Sometimes a pattern begins with a carefully planned concept, a collection of reference images, a colour palette and pages of sketches.
And sometimes… your brain is completely fried and you just start drawing. 😂
Wandering Lines came from the second kind of day—and from one of the lessons in Barbel Dressler’s Repertoire course, which I’ve been working my way through as I continue learning surface pattern design.
This particular lesson introduced me to the wonderfully strange world of vermicular patterns.
After a particularly exhausting stretch at work, I still wanted to make something. I didn’t necessarily have the mental energy to develop an elaborate motif or think several steps ahead. So I opened Adobe Fresco, picked up my Apple Pencil and started making lines.
Curvy ones. Wobbly ones. Strange little shapes that twisted around each other.
There wasn’t much of a plan.
And I think that’s exactly why I like it.
Learning Vermicular Patterns Through Repertoire
One of the things I’ve been enjoying about Repertoire is being introduced to pattern styles and historical design structures that I probably wouldn’t have thought to explore on my own.
This lesson was all about the vermicular pattern—a design characterized by irregular, winding and meandering lines.
The word comes from vermiculus, Latin for “little worm,” which suddenly makes the whole thing make perfect sense. 😂
As part of the lesson, I began drawing my own interpretation rather than trying to make every line perfectly controlled. I wanted the marks to feel loose, organic and unmistakably hand-drawn.
Every element in Wandering Lines was hand-drawn in Adobe Fresco, but this time I decided to take the process a little further.
Rather than drawing individual motifs and assembling the final pattern later in Illustrator, I created and arranged the entire repeating pattern directly in Fresco. I loved being able to work so freely—drawing, moving and fitting all those wandering lines together while still keeping that loose, hand-drawn quality.
Once the pattern itself was complete, I exported it to Adobe Illustrator, where I moved on to one of my favourite parts: colour.
One Pattern, Three Personalities
Colour has an amazing way of completely changing a pattern.
The deep navy and ochre version feels the most dramatic to me. There’s something almost heritage-textile about it—the warm lines against that dark background make the simple doodles suddenly feel surprisingly sophisticated.
The dusty rose and cream colourway is softer, warmer and much more playful.
And the muted teal with blush lines sits somewhere in between: calm and contemporary, but still a little quirky.
Same drawing. Same repeat.
Three completely different moods.
And that’s one of the things I love most about surface pattern design: sometimes changing nothing but the colour can make you see the exact same pattern in an entirely new way.
Maybe Not Every Pattern Needs a Big Idea
I’m realizing that learning surface pattern design isn’t always about trying to create something impressive.
Sometimes it’s simply about continuing to draw.
Wandering Lines wasn’t born from some grand creative vision. It came from being mentally exhausted but still wanting to make something with my hands.
And perhaps because I didn’t have enough energy to overthink it, the drawing became much freer.
There was no pressure for every line to be beautiful.
No pressure for every shape to mean something.
They were allowed to wander.
And somewhere along the way, they became a pattern.
Maybe that’s the little lesson I’m keeping from this one: creativity doesn’t always need you at your most productive. Sometimes it just needs you to show up and make a line. Then another one. And see where they take you.
— Cecile
artkohaus 🖤
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