The Signpost and the Junction Box
How to Know What Belongs in Your Sketch
- Blog
- March 11, 2026
- 33 mins
The Signpost and the Junction Box: How to Know What Belongs in Your Sketch
A simple three-question test that separates the details worth drawing from the ones worth ignoring.
You are standing at a crossroads in a village somewhere. Maybe it is a quiet lane in Suffolk, maybe a side street in Portland, maybe a corner in a small town you have never been to before. You have your sketchbook open, your pen in your hand, and you are looking at a scene that has – like every real scene – too much in it.
There is a pub across the road. A low wall. A parked van. Some bins. A signpost. A green junction box bolted to a wall. Trees. Wires. A sky that is doing something interesting but will not wait for you.
And the question that freezes most sketchers is not “how do I draw this?” It is something quieter, more paralysing: what do I actually include?
This is the question that Ian Fennelly answers better than almost anyone. Not with a rule. With a way of seeing.
Two Objects, Two Verdicts
In the Pub Sketching Tour course, Ian stands in front of the Anchor pub and points out a signpost. It is a tall, black-and-white post with a sign at the top that reads “Public Footpath to Thurston. Keep to the path.”
He gets excited about it. And when Ian gets excited about something in a scene, it is worth paying attention to why – because the reasons are never random.
Here is what he says:
One is the sign at the top which says Public Footpath to Thurston. Keep to the path. It's telling a story. It's telling a story of the place so it gives it a specific context... The second reason I get excited about this is the structure of it. It's a big, long, vertical shape and because it's in the foreground, it just adds structure to your composition... And the third reason, which is really sad, I just love the pattern. Black and white pattern.
Three reasons. Story. Structure. Pattern. The signpost earns its place on three separate counts.
Then he looks at a junction box nearby – one of those squat green utility boxes you see bolted to walls in every town in England, and on street corners in every city on earth. Different shapes, same energy. And his verdict is immediate:
It is ugly. It's green, it's a horrible shape but most especially, it's ambiguous. If I was to draw that and be really careful in making it as accurate as possible, you still wouldn't have a clue what it was.
The junction box fails. Not because it is ugly – Ian draws ugly things all the time and makes them beautiful. It fails because even perfect accuracy would not help the viewer understand what they are looking at. It adds nothing. It tells no story. It contributes no structure. It offers no visual reward.
The signpost stays. The junction box goes.
But the real gift here is not the verdict. It is the framework behind it.
The Three-Reason Inclusion Test
What Ian is doing – instinctively, because he has been doing this for decades – is running every object through three questions before his pen touches the page. You can do the same thing, consciously, until it becomes instinct for you too.
Question 1: Does it tell the story of this place?
This is what Ian calls storytelling value. The signpost says “Public Footpath to Thurston.” That is not just text – it is geography, history, character. It pins the sketch to a specific place on earth. A “Walk / Don’t Walk” signal does the same thing in New York. A tram stop sign does it in Melbourne. A carved street name does it in Paris.
Anything with words, symbols, or cultural markers that say “this is HERE and nowhere else” scores on storytelling. If you removed it from the sketch and the scene could be anywhere, it was doing more work than you realised.
Question 2: Does it add structure to the composition?
This is about the bones of the drawing. The signpost is a tall vertical in the foreground. That vertical gives the eye something to anchor on. It creates depth by establishing a clear foreground element against the building behind it. It breaks up a horizontal scene.
Structural contribution means anything that adds scale, depth, framing, or rhythm to the composition. A lamppost that gives you a strong foreground vertical. A low wall that leads the eye into the scene. An archway that frames the building beyond. A parked bicycle that establishes scale. These are compositional workers – they are doing a job in the drawing whether the viewer notices them or not.
Question 3: Does it offer visual interest?
Ian says, almost apologetically: “I just love the pattern. Black and white pattern.” This is the delight factor. Not story, not structure – just something that is genuinely satisfying to look at and to draw. Intricate ironwork. The texture of old stone. The tonal contrast of a dark doorway against a sunlit wall. The repeating shapes of windows. The chaos of ivy on a facade.
Visual interest is pattern, texture, tonal contrast, and shape. The things that make a sketch feel rich and alive, that reward the viewer for looking closely.
How the Scoring Works
Once you have asked the three questions, the decision almost makes itself.
3 out of 3 — The object passes all three tests. This is a gift. Include it. More than that: exaggerate it, emphasise it, give it prominence. This is a star player in your sketch. The signpost at the Anchor scores 3/3, which is why Ian does not just include it — he builds part of the composition around it.
2 out of 3 — Strong include. It is doing real work in two ways. Draw it with confidence. A doorway that tells the story of the building (old, character-rich) and adds compositional framing, even if the pattern is unremarkable, still earns its place comfortably.
1 out of 3 — Marginal. It might go in, it might not. If it scores on storytelling alone but adds no structure or visual interest, consider whether a simpler indication (a suggestion, a few marks) is enough. If it scores only on visual interest — say, a nice texture — but has no story or structural role, it might be a distraction rather than an addition.
0 out of 3 — Leave it out. This is where the junction box lives. No story. No structure. No visual reward. It is noise, not signal.
And there is one automatic exclusion that overrides the scoring: ambiguity. If something cannot be recognised even when drawn accurately, it almost certainly should not be in the sketch. The viewer will spend their attention trying to figure out what it is instead of experiencing the scene. That is a cost, not a contribution.
Why This Matters More Than Technique
Here is the thing most sketching instruction gets backwards. Beginners think the hard part is drawing what they see. The actual hard part is deciding what to see.
Ian puts it plainly:
Editing is what you put in and what you take out and it's really important as an urban sketcher for you because it means you're in control. You're in control of what you think is important and what you think is not important.
That word – control – is the key. When you stand in front of a scene without a framework for deciding what matters, the scene controls you. Every detail demands equal attention. Every object feels like it should be included because it is there. And the result is a sketch that is technically accurate but emotionally flat, because everything has been given the same weight and nothing has been given priority.
The Three-Reason Test hands you back control. You are no longer a camera. You are a storyteller. You are choosing what this sketch is about.
And the beautiful paradox is that the sketches where you leave things out are the ones that feel most alive. The eye reads the gaps. The viewer fills in what is missing. The scene breathes.
This Works Everywhere
The examples here are from an English village pub, but the framework is universal. It works on any building, any street, any scene, in any country.
Standing in front of a brownstone in Brooklyn? The fire escape scores on structure (strong diagonal, depth) and visual interest (repeating geometric pattern). The air conditioning units bolted to the windows? Probably 0/3 – ambiguous shapes that add nothing.
Sketching a cafe in Lyon? The hand-painted menu board on the pavement scores on storytelling (this is France, this is this cafe, these are today’s specials) and visual interest (hand lettering, chalk texture). The plastic recycling bin next to it? Zero.
Drawing a terrace of houses in Melbourne? The decorative ironwork on the verandah scores on all three – it is culturally specific (storytelling), it creates a visual rhythm across the facade (structure), and the pattern is gorgeous (visual interest). The wheelie bins on the pavement? You already know.
The test does not tell you what style to draw in, or what pen to use, or how to handle colour. It answers the question that comes before all of those: what deserves your attention?
Try This: The Three-Reason Audit
Next time you are standing in front of a scene – or even sitting at your kitchen table looking out the window – pick five objects you can see and run each one through the test.
For each object, ask:
- Does it tell the story of this specific place? (Would someone looking at the finished sketch know where this is, or what kind of place it is, partly because of this object?)
- Does it add structure to the composition? (Does it create depth, scale, framing, a strong vertical or horizontal, a leading line, or visual rhythm?)
- Does it offer visual interest? (Is there pattern, texture, tonal contrast, or a satisfying shape that would reward close looking?)
Score each one out of 3. Then notice what happens. The scene starts to organise itself. The three-out-of-three objects step forward. The zeros recede. The ones-and-twos reveal themselves as supporting cast or background noise.
You do not even need to draw anything. Just the act of looking this way changes how you see. You stop seeing “a street with stuff on it” and start seeing a hierarchy – stars, supporting players, extras, and things that do not belong on set at all.
And the next time you do open your sketchbook, you will know what your pen is reaching for first. Not because someone told you what to draw, but because you decided what mattered.
The Three-Reason Inclusion Test is one of the frameworks Ian teaches in the Pub Sketching Tour — a course built around four real British pubs, each one a masterclass in seeing what matters and leaving out what doesn’t.
Every building you walk past is full of signposts and junction boxes. The only difference between them is whether you have learned to tell which is which.
Ready to learn more?
Ian Fennelly’s Pub Sketching tour will show you how to create lively, characterful sketches by focusing on charming pub facades, strong composition, and the small details that bring a scene to life. It is a brilliant way to build confidence, simplify the sketching process, and learn how to capture the atmosphere and story of a place in your own distinctive style.
The Signpost and the Junction Box: How to Know What Belongs in Your Sketch
About the Artist
Ian Fennelly focuses on capturing urban spaces and environments by drawing the places where people have been without actually including them.
His process involves layering watercolors, brush pens, and liners to build depth, texture, and detail, allowing them to fully immerse in the scene while adapting to changes in their surroundings.
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