If you’d told me three years ago that I’d be confidently drawing realistic portraits, I would’ve laughed, handed you a napkin with a sad little stick figure on it, and said, “Yeah, sure. This is my current masterpiece.”
But here I am.
Three years in, and I can honestly say: progress is real, even if it’s slow, messy, and full of awkward pencil stabbings.
Let me walk you through what that looked like for me; what helped, what didn’t, and how you absolutely can go from “what even is that supposed to be?” to “wow, I actually drew this?!”
Year 1: The Wobbly Start
When I first started, I didn’t have fancy materials or a clue what I was doing. My sketchbook was full of lopsided circles, stiff stick people, and attempts at eyes that looked more like squashed almonds.
But I kept going.
I started with five minutes a day. Literally. I figured anyone can spare five minutes, right?
Some days, I sketched while waiting for my coffee. Other days I got sucked into it for an hour without realizing. The point is, I kept the habit alive.
I watched free YouTube tutorials. I copied cartoon characters. I tried drawing my hand (it always looked like a bunch of bananas at first). Every drawing was bad… until it wasn’t.
Biggest lesson that year? You have to be bad before you get better. There’s no skipping the ugly phase. Besides, it’s not always about the materials as much as it is patience and practice.
Year 2: Finding My Groove
By year two, I’d drawn a lot. Not every day, but often enough that I wasn’t scared of a blank page anymore.
This was when things got exciting. I started understanding proportions. I learned that eyes aren’t actually little footballs stuck on the face. There’s shadow, depth, and, wow, eyelids are a thing.
I took a few online classes.
Nothing fancy, just affordable courses that helped me learn structure. I started using reference photos, real life, and even stills from TV shows. And I finally stopped tracing, which I used to do, thinking it would help (spoiler: it doesn’t, unless you’re using it to study something specific).
Somewhere in this year, I drew a portrait that actually looked like the person.
Biggest shift? Drawing became less about “getting it perfect” and more about “learning how to see better.”
Year 3: Confidence
Now in my third year, I’ve got favorite pencils, a go-to sketchbook brand, and a pile of drawings I’m actually proud of.
But here’s the thing, I still make awkward drawings. I still mess up proportions. I still look at other artists and think, ‘How the heck do they make it look so effortless?’
What’s changed is this: I no longer stop when I mess up. I draw through the mess. I redo it. I let it be wonky and move on.
I’ve also started sharing my art online (mostly on my blog – Muus Art) consistently. It’s terrifying, but it’s made me more deliberate and way less precious about every sketch. Not everything has to be a masterpiece.
Best part of year three? Realizing that progress doesn’t mean perfect. It just means better than before.
A Few Things That Helped Me (That Might Help You Too)
- Keep your old drawings. Nothing shows your growth like flipping through a sketchbook from two years ago and thinking, Yikes. It’s the best feeling.
- Draw what you love. I hated still lifes. I loved faces and animals. So, I drew faces, animals, and a bit of flowers. Once you have an interest, you become consistent. Interestingly, I began fancying drawing still life once I got the hang of it.
- Don’t wait to feel “ready.” You’ll never feel ready. Just start. Badly. Awkwardly. Just start.
- Take breaks, but don’t quit. Life happens. You’ll miss days, maybe even weeks. That’s fine. Pick up your pencil and try again. I run my business full time, take care of family, play a bit of golf here and there, but I still create time to draw and share my process.
- Share your progress. Even if it’s just with a friend. Or a pet. Or the internet (tag Muus Art when you do). Accountability helps more than you’d think.
Conclusion
I started this journey in my late 20s. I had zero art background. I didn’t go to art school. I wasn’t “naturally talented.”
I was curious. I wanted to see what would happen if I kept going. Three years later, I have an answer: a lot can happen. I intend to keep updating this post because I know the future drawings are going to surprise me. I can’t wait!
If you’re thinking about starting (or restarting), let this be your nudge. Go draw that awkward banana hand. Sketch that weird-looking cat. Mess up, laugh, and keep going.
You might just surprise yourself.
Thinking about starting your own drawing journey? Or already on it and feeling stuck? Let me know. I’d love to hear where you’re at.