My Favorite Art Supplies
What faithful tools have taught me about drawing, practice, and trust
I began to notice that certain tools were quietly shaping my way of working. A simple pencil that allowed for greater expression and ease. The same sketchbooks traveling with me from place to place. Over time, I realized I hadn’t just developed preferences — I had developed relationships. These items became the contexts in which I create: deceptively simple, sweetly ordinary, and deeply personal.
In this post, I’ll be sharing a handful of favorite art supplies. This isn’t a shopping guide or a roundup of recommendations. Rather, it’s an introduction to the relationships I’ve formed with the tools of my craft. Think of it as an opportunity to consider your own faithful tools, the ones you return to again and again, and how they quietly shape your creativity.
If there’s an invitation here, it’s not to acquire anything new, but to notice what has already stayed with you.
Mitsu-Bishi 9852EW HB “Master Writing”
An humble, beautifully made pencil that feels at home in the hand.
I bought a dozen of these pencils when I was preparing to teach a drawing class. I wanted a simple drawing tool for my students but something a little different from an ordinary pencil. Since Blackwings are so expensive, I chose these Mitsu-Bishi pencils. When they arrived, I was immediately attracted to the look and feel of them: natural wood, crisp green lettering, copper-toned ferrule and black eraser. I quickly discovered that this pencil formed a quiet partnership with my hand. The simplicity and pleasurable handling of this “writing” instrument has become a treasured source of expressive lines and buttery shading.
Noodler’s Ink “Charlie” fountain pen
A simple fountain pen that makes room for awkwardness and warmth.
I don’t remember which artist first mentioned Noodler’s Ink but shortly after I bought my first bottle, I dropped it, sending glass and ink in all directions. The spectacular mess lead to another purchase, this time with a “free pen.” I keep “Charlie” filled with Noodler’s Polar Brown ink, which produces warm, earthy lines. Sketching with this pen has taught me to be patient with mistakes and less self-conscious with awkward drawings. Some people complain about the scent of these pens but after hours of drawing, I find it comforting.
Pentel RSVP fine ballpoint in black
A dependable ballpoint that says yes to playful mark-making.
Back when I did lots of handwritten journaling, I used Pentel R.S.V.P. pens because their rubber grip felt stable and solid. When I started sketching in ballpoint, I rediscovered these pens and fell in love with the reliable flow and variable lines. R.S.V.P. is short for respondez, s’il vous plaît, a formal request for a reply to an invitation. This pen invites me to sketch with freedom and joy. My reply: avec plaisir!
Moleskine Cahier
More of a collaborator than a sketchbook.
When I started trying to learn how to draw birds, I used plain copy paper. After a few weeks, I got tired of keeping up with loose sheets and started looking for a sketchbook. The Moleskine Cahier was just right: nicely sized, smooth surface, but not so precious as to feel intimidating. The saddle-stitched binding gives a touch of elegance to the unassuming kraft-paper cover. But this is not a sketchbook for sketchbook tours. It’s where the hidden work of growth happens.
Pentalic Traveler
Where individual drawings journey toward a whole.
About halfway through my first Pentalic Traveler sketchbook, my work was accepted for a show. With a short deadline, I cut my drawings out of the sketchbook and put the unfinished volume on a shelf. Years later, I rediscovered it and found the silky smooth pages were just right for ink. Where the Cahier sketchbooks shine for experimentation, the Traveler holds more carefully rendered drawings. This is where my body of work forms.
When I consider these five items, I see how they’ve shaped me as an artist. Each one, in its own way, has gently carried me forward. There’s nothing special about them. Perhaps that’s their secret. Through simplicity and familiarity, they make room for ease and over time, that ease has grown into loyalty.
If there’s an invitation here, it’s not to acquire anything new, but to notice what has already stayed with you. The tools you return to again and again may be doing quiet, faithful work — forming your hand, your eye, and your patience — even when the progress feels unseen.
I love my RSVP ballpoints! I tend to be a ballpoint pen snob it turns out, because I need something that's just juicy enough, without a lot of friction, but with a light touch to to make fainter lines or build them up.
“If there’s an invitation here, it’s not to acquire anything new, but to notice what has already stayed with you. The tools you return to again and again may be doing quiet, faithful work — forming your hand, your eye, and your patience — even when the progress feels unseen.” I love this, Tara. So many times when I read articles about an artist’s favorite tools, I get the urge to go and buy them. It sparks the mentality that ‘maybe if I just had X, my art would become as good as theirs.” Thank you for inviting us to notice what has already stayed with us and supported us to this point in our creative practices.