Novel & Cerita How To Make An Oc When You Can't Draw

She walked towards her desk, ” Good morning class, today I want you to draw or paint a self portrait. I let out an exasperated sigh, portraits are my least favourite thing to draw. My preferred medium of art is drawing so there’s no way that I am going to paint. I think I’ll do a charcoal drawing that way I can smudge away half the artwork to create my face. I take my drawing media out of my bag and take a piece of compressed charcoal and wrap the bottom half in a piece of tissue. I don’t want to get my entire hand full of charcoal… I’m not the biggest fan of getting my hands dirty. Using the piece of Ashrad paper that Miss Wellington gave out to the class I begin. I decide to start with one

Kai I’m sitting in my studio with a blank canvas in front of me, the kind I used to fill without even thinking. Back when my hands knew what to do before my brain caught up, back when drawing was as natural as breathing. Now it’s sitting here, white and empty, like it’s mocking me for even trying. I press the charcoal to the surface anyway, try to make a line, any line at all. But my hand won’t move the way it used to and the stroke comes out shaky and uncertain, nothing like what I’m seeing in my head.

I didn't want to give anyone the satisfaction of seeing me cry. I snatched a piece of paper and a pencil from my bag. I didn't listen to a word about the French Revolution. I just started drawing. I drew Ace’s face. I did my best to make sure his eyes look as cold as they really were. Then, I started writing around it. *Die.* *Go to hell.* *I hate you.* The cursives were messy and sharp, filling the space around his head. It felt good to press the pencil into the paper until it almost tore. It was the only way I could actually scream without making a sound.

However, I could feel the family's lingering doubts, their eyes filled with uncertainty. Realizing that words alone would not be enough to dispel their reservations, I decided to take a different approach. I reached for a nearby whiteboard and marker, my eyes gleaming with determination. With swift strokes, I began to sketch a detailed diagram, illustrating the intricate procedure I planned to perform. As I explained each step, my hands moved gracefully across the board, capturing the family's attention. The diagrams transformed complex medical jargon into a tangible visual representation, bridging the gap between their concerns and my capabilities. I poured my passion and expertise into eve

A tear had crept out. " I'm... I'm.. Fine." I muttered, smiling and cleaning my face. Ana shot me a quizzical look and stared at my paper. " you've not drawn anything " she pointed out. " time's almost up" " oh! I'll start something now" I quickly said picking up my pencil. I stared at the paper and hesitated. I had nothing to draw. What is wrong with me? From the corner of my eyes I saw Ana roll her eyes and bring out something from her bag which she passed to me. There were papers.

So I couldn’t ask about his secret shag partner and also couldn’t chew my carbs like a normal person? He cleared his throat and, in that clearly-I’m-trying voice, asked, ‘Did you send the sketches to Octavia? Was she happy with them?’ ‘Yeah. Sent the roughs last night. She said she loved them. I’ll tweak a few details today, and we can start sampling tomorrow. Only…’ I stared down at my empty plate. Only I didn’t have the bloody equipment. No casting machine, no wax injector, no laser welder—just a pretty little sketch that couldn’t magic itself into diamonds and gold.

I ended up with delicate silver swirls along my temples and cheekbones, while Isaac chose bold blue designs that highlighted his eyes in an annoyingly attractive way. “Now for the real fun,” he said, grabbing my hand and pulling me toward a section of pavement that hadn’t been decorated yet. He bought us each a box of chalk, and we knelt on the ground side by side. “I have no idea what to draw,” I admitted, staring at the blank concrete. “Just let go,” Isaac suggested, already drawing a stick figure. “There are no rules.” No rules. What a concept.

But I wasn’t the type to be easily intimidated. “Then make your own version,” I finally said. “Let’s see who does it better.” Aaric smiled with triumph. “Challenge accepted.” He stepped away from the concrete divider and crouched down, pulling a black leather notebook from his backpack. With smooth, swift motions, he started drawing clean, precise lines—more mechanical than my free, emotional sketches. I watched every move, captivated despite myself.

I removed the towel from my head and fixed it with sweet ointments. I also started applying oil to my skin until every inch of me was covered in oil. I didn't bother to wear undergarments because I felt more comfortable being free. Then I grabbed one of my drawing boards and placed it on the floor. I felt more comfortable drawing on the floor. I grabbed my paint and painter, and I was ready. I drew long strokes on the plain drawing board and closed my eyes, remembering the feeling of home. Shadow Ace was beautiful with many cottages, but I rarely stayed inside, so the thick, sturdy forest became home.

Coco hesitated, wondering if she should just leave. Then, she grabbed her bag and took out a notepad and a pen. Coco drew a cartoon character on the paper and handed it to Lucas. "Here, this is for you. I hope you'll feel better." Lucas lowered his gaze to the paper she had handed to him. Coco had drawn a simple cartoon character of him. With a few simple strokes, she had captured his facial features precisely. The eyes bore a significant resemblance to his eyes, allowing others to recognize him in the drawing.