Sketches, Smudges & Scribbles: My Drawing Journey

When I was younger, I wanted to be a fashion designer or a graphic designer. I’d draw half-finished people, sketch clothes I would never sew (until recently), and obsess over eyes and faces. It’s funny how some things stick. I never studied art, but I always came back to the pencil.

Drawing, for me, is not about perfection. It’s about translating an emotion I can’t quite explain with words. Most of the time, I don’t even finish a whole face. Half portraits are kind of my thing—mostly because I lose patience halfway through. But that’s okay. Because every time I pick up the pencil again, it’s a quiet little rebellion against perfectionism.

🖊 Why I Draw

I draw to think. I draw to process. I draw when I can’t code anymore, or when the world is too loud. Some of the drawings below were born in insomnia, others in calm Sundays with coffee and a sketchpad. And yes, sometimes I experiment with color (like acrylics, watercolor pencils, or colored graphite), but my true love? Pencil. Always pencil.

🧠 A Mindset of Curiosity

My entire creative journey is self-taught—from sketching realistic eyes to digital painting to trying out perspective and shading techniques I never really learned the “right” way. I grew up styling Myspace pages with custom HTML, then dove into tech, became a developer, later a speaker, and now I’m a self-employed technologist. But creativity was always there—just switching mediums.

Now I code CrewAI assistants, run AWS meetups, and talk about AI on big stages. And still, the simple act of drawing an eye grounds me.

🎨 The Beginnings

Before I knew what kind of “artist” I wanted to be — before I had favorite paper or learned that not all pencils are created equal — I just drew. I sat down with a reference and hoped for the best.

What you see here is the result of countless hours of trial and error, impulsive sketchbook buys, YouTube rabbit holes, and a lot of crumpled paper I never want to see again.

I wanted to draw hyperrealistic portraits before I even understood the difference between HB and 4B. I didn’t know about layering or blending, and I definitely didn’t have a clue which paper could survive my erasing obsession. But I kept going. I drew late into the night, frustrated but stubborn. I rewatched tutorials, tried new approaches, and slowly started to understand why things looked off—and how to fix them next time.

There was no clear style, no line I felt destined to follow. I drew eyes, nude figures, and anything I found beautiful or expressive. The only pattern was this: I never really finished anything the first time. But starting over is also part of the process. Every unfinished piece was a step forward.

The lesson? You don’t have to know what you’re doing to keep doing it. Growth doesn’t happen in a straight line—it spirals.

🎨 The Drawings

🫀 Drawing Bodies — Not for Perfection, but for Presence

I don’t draw nudes to be provocative. I draw them to observe—to explore texture, posture, balance, and softness through lines and shadows. Every curve is a chance to pay attention. Every fold or angle is a way to feel more present.

These sketches were never about realism or anatomical accuracy. They’re slow studies of stillness. My way of appreciating how something can feel vulnerable and powerful at the same time.

And of course… none of them are “finished.” That’s kind of the point.

📖 Pencil Practice & Half Portraits

These are the pieces that taught me patience, observation, and letting go of symmetry. I love high contrast and emotional tension—this Joker piece took hours and almost made me throw my pencils across the room.

I tried many portraits but ended up not really finishing a lot of them — here are some of the ones I started and some that I also finished.

🐾 Color Studies

Sometimes I break my own rules and let color in. These were never about precision—just play. I tried capturing animals in pencil, pastel, and colored pencil.

🌗 Experiments in White on Black

Because sometimes the moon deserves better than grayscale.

👔 Drawing Wisdom in Wrinkles

This was one of my most intense commissions: drawing an elderly man in uniform. Capturing age in pencil is both beautiful and brutal—there’s no hiding from detail. Every wrinkle matters. Every shadow has weight. And every tiny adjustment changes the expression completely.

This drawing taught me a lot about patience. I spent hours layering and adjusting the smile, the jacket details, the eyes—trying not just to draw a face, but to tell a story of life, of joy, of pride. I also learned that older faces are way harder to draw than younger ones. There’s a delicate balance between overdoing the texture and losing the emotion behind it.

It took several passes and corrections to get it to a point where I was happy. I was scared the whole time that I wouldn’t be able to make the client happy—especially with something so personal. But they loved it. And now I look at it as one of my most finished, emotionally loaded works.

🎁 A Gift of Patience (Sort Of)

This drawing was a present for my little sister. It now hangs in her room—which makes me happy and a little surprised, because this one nearly drove me mad.

Yes, I finished it. But that hair? Took forever. Every strand demanded its own moment. I kept asking myself why I didn’t just draw one eye and stop there, like I usually do. That’s my thing. I love half-portraits. I rarely finish both sides of a face because I lose interest halfway through. The asymmetry, the incompleteness—it’s real. It reflects how I work: intuitive, curious, never quite finished.

But for this one, I committed. And I love how it turned out—even if I’m never doing full hair again anytime soon.

💭 Why I’m Sharing This

This blog isn’t just about crafts or tech or juggling. It’s about reconnecting with who I’ve been—and owning it.

I’ve spent 20+ years building things—digital and analog. From styling Myspace pages as a teen to building Amazon Q-powered websites today like meet-the-aws-community.com and thejugglingcompany.com. All of them were “vibecoded” with the Amazon Q CLI because I knew if I let Q start something, it would help me not overthink it. I’d have to fix it, shape it, learn it. But I wouldn’t fall into the perfectionism trap of never starting.

MzZavaa is my creative garden. “Zavaa” (or “sabaa” or however you’d spell it—سَبْعَة in Arabic) means 7. It’s my favorite number. I was born on the 7th. I even tattooed it on myself in binary. Odd numbers just hit differently.

🔍 Curious About My Tech Side?

While this blog focuses on the creative chaos, I also speak internationally about AI, cloud, and automation. You can see my professional talks here:
📍Sessionize – Linda Mohamed

📬 Contact

Want to talk art, code, collabs, or just say hi?
📮 hello@lindamohamed.com

Thanks for stopping by.
Whether you’re here for tech, for sketching inspo, or for a friendly reminder to start before you’re ready—you’re in good company.

💡 Curiosity first. Reflection always. Creativity forever.