Here's something people are always surprised to hear: every single piece of work I make starts with a pencil drawing. Every illustration, every print, every commission — it all begins with graphite on paper.
So yeah, I have opinions about pencils.
And here's the thing nobody tells you when you're starting out — the pencil you pick up can completely change the way you draw. Not just what the marks look like, but how you *feel* making them. How brave you are. How loose. Whether you're enjoying yourself or quietly fighting the paper. Well, I feel like it does anyway.
Let me show you what I mean.
The ones that changed everything: Koh-I-Noor
This is where it started for me. Someone handed me one of these and it genuinely shifted how I approach drawing.
It's a fat, chunky stick of pure graphite. No wood casing. No delicate tip. Just a solid block of the good stuff. And the magic is that you physically *cannot* be precious with it. There's no fine point to fuss over, no hairline detail to obsess about. When you pick up something this chunky, your whole body relaxes. You start thinking in big, bold gestures. You commit to marks. You loosen up — because the tool basically demands it.
For me, as someone who draws inspiration from everything from buildings to nature, comic books to mid-century design, that looseness is where the energy lives. And I'd been locking it out by being too careful.
If you liked the sound of the graphite stick, meet its slightly more refined cousin. The Hardtmuth 1820 in 2B is another chunky one — and it does the same beautiful thing of helping you chill out and stop being precious.
There's something about holding a pencil with that kind of weight and width that just tells your brain: *relax, this isn't about perfection, this is about drawing.* I reach for this one all the time. If you tend to grip your pencil too tight and hunch over your sketchbook like you're defusing a bomb — try this. It's like a deep breath in pencil form.
The one I properly love:
Right, I'm going to try not to gush too much here, but Blackwing pencils are something special.
The graphite is incredibly smooth — it just *glides*. There's no scratchiness, no resistance, just this beautiful, buttery line that makes you want to keep drawing. They're the kind of pencil where you pick one up and immediately think, "Oh, THIS is what a pencil is supposed to feel like."
They're not cheap, I'll be honest. But if you're someone whose work starts with pencil (like mine does, every single time), investing in something that feels this good in your hand is absolutely worth it. They make the drawing part of the process a genuine pleasure rather than just a step you're getting through. I don't know if it's a neurodivergent thing or what, but I can't stand pencils that have any kind of scratch or snag on the paper — they make me feel sick. Yeah, it's strange, but you don't get that with a Blackwing.
The trusty everyday: a good old school pencil
You know the ones — black and yellow, classic school pencils. Nothing fancy. Nothing special. And honestly? I love them.
I've got quite a few knocking about and they're brilliant for out and about. Chuck one in your bag, pull it out on the train or in a cafe, and just draw. There's no preciousness about them (you won't cry if you lose one), the quality is surprisingly decent, and there's something comforting about using something so familiar and unpretentious.
Not every pencil needs to be a big investment. Sometimes the best pencil is just the one you've got with you.
The honest bit: the ones that aren't for me
In the spirit of only recommending things I actually like — those cheap yellow pencils with the rubber on the top? Not for me.
And it's not even about the quality of the mark, really. It's the *noise*. That scratchy, gritty sound they make on paper genuinely makes my skin crawl. It's like nails on a chalkboard but for artists. If you know, you know.
I'm not saying they're bad pencils — plenty of people get on fine with them. But for me, if a tool is making a noise that scratches my brain while I'm trying to get into a creative flow, it's going in the bin. Life's too short for pencils that set your teeth on edge.
But you've got to have some colour: the non-pencil essentials
OK, I know this post is supposed to be about pencils. But a sketchbook without colour in it? That's just sad.
So here are two things that live permanently in my studio and sneak into almost every sketchbook I own.
Sennelier Fluorescent Oil Pastels
These are absolutely ridiculous and I mean that as the highest compliment. Six fluorescent colours that are so bright, so punchy, so unapologetically *loud* that they make you grin every time you open the box.
Sennelier oil pastels are beautifully creamy — "très onctueux" as the box says, which basically means incredibly smooth and buttery. They layer like a dream and the fluorescent set takes that up a notch by adding colours that practically vibrate off the page. I use them to add flashes of electric colour to pencil sketches, and the contrast between soft graphite and screaming neon pink is genuinely thrilling.
They're artist quality too — this isn't kids' stuff. These are proper pigments that happen to glow.
Caran d'Ache Neocolor II Aquarelle
If the Sennelier pastels are the wild night out, the Neocolor IIs are the classy dinner party. Swiss-made water-soluble wax pastels that come in this gorgeous red tin that makes you feel like a proper artist just opening it.
What I love about these is their versatility. Use them dry and you get rich, intense colour. Add water with a brush, and they transform into something almost like watercolour — smooth washes that blend beautifully. You can go from bold, graphic marks to soft, painterly effects with the same stick.
The colour range is stunning — deep ultramarines, punchy vermilions, that turquoise blue that makes everything look better. And because they're wax-based, they work brilliantly over pencil drawings without smudging the graphite underneath.
They're an investment, but the tin will last you ages, and every single colour earns its place.
Why materials matter more than you think
I think there's a myth that good artists can work with anything. And sure, there's some truth in that — but it misses the point entirely. The materials you choose don't just affect what your work *looks* like. They affect how you *feel* while you're making it.
A scratchy pencil that fights you on every stroke? That's going to make you tense up. A smooth, responsive tool that glides where you want it to go? That's going to help you relax into the work.
And relaxed, confident marks almost always look better than tight, anxious ones. Every single time.
It's like the difference between cooking with a sharp knife and a blunt one — technically you can chop an onion with either, but one of them is going to make you enjoy the process a whole lot more.
The bigger lesson
Here's what all these pencils have taught me: sometimes the most important thing a tool can do isn't help you draw *better* — it's help you draw *braver*.
We spend so much time worrying about technique, precision, getting things "right." But the work that connects with people — the work that has soul — usually comes from a place of freedom and play.
So if you've been feeling stuck, or precious, or like your work has lost its spark — maybe you don't need a new skill. Maybe you just need a different pencil.
My top picks:
Sennelier Fluorescent Oil Pastels
Caran d'Ache Neocolor II Aquarelle
*This post contains affiliate links — if you buy through them, I earn a small commission at no extra cost to you. I only ever recommend things I genuinely use and love.*
