The grayscale face

I sharpened the pencil. Papermate HB. Will do.

It's been a long time since I last drew. Almost as long as I last posted on my blog. So I decided to dig in a milestone for both together.

I turned the pages of the book, admiring my beloved sketches, till I reached the first empty sheet. I knew what it was going to be; had known it whole morning.

I poked the fibrous paper with my pencil. That was my 'dot the eye' step. I have always started with eyes. These were special; dark, beautiful, tender and complacent. I put in the eyebrows. I had to do it carefully, preserving the delicate emotions. This wasn't easy, because I face tremendous troubles getting the features right in the first place. There was a lot of rubbing, sketching, spreading before I got it right. I wasn't fully satisfied with my work. I knew I would never be, because I can never get these eyes right, more because I know them so well.

I moved down, to the nose. On another occasion this task would have terrified me, but luckily, the shadows the evening window created made the outline easier. The pencil caressed the paper, delicately sketching out the shadows. The pencil did the work, as I watched the graphite on the paper fondly.

Postponing the mouth, I decided to sketch the outline first. This didn't take long, as the pencil was eager to touch the lips.

The lips then. The mouth was curved into a pleasant smile. It's one of the most soothing curves I have ever seen. I let my tool do the work. It created the smile out of three cheek to cheek curves. I was really pleased with the work. Soon there were three more on my face.

The pencil then moved towards the cheek, to puff them up. It made shadows that made the cheeks obvious. It then dug indentations through the fiber to create the dimples. Things were now starting to look 3-D.

I caressed the chin once more with my pencil, to make it smooth, knowing it would never match the real.

That left me with just the hair. I loved these; their darkness, their waviness. I let them flow down like a stream from the graphite source, preserving their shine in the black and white. I let the pencil swim down them, attempting all strokes till I could stand the envy no more.

After a few finishing touches, I signed my name and wrote the date, as always.

I then lay back to look at the sketch from a distance, and blinked.

It was so lovely, that I wanted to be graphite myself.