Why I Still Carry a Sketchpad Everywhere (Even in the Age of Photoshop)
I’ll admit it—I love Photoshop. I’ve used it for everything from cleaning up
scanned artwork to experimenting with digital textures I could never create
with a brush. But despite all the tools and layers at my disposal, I still find
myself grabbing my battered little sketchpad almost every day.
There’s something different about it. Maybe it's the silence. Maybe it's the
way my hand moves differently on paper than on a tablet. Or maybe it's just how
real it feels.
Don’t get me wrong—technology is amazing. But there’s something irreplaceable
about the feel of a soft pencil on rough paper, the smudge of charcoal on my
fingertips, or the spontaneous scribble that somehow turns into an idea.
I think that’s what I’ve always loved about sketchbooks: there are no rules, no
pressure, and no delete button.
Sketchpads Catch Life in Real Time
A sketchpad is like a portable memory bank. I’ve drawn on trains, in parks, at
cafés, even while waiting in line at the DMV (those pages are mostly annoyed
faces). It’s how I record life—not in a filtered or planned way, but just as it
comes.
One of my favorite spreads is a series of quick gesture sketches of a street
musician in Paris. They’re rough, but they capture the way his shoulders
swayed, the loose grip on the neck of his guitar. I wouldn’t have captured that
detail if I’d waited to "do it later" on the computer.
Digital Feels Final—Paper Feels Free
I’ve noticed that when I open a new Photoshop file, I feel a little pressure.
Maybe it's the blinking cursor, maybe it's the empty canvas. Either way,
there’s this sense that it needs to be good. Finished. Sharable.
But when I open my sketchpad, I don’t feel that weight. It’s just me and the
page. I draw terrible things in there sometimes—wobbly hands, out-of-proportion
heads, inky messes. But I learn something with every scribble.
And that’s the point. The sketchpad is for the process, not the product.
A Sketchpad Doesn’t Need Wi-Fi or Batteries
It’s funny how much we rely on our devices now. I’ve been in situations where
my laptop died, or I lost internet, and suddenly my creative tools were out of
reach. That never happens with a pencil and a pad.
There’s something comforting about knowing I can create anywhere, anytime. All
I need is a little light and a little focus.
I’m Not Against Digital—They Work Together
Some people think it has to be one or the other. Traditional or digital. But I
don’t see it that way.
In fact, my best work usually starts in my sketchpad and ends up on my screen.
I sketch characters, thumbnails, even lettering layouts on paper first. There’s
a looseness that paper allows, and I carry that freedom into my digital work.
To me, it’s like cooking from scratch before you plate it. Paper is the
kitchen. Photoshop is the presentation.
It’s the Closest Thing I Have to a Visual Diary
I can flip through old sketchpads and immediately remember what I was going
through when I drew a certain page. The shaky lines during a breakup. The
explosion of color tests during a period of restlessness. The tiny ink drawings
from a boring office job where I doodled under the desk.
None of that lives in a PSD file. It lives in the wear and tear, the curled
pages, the fingerprints.
Final Thoughts from My Desk Today
So yeah, I carry my sketchpad everywhere. Even though my phone could do a
thousand things more efficiently. Even though I have software that can make
anything look perfect. 
But perfect isn’t the goal. Honest is. Messy is. Real is.
If you’re an artist—or just someone who likes to think with their hands—I
highly recommend dusting off your old sketchbook and starting again. Not to
impress anyone. Just to feel what it’s like to create without pressure.
You don’t have to post it. You don’t have to finish it. You just have to begin.