You open the pencil case.
There are 72 colors looking back at you.
Possibly 120.
You need to color one little cottage.
Twenty minutes later, you've selected fourteen greens, rejected six browns, reconsidered the entire concept of yellow, and somehow haven't colored anything.
A color palette solves that problem.
A palette is simply a limited group of colors chosen to work together throughout a picture.
It gives the page visual unity—and gives you somewhere to begin.
Before choosing individual colors, ask what you want the picture to feel like.
Cozy?
Cheerful?
Mysterious?
Peaceful?
Old-fashioned?
Magical?
Dramatic?
Spooky?
A cozy cottage scene might suggest warm golds, mossy greens, muted reds, cream, and brown.
The same cottage colored as a mysterious midnight scene might use indigo, violet, blue-green, silver-gray, and tiny areas of warm gold.
Same drawing.
Completely different story.
Choose a simple coloring page and select only five main colors.
Put the rest of your pencils away.
You may use lighter and darker pressure, layering, and mixtures between those five colors—but don't add another pencil.
At first, five colors may seem ridiculously restrictive.
Then something interesting happens.
You begin creating new colors by layering.
You reuse colors in unexpected places.
The picture starts feeling more connected because the same hues appear throughout it.
Limitation creates decisions.
And decisions create style.
A useful palette often begins with one color that gets the most visual attention.
Let's say you choose deep green.
Green might appear in the foliage, clothing, books, curtains, shadows, or decorative details.
Then choose several supporting colors.
Perhaps:
cream,
rust,
gold,
and burgundy.
Green remains dominant, but the supporting colors prevent the picture from becoming the International Convention of Green Things.
An accent color appears in relatively small amounts but attracts attention.
Imagine a mostly muted palette of:
olive,
cream,
brown,
and dusty blue.
Now introduce a tiny amount of bright red.
Perhaps it's:
a flower,
a ribbon,
a book,
a door,
or a goblin's extremely questionable hat.
Because red appears nowhere else in large amounts, the eye notices it immediately.
Accent colors are especially useful when you want to guide attention toward a focal point.
You don't need to measure anything, but this classic design idea can help you think about balance.
Imagine approximately:
60% dominant color family
30% supporting color family
10% accent
For example:
60% greens and blue-greens
30% creams and warm browns
10% rusty orange
You don't need to count leaves or calculate percentages.
It's simply a reminder that every color doesn't need equal importance.
A palette becomes more interesting when some colors lead and others support.
When you're unsure which colors belong together, look outside.
Nature has already tested quite a few combinations.
Try borrowing colors from:
an autumn forest,
a sunset,
a peacock feather,
a seashell,
a stormy sky,
a wildflower meadow,
a mushroom,
a robin's egg,
a winter woodland,
or a handful of river stones.
Instead of thinking, Which pencils match?, ask:
What colors already appear together somewhere I love?
Now you have a palette.
Choose a favorite photograph.
It doesn't need to resemble your coloring page.
Identify five colors you see in it.
For example, a photograph of an old woodland path might give you:
moss green,
gold,
rust,
deep brown,
and misty blue-gray.
Pull pencils that approximate those colors.
Now use that palette on an entirely different picture—perhaps a kitchen, a dragon, or a Victorian house.
The colors from the photograph create cohesion even when the subject changes.
Warm palettes lean toward:
red,
orange,
yellow,
gold,
peach,
rust,
and warm brown.
They often feel:
cozy,
energetic,
sunny,
nostalgic,
autumnal,
or inviting.
Warm palettes work beautifully for kitchens, autumn scenes, candlelight, sunsets, cottages, holidays, and vintage illustrations.
But don't assume every warm palette must be bright.
Muted rust, ochre, cream, dusty rose, and brown can create a very quiet, sophisticated warmth.
Cool palettes lean toward:
blue,
green,
violet,
turquoise,
and cool gray.
They can feel:
peaceful,
fresh,
mysterious,
wintry,
moonlit,
watery,
or distant.
A cool palette can create everything from a cheerful seaside scene to a dark enchanted forest.
Again, the value and saturation matter just as much as whether the hue is warm or cool.
You don't have to choose one side.
In fact, some of the strongest palettes combine both.
Imagine a moonlit cottage colored mostly in:
indigo,
blue-gray,
violet,
and deep green.
Then place warm gold in the windows.
The warm color immediately becomes important because the surrounding palette is cool.
Or color an autumn scene mostly in gold, rust, and red, then introduce a cool blue sky.
Each temperature makes the other feel stronger.
Complementary colors sit opposite each other on the color wheel:
Red + Green
Blue + Orange
Yellow + Violet
These combinations create strong contrast.
But you don't need to use the brightest possible versions.
Instead of Christmas red and green, try:
burgundy + sage
rust + blue-green
mustard + plum
peach + dusty blue
Muted complements can be wonderfully sophisticated.
Analogous colors sit beside one another on the color wheel.
Examples include:
yellow + yellow-green + green
blue + blue-violet + violet
red + red-orange + orange
Because they're closely related, they tend to create harmonious palettes.
Add one contrasting accent if the result feels too quiet.
For example:
blue + turquoise + green
with a small touch of coral.
That coral suddenly becomes very interesting.
A monochromatic palette uses variations of one color family.
Suppose you choose blue.
You might use:
pale blue,
dusty blue,
turquoise-blue,
navy,
indigo,
and blue-gray.
Then vary pressure and layering to create even more values.
This can produce beautifully atmospheric pages.
You can also sneak in a neutral such as cream, brown, gray, or black without destroying the overall monochromatic effect.
We won't tell the Color Police.
Two palettes can contain essentially the same hues and still feel completely different.
Consider:
bright orange + vivid green + purple
versus
rust + olive + plum.
Both are versions of orange, green, and violet.
One feels energetic.
The other feels earthy and vintage.
You can mute a color by layering a small amount of:
its complement,
gray,
brown,
or another subdued neighboring color.
This is especially useful when you want an old-fashioned, natural, or storybook feeling.
Make four small copies of the same simple illustration.
Create four palettes:
Cozy
Cheerful
Mysterious
Elegant
Limit each version to five main colors.
Don't change the drawing.
Only change the palette.
This is one of the best ways to discover how strongly color affects storytelling.
You may even find yourself liking a combination you would never have chosen if you'd simply opened the pencil case and started grabbing colors.
Once you've selected your pencils, test them together on scrap paper.
Create a small row of swatches.
Then layer some of them.
What happens when your blue goes over your brown?
Does your yellow work with your green?
Can your darkest color create enough contrast?
Do you have something light enough for highlights?
Does one color suddenly scream louder than everybody else?
Better to discover that on scrap paper than halfway across Cinderella's dress.
When you find a combination that works beautifully, keep it.
Photograph the pencils.
Write down their names or numbers.
Create a palette card.
Make a little swatch sheet.
You can reuse that palette later on a completely different picture.
Over time, you may discover that certain combinations keep appearing in your work.
Those recurring choices become part of your personal color style.
Choose fewer colors first. Create more colors through layering.
A limited palette doesn't limit creativity.
It gives your colors relationships.
Choose a dominant family, supporting colors, and perhaps one surprising accent. Repeat them throughout the picture in different strengths and combinations.
And when confronted with 120 beautiful pencils, remember:
You don't have to use all of them just because you own them.
Buying all of them was an entirely separate artistic activity.