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The Art of Extreme Patience: Shifting from the Palette Knife to the Razor's Edge
Posted on 9/19/2026 5:09:33 PM
By Kate Weisberg
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If you visit my studio on a typical afternoon, you will usually find me surrounded by the rich, heavy scent of linseed oil and turpentine. You will hear the rhythmic, physical scraping of heavy steel palette knives carving columns of thick oil impasto across a canvas. That energetic momentum is how my Land Escapes series comes to life.
But occasionally, the studio falls into a deep, absolute silence. The heavy oil knives are put away, the easel is lowered, and the workspace is swept completely clean. This is when I shift my focus to a creative discipline that demands an entirely different posture: meticulous pastel drawing.
There is an enormous mental and physical transition that happens when moving from the bold, swift gestures of oil painting to the microscopic precision of paper works. For these pieces, my canvas is replaced by premium, heavy Rives 280gm print paper. My tools are no longer flexible steel blades, but artist-grade Derwent pastel pencils.
The true secret to these drawings, however, lies in a tool you will never see left behind on the finished paper: a hand-held razor blade.
Standard pencil sharpeners are too brutal for the fragile, velvety cores of professional pastels; they crush the pigment and blunt the tip. To achieve the razor-sharp point required to render microscopic textures, fine facial lines, and smooth gradients, I must sharpen every single pencil by hand. I sit at my desk, gently slicing away slivers of cedar wood and honing the pastel point with a razor blade until it is as sharp as a needle. It is a process that requires a meditative level of quiet concentration and immense patience. One wrong turn of the blade breaks the point, and the sharpening begins again.
Because of this rigor, these drawings are built up slowly—layer by delicate layer, line by deliberate line. Where my oil paintings celebrate the raw, physical power of moving light, these pastel works celebrate the quiet beauty of absolute structural control. They are intimate, focused, and require me to slow my pulse down to the rhythm of a single pencil stroke.
If you browse the galleries on my website, you might notice that the platform's backend menu lists these pieces under a generic "paintings" category—a necessary technical shortcut to allow my automated fine art print shop to function smoothly. But when you look at the grid, I hope you see them for what they truly are: a labor of time, stillness, and extreme patience.
I invite you to step away from the rushing pace of the day, explore the newly updated Pastel Drawings collection, and see the stories told through the quietest lines.

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