A couple of months ago, during a quiet Sunday afternoon, I decided to try my hand at charcoal sketching. I hadn't done any visual art since leaving secondary school, but I felt a sudden urge to step away from screens and create something tangible with my hands.
I took a short walk to a picturesque public park near my flat, which features an old stone footbridge arching over a slow-moving river. The autumn foliage was just beginning to turn golden, so the scenery felt particularly inviting. I sat down on a damp wooden bench, unpacked a spiral-bound sketchbook and a basic set of soft charcoal pencils I'd picked up from a local stationery shop, and simply began outlining the bridge.
To be honest, it was quite tricky at first because charcoal can be terribly messy and unforgiving. I had to learn how to smudge the dark lines with my fingertips to create subtle shading on the water's surface, capturing the play of light beneath the arches. It took me around two hours, and I completely lost track of time because I was so engrossed in getting the textures right.
In the end, I was genuinely surprised by how much I enjoyed it. Even though the proportions were slightly wonky and the drawing certainly wouldn't win any awards, it had a lovely, moody atmosphere. More importantly, the whole experience was incredibly therapeutic. It offered a proper mental break from my busy routine, and I felt a real sense of accomplishment when I saw the finished piece resting on my desk at home.