(Literally) Back to the Drawing Board
I've been working on the iPad for a few years now, but recently redscovered the joy of pencils and paper.
I’ve been working almost exclusively digitally for about five years now. My first two graphic novels were done completely on the iPad from rough sketches through the inking and drawing stages. I got addicted to the two fingered tap to instantly erase mistakes and how quickly I could work. The Apple Pencil was a godsend: I could instantly mimic any tool I had used before without all the mess. With tight publishing deadlines, it was a great way to work.
However, in the process I almost completely lost my ability to work on paper. Sometimes I would try to solve a problem in a sketchbook only to find out that my ability to work that way was gone. I tightened up, knowing that working on paper was difficult to revise. I had also given away my large drawing table because I didn’t need it anymore. My sketchbooks languished in the basement as I continued to embrace digital creation.
But a funny thing happened. A few months ago I started to get into plein air sketching, and brought my sketchbook and pencils with me into the outdoors. And when I started teaching kids’ art classes with no technology readily available, I started to draw on paper again with markers and pencils to do demonstrations for the students. I did some artwork I was proud of in those classes and remembered how much I liked working that way.
For one thing, paper and pencil is a much more sensory experience. You can small the aromatic cedar and the graphite and eraser shavings. As a lefty, I inevitably get gray smears on the bottom of my hand. There’s also the quiet skritch of pencil on paper. The iPad has a quieter and less messy experience, but one that isn’t sensory.
I also love being able to look at a whole page. I’m working larger that the finished size, and I can alway see what the whole thing looks like, as opposed to the iPad where I have to deliberately zoom completely out to see it all, and it’s frustratingly small. Now, it feels like I’m working on a comics page again instead of working on individual panels. I can zip from spot to spot, working here and there, to make sure the page works as a composition and my characters are consistent.
Of course there’s something nice about getting off of screens and technology too. In the past I have taken my iPad and drawing stand with my to my family’s Adirondack cabin to work, but this time I only worked in my sketchbook, and there was something satisfying about working in the woods on paper as people have done for years.
I’m still going to do my inks and colors digitally because it does seem like a better way to work for that. Although I’m quite good with a brush, you can’t beat the iPad for effortlessness and editing.
Once I returned from the Adirondacks I bought a new drawing table (funny how things start appearing in your feed when you start thinking about them!) I had always wanted a compact one instead of a drafting table, and I found a great one at Amazon:
I should also mention that I’ve always liked pencils, and spend a decent amount of time geeking out about them (I also grade papers in pencil). I read a recent NYT article about the best wooden pencils (no mechanical pencils, please!) and had to try the top pencil, the Golden Bear USA #2 pencils and agree that it is slightly better than the Ticonderogas I usually favor. The Tikes have a nice grittiness to them that grabs the paper nicely, but the Golden Bear is softer and better for sketching. I have a pack of Blackwing 602s on the way too—review forthcoming.
I am also fairly certain that I’m going to crowdfund this new graphic novel. If any of you have had any experience with this (or have a live Kickstarter right now) let me know!
Thanks for sharing David. Greetings from another left-hander — sharing the joys of smudged papers (sigh)
I’ve been thinking long and hard about this lately, as all my workflow turned entirely digital years ago. For comics / GNs, I still produce my thumbnails and initial exploration sketches on paper, but that’s about it. And then there’s this: you become hopelessly addicted to Undo. To be able to move and scale things to your heart’s content and without any fuss. And all of that is so great and convenient and, when you’re racing deadlines and sudden change requests, necessary even. But in the midst of it all something got lost, where the craft process ended up feeling like a chore and less like active meditation, the way we connected with making art in our younger years. Screens impose a “office work” mode (my perception, ymmv) that is incompatible with the serendipity of painting, say, a watercolor — a medium I’ve always loved. Considering, time permitting, to jump in on the Inktober bandwagon this year, if only to force myself to touch some actual paper and ink and regain some of that spirit. :)
Hey, David -- Fellow lefty here. I had only a few minutes, so I skimmed your post (I will return to it later) and my first thought about pencils is that you MUST have Blackwings in your kit, or soon will. You might enjoy my post about those sacred sticks. https://frankmarianidesign.substack.com/p/more-pencil-love