I love sketches. I always prefer my sketches to my coloured pieces, so here’s a couple of recent ones I’m particularly proud of.
If I could get away with it, everything I make would be a sketch, but there’s this stigma toward sketches, this false belief that they’re all unfinished and thus unworthy of praise.
Sketches aren’t just a stepping stone to “proper” art, they’re the very first contact with an artist’s vision, the first time an artist brings their hand to the paper and the picture in their head becomes manifest.
And I find that beautiful, to see an image form from nothing is to watch creativity at work, the rest, to me, is just window dressing.
I don’t purport to speak for all artists, I know for a fact there are those who adore painting, mixing hues like some wonderful scientist poring over his magnum opus, but as someone obsessed with lineart, as I expect any comic penciller would agree, sketches are the reason I love to draw.