Why I Love Charcoal Drawing

When I was a kid, I avoided the charcoal sticks that came in my drawing sets. They felt weird, messy, and unfamiliar. I’d give them a shot now and then, but in my young, stubborn brain, I was convinced that color and paint were the only real art forms that mattered.

Fast forward to 2005, when I walked into my Studio Drawing class at East Central College, and everything changed. I didn’t just learn to love charcoal—I realized I was made for it. I just needed someone to show me the way. That click happened with subtractive drawing. Suddenly, it all made sense. I started to approach charcoal the same way I approached my photography: through dramatic contrasts, deep shadows, and bright highlights. It’s funny how things connect across mediums like that.

But the real magic? Charcoal is forgiving. You can push it, mold it, erase it, and almost paint with it. The delicate values between light and dark tell the story—whether it’s an apple, a road, a landscape, or a face. The absence of color strips everything down to the raw feeling. Charcoal taught me that I could make a piece of art that’s not just sitting there waiting to be admired—it’s looking back at you.

Charcoal: My Creative Breathing Space

Working with charcoal feels like taking a deep breath after sprinting. It’s my resting point, my place to pause. It’s where I can gather my thoughts, form ideas, and just… be. Acrylic and I get along fine, but it’s not like charcoal. When I’m drawing with charcoal, it feels like an extension of my hand. With paint, it’s just me and a brush—there’s a layer of separation that charcoal doesn’t have.

What I Love to Draw

I’m drawn to faces—quiet, introspective moments where a person isn’t even looking at the viewer. I love still lifes, too, and finding ways to make them speak in a way a photograph just can’t. There’s something about the simplicity of black, white, and gray that lets the subject breathe and connect in a deeper way.

The Look, the Feel, the Texture

I’m all about smoother papers. Papers with too much tooth? They grip onto the charcoal like they’re never letting go, which is a nightmare when I need to erase or manipulate the image. I like the freedom to push and pull the charcoal around, to shape it exactly how I want.

Personal Connections: Drawing Through the Hard Stuff

Every charcoal piece feels more personal than the last. The past two years? They’ve been some of the hardest. I’ve felt bound and gagged, unable to express the emotional chaos happening around me. But charcoal has been my outlet. It’s where I channel those emotions, turning negative, heavy thoughts into something beautiful. The loud protests in my head quiet down into soft grays on paper—but those grays still grab the viewer and pull them in.

Embracing the Mess

Let’s be real: charcoal is messy. It ends up on my hands, my face, my clothes—sometimes even in my hair. And I’m here for it. The mess is part of the process. It means I was doing something I love. I don’t necessarily enjoy the control of shading, but I love seeing the image take shape—the outcome is what pulls me in.

How Charcoal Fits Into My Artistic Journey

At the end of the day, my art is about expressiveness. That’s my whole game. Charcoal lets me dive into that space without overthinking it. It’s direct, raw, and honest.

Tips for Beginners

If you’re just getting started with charcoal, here’s my advice:

• Learn subtractive drawing. Start with a dark surface and pull the light out of it.

• See your subject in a grid. It helps with proportions and keeping your composition balanced.

• Trace the lines in the air. Seriously—move your hand along the contours of your subject before you even touch the paper. It trains your muscles to remember those movements so when your charcoal hits the page, it flows naturally.

Charcoal gives me space to breathe, to express, and to create in a way no other medium does. It’s been my companion through quiet moments and emotional storms, and it’s the one tool that feels like it truly belongs in my hands. And that’s why I love it.