Colored Pencil Butterfly Drawings: Three Sketchbook Studies

Colored pencil drawings of butterflies give me an opportunity to study two things at once: the delicate structure of an insect’s wings and the way bright colors change when they sit next to dark markings. A butterfly can be recognizable from a few patches of color, but a convincing drawing depends on observing how those patches fit together.

Rather than drawing the same butterfly three times, I like the idea of using a sketchbook page for three different studies: one with its wings open, another resting with its wings folded, and a close-up of a single wing. Each view reveals something the others cannot.

Choose butterflies for their shapes and patterns

Before reaching for my colored pencils, I look for references that show the wings clearly. A monarch, a swallowtail and a blue morpho offer very different possibilities, but the most useful photograph is not necessarily the most colorful one. It is the photograph where I can understand how the wings connect to the body, how their edges curve and where the largest markings belong.

I would choose three references for a sketchbook page:

  • Open wings: A view from above with a strong, readable pattern.
  • Folded wings: A butterfly resting on a flower or leaf, where the wings overlap.
  • A wing detail: A close photograph that shows veins, bands, spots or subtle changes in color.

A clear animal drawing reference lets me concentrate on observation instead of inventing anatomy or guessing where a marking should go.

Study 1: Open wings and bold markings

An open-wing butterfly is a good place to begin because both wings are visible. The challenge is resisting the urge to turn them into two perfectly matched decorative shapes.

I begin by observing the body and the largest dark areas of the wing pattern. On a monarch, for example, the dark veins and borders make the orange sections easier to understand. Marking a few of these divisions gives the drawing a sense of direction before I commit to every curve along the wing edges.

Next, I follow the outer contours of the wings, paying attention to the difference between the forewings and hindwings. I compare their widths, the angles at which they extend from the body and the unevenness of the outer margins. Even when the butterfly looks symmetrical at first glance, the reference usually contains small differences between the two sides.

The largest color areas come next. I use broad, overlapping pencil strokes to establish the principal wing colors while leaving small pale markings unfilled. It is easier to preserve a tiny white spot than to recover it after covering the paper with a dark pencil.

Once the main colors are in place, I return to the darker veins and borders. Their thickness varies, so I avoid giving every line the same weight. A few well-observed dark marks often communicate more than outlining every colored section.

Make the two wings feel related without copying them

When I compare the left and right wings, I look at their overall balance rather than trying to duplicate individual spots. The important relationships are the reach of each wing, the position of the largest markings and the way both wings connect to the body.

If one edge turns out slightly different, I can often keep it. Natural wings are not rigid shapes, and a small variation can make a sketchbook drawing feel more observed and less mechanical.

Study 2: A butterfly resting with folded wings

The side view changes the drawing completely. Instead of presenting two broad wings as a flat display of color, the butterfly becomes a collection of overlapping forms. One wing may hide most of the other, while the body, legs and antennae become more important to the pose.

I start with the visible wing’s silhouette and its position relative to the body. I look closely at the point where the wing meets the thorax, the angle of the abdomen and the way the butterfly rests on its support. If it is perched on a flower, I draw only enough of the stem and petals to explain the position.

Folded wings can also reveal colors and markings that are quite different from those on the upper surface. Some have subdued browns, creams and grays, while others display striking spots or bands. I follow the particular reference rather than using the colors I associate with that butterfly species.

For softer transitions, I place neighboring colors in short, overlapping passages. A warm brown may gradually meet a pale cream or a cool gray without requiring a hard outline between them. I leave the strongest edges for markings that truly have sharp boundaries.

The legs and antennae are details I prefer to add near the end. They are thin enough that heavy marks can distract from the wings. Their angles matter more than making every line dark.

Study 3: A close-up of one butterfly wing

For the final colored pencil study, I would stop thinking about the whole butterfly and concentrate on a cropped section of a wing. This gives me space to examine patterns that would be too small in a full-body drawing.

A wing fragment might include the meeting point between two color bands, a row of pale spots or a section where thin veins divide larger areas of color. The drawing does not need to show the entire insect. It only needs enough information to make the structure and pattern interesting.

I work from the broadest color relationships toward the smaller ones. If the reference has a blue area alongside black, I establish both masses before considering the fine texture within them. Otherwise, it is easy to spend time on individual marks and discover that the overall color balance is wrong.

The wing veins help guide the direction of my pencil strokes. Some marks can follow a vein, while others can break across an area of color to suggest its surface. I keep this texture restrained. Butterfly wings are covered in tiny scales, but filling a drawing with identical short strokes can make them look more like fur.

For a close-up study, I find that a few visible pencil marks can be just as appealing as a completely blended surface. The drawing remains a study of the butterfly, but it also shows something of the way it was made.

Layer colored pencils without losing the brightest colors

The most important colored-pencil decision is how much pressure to use at each stage. Pressing hard immediately can fill the paper’s texture and make it difficult to introduce another color. I would rather build a bright orange, yellow or blue through several passes than try to finish it with one heavy application.

My approach changes according to the wing:

  • Bright, flat-looking areas: I establish the main hue evenly, then vary it with a closely related warm or cool pencil so the color does not appear lifeless.
  • Dark borders and veins: I build these after locating the main shapes, reserving the deepest darks for the places that need the strongest contrast.
  • Soft transitions: I overlap two neighboring colors gradually instead of stopping one at an abrupt line.
  • White spots and pale markings: I preserve the paper whenever possible and refine their edges with the surrounding darker color.

A white pencil or colorless blender may help unify certain areas, but neither is necessary for every drawing. Blending can soften useful texture and reduce the contrast between adjacent colors. I decide whether to use it based on the surface I am trying to describe.

If you are still becoming familiar with pressure, layering and pencil selection, my guide to using colored pencils covers the fundamentals. The choice of paper also matters because it affects how many layers the surface will accept.

What makes a butterfly drawing look convincing?

Bright color attracts attention, but I think the relationships between shapes are what make a butterfly recognizable. If the dark wing borders are too thick, the wing can feel heavy. If the veins all have the same strength, the surface becomes busy. If I concentrate only on color, I can lose the delicate connection between the wings and the small body.

When I step back from a drawing, I check three things:

  • Does the outer shape still resemble the butterfly in the reference?
  • Are the largest patches of dark and light in approximately the right places?
  • Do the smaller details support the wing’s structure, or are they competing with it?

I do not need every tiny scale or spot. The goal is to select details carefully enough that the viewer understands the butterfly without the drawing becoming crowded.

Try color, graphite and unfinished studies together

Not every butterfly on a sketchbook page needs to be fully colored. A graphite pencil drawing beside a colorful wing study can make the differences in pattern and value easier to see. I might finish one butterfly with several layers of colored pencil while leaving another as a simpler study of the wing shape.

That variety is part of what I enjoy about drawing insects. Their wings offer intricate patterns, but their bodies and poses still require close observation. If you want to explore more subjects with similarly interesting structures, see my guide to drawing insects.

For a first page of butterfly drawings, I would choose one clear open-wing reference and spend most of my time getting its major shapes and colors right. The folded-wing view and enlarged wing detail can follow. Together, the three studies reveal much more about a butterfly than repeating the same pose until it looks perfectly polished.