wobbly edges, uneven borders, and slightly askew perspectives were finally accepted, if not praised.

Ultimately, I preferred the fine black lines and considered them to be necessary ‘boundaries’ for my painting. While watercolors are supposed to bleed together, often explained as ‘the beauty of that kind of paint,’ I felt my colors needed a little breathing room from each other.

To know me is to know I prefer my salad in a separate bowl, where dressing and dribbles are contained and won’t accidentally ‘contaminate’ the rest of my meal. The desire for boundaries in watercolor naturally follows my appreciation for borders in most things.

 A 31-day commitment

As my watercolor art progressed, so did my drawing abilities. In 2021, I committed to “One-a-Day-in-May,” a personal challenge hosted by Cami Monet on Instagram. The rules were simple: do one thing every day during the month of May. I decided on drawing one flower a day from my Grandma Opal’s Fieldbook of Western Wild Flowers. It was a gift from Grandpa Alvin in 1955 with the inscription, “To Opal, a wildflower. Alvin.” It was a book I had thumbed through often for inspiration. My goal was to use black pen only (no pencil or eraser), as a way to commit myself to each line, bend, curve, and overall presentation of shadows and shapes seen in these flowers. 

My plan was to study my subject with intention…focus on which leaf was in front of the stem, and which petal was facing away from view. Perhaps this plan was going to strain my eyes and persuade my pen to take an uncertain lead. But with a hot cup of coffee, black pen in hand, and the slightly worn pages of Grandpa Opal’s Fieldbook, my daily 6:00am sessions allowed for no judgment and no disposal of paper.

Thirty-one days.
Thirty-one flowers.
Thirty-one one-hour sessions.

In that completed challenge I discovered my style. Now I sketch in pen only and in wholehearted agreement with the German artist Paul Klee: “Drawing is the art of taking a line for a walk.”

PROTEA FLOWER
It starts with the inspirational picture followed by the pen sketch and finally the addition of watercolor paint.