Today I want to share some of my old drawings—more than 10 years old now. And along with them, the story of how I first started to believe: maybe I can draw too.
That thought had lived inside me for a long time. I loved browsing art stores, buying materials… but I didn’t draw. I can’t quite explain why. There was a kind of inner block—anxiety, hesitation, a voice saying, *not for you.*
Then one day, after moving from a small town to a big city, I did something simple: I googled “drawing classes.” Honestly, I didn’t expect much.
But I found something. No flashy promises. No “become a pro in 10 days” stories. Just:
**"Come try different materials and subjects. 2000 RUB. All included."**
I couldn’t believe it. The thing I’d dreamed of for *years*… for the price of a dinner out? Just show up and start?
So I did. I signed up.
In those classes, we tried pastels, pencils, charcoal—gentle, approachable materials. Nothing intimidating. I still remember how we’d lay out our work on the floor at the end of class, looking at each other’s drawings.
And here’s what struck me: **everyone succeeded**. We were all drawing the same things, but each piece had its own mood, its own energy. There was no “genius teacher” waving a magic wand—just a calm, attentive instructor who explained things clearly and kindly. That was enough.
📷 These are my drawings from 2012. They're not perfect, but they’re precious to me. They mark the moment I finally took that first step toward a long-held dream.
So if you’ve been putting off something that calls to you—maybe it’s not as far away as it seems. You don’t need a bold, perfect start. Just a real one. Just your own.
