Pear Charcoal Drawing
E.m. Helf
On a Pear Charcoal Drawing
the exercise of drawing a photo of a pear
This is a pear I drew the other day. The studio was super busy, and it was interesting to feel how I draw with people around me versus by myself or with fewer people. It definitely makes a difference in how I draw and how my line works. I just prefer the quiet. I can be more in tune with the tool I am using, which brings me to my thoughts on charcoal and life and how they aren’t so different.
I was using an HB charcoal pencil, and for those who haven’t used them, charcoal is a messy, burned-up piece of wood shoved into another piece of wood so it can be sharpened down and used to make marks on paper. I hope something interesting appears at the end, as proof that a hand had something worth communicating.
Charcoal is messy, and it is sometimes very delicate depending on the type of pencil used, but it is also hard to control. The second I put it to the paper, the mark is there, and it is dark. The line is still soft; it records every movement across the page. It also erases, but only for so long, until the paper gets worn down to the point where erasing becomes a weakness, not a strength, so I have to choose my battles about what stays and what goes as I set up the line work. I can also “burn” my paper by making too many marks in the same spot; mixed with erasing, both can degrade the surface of the paper, so there is only so much room to make it all work.
My life has been a lot like working with charcoal–messy, delicate, with decisions that are sometimes overthought and sometimes made too quickly. I’ve tried backtracking by erasing, but in life charcoal marks don’t fully disappear. They stay as memories, as proof that I acted.
Staying too long in certain roles has cost me, and something similar almost happened in this drawing. The dark band in the middle of the pear came right to the edge of being burned. I almost lost it. I still think I kind of did. That’s when I stopped, took a breath, and walked away, deciding it was what it was.
