The longer I look at still-life objects, the more beautiful they become. By concentrating on them, I find that the objects become transformed and take on an almost spiritual quality, a significance beyond their apparent value. An apple or a flower can become a kind of holy relic. Flaws become perfection. By making colored-pencil still lifes, I try to convey that beauty.



The longer I look at the objects, the quieter and more still I become. As I continue to observe the setup, I finally become as quiet as the still lifes themselves. It is this experience--the concentrated and deliberate act of looking--that I want the drawings to evoke from viewers. I want viewers to find themselves looking at the still lifes in the same way that I do when I'm making the drawings.

The medium of colored pencil has always been used in illustration, but, like watercolor, it has been slow to gain credibility as a fine-art medium. I feel colored pencils offer many distinct qualities, although completing a piece with them often requires a great deal of time. My drawings are not executed quickly; many take up to a month or more to complete, especially the largest and most complex pieces.

I prefer using colored pencils because I enjoy the precise control one gets from a point that is both sharp and dry. Colored pencils are extremely easy to manipulate. This is important for my work, which is highly realistic and often depicts very intricate subjects such as lace.

I always work from photographs. Otherwise, the flowers would be long dead and the fruit would be withered by the time I was finished making a drawing. Also, I'm very fond of using an overhead point of view, which would be difficult to do without a photograph. I arrange a still life, take a picture of it, dismantle the still life, and then work from the photograph. I always keep the nonperishable objects handy for reference while I'm working.

Another reason I work with photographs is that they allow me to record light, which plays a prominent role in my work. I know there is only one moment when the objects and the light exist as they will appear in the finished drawing, and I can preserve it with a camera. I use light to enhance the sense of quiet in the still life. At the same time, I love the way light and shadow ripple across my still-life arrangements and I want the drawings to capture a sense of the light's movement.

I work in four steps. The first step involves making a sketch. This is the most personal part of the process, since it establishes my own perception of the subject. I use a hard No. 3 graphite pencil because it is very precise and erases easily.

I work on Strathmore four-ply, plate-finish Bristol board, which has a glossy, smooth surface. I like the surface because it has just enough tooth to take the colored pencils but maintain a glassy, reflective surface. That surface allows as much of a rich, lush finish as colored pencil can give while still becoming saturated very quickly. When seen up close, the surface of a finished drawing is as deep and luxurious as that of an oil painting.

The first step is completed relatively quickly, usually taking no more than a few days, depending on how complicated the setup is. I arrange everything on the paper just as it will appear in the final drawing. Even though I work quickly, I make the sketch very carefully. Once I begin layering colored pencils, making changes isn't easy. Colored pencils don't erase very well.

In step two, I move from graphite to black and white Berol Prismacolor pencils. I use three colors: black, medium gray, and light gray. The black-and-white drawing serves as a kind of underpainting. This is probably the most important step because it's the step in which I determine values. Many times a colored pencil will have the hue I need but not the correct value. In other words, I might have the right color, but I'd like it to be darker. Therefore, I have to work out all the values during the second step, before I begin applying the colors.

For instance, if I want a dark blue-green, I might have a pencil that has the right amount of blue-green but is too light, so I'll put dark gray or black pencil on the paper first and then layer green pencil over that. I build the darks carefully because it's difficult to lighten an area later, and too much black pencil underneath can make the drawing look muddy.

In the third step, I layer all the colors. The colored-pencil medium is different from oil paint or watercolor because with pencil you have to mix color on the paper rather than on the palette. I use Berol Prismacolors, and I have in my palette all the colors Berol makes. But even with one hundred twenty colors available, I often mix colors to create new ones, layering up to six different hues before I'm satisfied.

After I'm completely happy with the values and colors a in section, I begin the final step. I draw over the section again, pressing very firmly with a white pencil. This burnishes the drawing, completely obliterating the paper texture. By burnishing in this manner, I encourage the colors to melt together. The colors become very liquid from the pressure and waxiness. This seems to release the pigment, and give the drawing's surface a deep, luminous, finished look.

When burnishing very dark areas, I find I get better results with colors other than white. For the dark wood tones in the background of Mixed Bouquet, I used a terra cotta or vermilion pencil. For the lighter wood tones, I used a cream pencil. With so much pencil already on the paper, these pencils don't add a lot of color, but they do add a little bit of warmth. And these colors will darken the darks further, while a white pencil might lighten or gray a very richly colored section.

I often work on a drawing in sections, moving from the background to the foreground or from the outside in. This isn't necessary; it's just my personal approach. I break the drawing down into layers of depth, starting with the lowest, most distant layer and then building everything up on that. In Mixed Bouquet, for instance, I began by drawing the background and finished with the flowers, which were closest to me.

Prismacolor pencils are rather waxy and don't tent to smudge, so starting with the background usually doesn't create a problem in terms of keeping the drawing neat. Also, I rest my hand on another piece of paper while I'm working to protect the surface a little more. If necessary, I can always clean up the edges with an ArtGum eraser.

Talent is only one small part of being an artist; it's involvement that's important. Like other artists, I find that I get a sense of well-being and self-esteem from immersing myself in the process of making art. One must love the process, not just the product. And the process of creating is a process of self-creation and constant self-discovery. I am now able to devote myself full-time to my work. As a result, I wake up in the morning excited about facing each new day.

STEP 1. First, I make a sketch using a hard No. 3 graphite pencil, which I like because it is very precise and erases easily. I work on Strathmore four-ply, plate-finish Bristol board. This is a smooth paper with very little tooth. The sketch is done quickly, usually taking no more than a few days. THis is my last chance to make major changes in the composition.

STEP 2. I begin building up layers of value with black and white colored pencils. I use black, medium gray, and light gray. This serves as an underpainting for the drawing, since darker colors and values must be created on the paper when working with colored pencils.

STEP 3. In this step, I begin layering color over the black-and-white drawing. I often layer many different colors to achieve subtle variations. I control the intensity of hue by varying the pressure with which it is applied.

STEP 4. After I'm completely satisfied with the value and color in a particular section, I go over it again, pressing very firmly with a white pencil and burnishing to completely obliterate the paper texture.