Can you tell which is which?
Take a close look at the two images above (and the two below). One is a digital print, and the other is a hand-drawn colored pencil and pastel drawing. Can you tell the difference? At the bottom of the Blog is a challenge.
Can you go backwards?
Most artists move from drawing by hand to working digitally. Lately, I've been wondering what happens when you reverse the journey.
For the past several years, I've been creating digital collages from my original drawings from the Bicycle Dynamism and Revealed Faith series. It begins with artwork made by hand—colored pencil, graphite, and pastel drawings that I photograph and bring into Photoshop. Once there, I cut, layered, rotated, combined, and rearranged the images until something entirely new began to emerge. Those digital works became a series I call Freedom.
From Pixel to Pencil
Recently, I found myself asking a question I hadn't considered before:
What would happen if I took those digital images and brought them back to the drawing board?
Not by printing them, but by redrawing them completely by hand. At first, it sounded a little backward. Artists often move from traditional media to digital tools, but I'm traveling in the opposite direction—from hand to computer...and now back to hand again.
The digital image becomes more of a roadmap than a destination.
As I've begun this process, I've discovered that it's much more than copying an image. A computer creates smooth edges, perfectly even color, and instant changes. Colored pencils and pastels don't behave that way. They have their own personality. Colors build slowly through layers. Textures appear where none existed before. Lines soften, edges shift, and every mark records the movement of a human hand. The digital image becomes more of a roadmap than a destination.
Those aren't mistakes—they're discoveries.
Sometimes I find myself changing the spacing between forms or adjusting the composition because what worked beautifully on a screen doesn't always feel right on paper. Colors also take on a life of their own. A vibrant digital blue may become richer, warmer, or more subdued as it's built layer by layer with pigment. Those aren't mistakes—they're discoveries.
In many ways, this project feels like translating a story from one language into another. The meaning remains, but the expression changes. Something is inevitably lost, but something entirely new is gained. That's what excites me most about this series.
When it passes through my hands a second time
I'm not interested in making perfect replicas of my digital work. I'm interested in seeing how the same image transforms when it passes through my hands a second time. Each drawing becomes a conversation between technology and tradition, precision and intuition, speed and patience.
It's a reminder that even in a digital world, there is still something deeply satisfying about slowing down, picking up a pencil, and allowing an image to find its way back to paper.
Now for the fun part.
Study each pair of images and decide which one you think is the digital print and which one is the hand-drawn original.
Reply to this blog with your guesses by August 5, 2026.
If you guess correctly, I'll send you one complimentary 6½ × 8½-inch print of your choice from the two images featured in this blog.