Which App Makes It Simple To Draw A Cartoon Character?

There’s a playful kind of magic in reducing things to simple shapes, and yes — you absolutely can draw a cartoon dog using only circles. I’ll walk you through how I do it when I’m doodling on a coffee-stained sketchbook while a show is on in the background. Start with a large circle for the body and a smaller one slightly overlapping for the head. Add two medium circles for the cheeks or muzzle area, then two tiny circles for the eyes and one flattened circle for a nose. Ears can be circles too — squash them a bit or attach them as half-circles to give character. Legs are elongated circles stacked like sausages, and paws can be tiny disks. Tail? A little circle on a stick, or a sequence of diminishing circles to show wagging motion. I like to erase overlapping lines and then trace bold outlines, adjusting circle sizes to push the dog from chubby and floppy to sleek and bouncy. If you want personality, tweak the circle placements: wide-set eyes for goofiness, tilted head by rotating the head circle, or a big belly circle for a lazy pup. Coloring inside those circular boundaries with soft gradients or flat color sells the cartoon look. It’s a silly, forgiving method — I’ve sketched dozens this way waiting for buses, and none of them looked bad. Try it and see which circle combinations become your signature pup.

On a slow Sunday with a mug of tea and an open sketchbook, I like to break a cartoon cat down into tiny, friendly shapes. Start by drawing a soft circle for the head and a slightly wider oval beneath it for the body — nothing perfect, just gentle guides. Add two triangle ears on top, but round the tips a bit to keep it cute. From there, sketch two small circles for the eyes; leave plenty of space between them for a chubby-cheeked look. Next, give it a tiny triangle or rounded dot for a nose and a short vertical line down to a wide '3' shaped mouth. For paws, draw little ovals or mitten shapes, and for the tail use a swoopy S-curve — think of it as a ribbon. If you want to add personality, tweak the eyes: big ovals with highlights for innocence, slanted ovals for mischief. Shade lightly under the chin and inside the ears to give depth. I often add whisker dots and three curved whiskers on each side. Finally, ink the final lines, erase the guides, and add simple fur markings: stripes, a spot over one eye, or a white belly. If you’re working digitally, try a textured brush for fur. I love coloring with soft pastel tones; it makes even a tiny doodle feel like it belongs in a cozy comic strip. Try copying a pose from 'Chi's Sweet Home' for reference and then twist it into your own little character.

My sketchbook always smells faintly of pencil shavings and coffee, and when I'm trying to draw a cartoon animal that actually reads as believable, I pull a stack of references. Start with the basics: photos of the real animal (close-ups of eyes, paws, fur patterns) and a good anatomy book like 'Animal Anatomy for Artists' to understand the skeleton and major muscle groups. Then mix in stylistic references — classic cartoon studies, wildlife photography, and even toy designs — so you can see how others simplify shapes. I like doing quick gesture studies from life or short clips of animals moving in 'Planet Earth' or slow-motion videos on YouTube. Gesture captures the energy; anatomy explains why the joints bend like that. Use silhouette studies to check readability, and make a reference board (physical or a pinned folder) with front, side, and three-quarter views. Finally, play: exaggerate proportions, simplify details into basic shapes, and test expressions. Combining real anatomy, motion references, and stylized examples is my favorite recipe for a lively cartoon animal that still feels rooted in reality.

I've got a stack of sketchbooks and an embarrassing number of bookmarked tutorials, so here's what actually worked for me when I wanted to draw cartoon bodies with believable proportions. Start with the classics: learn the Loomis head and body proportion systems from resources inspired by Andrew Loomis — books like 'Figure Drawing for All It's Worth' and 'Fun With a Pencil' are gold even for stylized figures. Then shift to modern, practical lessons on YouTube: Proko's videos on gesture and proportions, and MikeyMegaMega for stylized, anime-influenced bodies. For step-by-step exercises I used Drawabox to build forms and Michael Hampton's 'Figure Drawing: Design and Invention' for simplified construction methods. Mix in daily gesture practice from sites like Line of Action or QuickPoses to loosen up timing and rhythm. I recommend alternating structured lessons (book chapters, specific video tutorials) with timed gestures and tiny character thumbnails. Save reference pinboards from Pinterest or CharacterDesignReferences and pose from life—photograph a friend or use a mirror. Over time you'll see the same proportion rules adapt into your own style, and that moment is crazy satisfying.

Time is one of those slippery things when it comes to drawing a full cartoon scene — it really depends on what you want out of it. For a quick, energetic background with a couple of flat-colored characters, I can crank something usable in 1–3 hours if I'm focused: thumbnail, rough line, flat colors, and a touch of shading. But if I'm aiming for a polished piece with refined linework, lighting, textures, and multiple characters interacting, the same scene can stretch to 8–20 hours spread over a few days. Experience and workflow matter a lot. I used to spend ages fussing over tiny details; now I do thumbnails first, lock composition fast, and block in values before getting lost in the pretty stuff. Complex perspectives, crowded environments, or custom props multiply time exponentially. Client revisions, reference hunting, and color-refresh passes add more. Tools help: custom brushes, templates, and asset libraries shave off hours, while painting every leaf or brick from scratch balloons the schedule. In short, plan for a range, break the scene into stages, and resist polishing too early — it keeps the project moving and my wrist less sore.

There’s an art to a great cartoon smile that I fell in love with after hours of doodling in the margins of notebooks. I usually start by thinking of the mouth as a simple shape: an upper curve and a lower curve that meet at corners. For expressive smiles, the corners are everything — raise them for joy, pull one up for a smirk, and stretch them wide for full-throttle grin. I sketch a quick centerline for the face to get direction, then build the mouth around it so the smile follows the head’s tilt. I like to break it into values: silhouette, teeth/tongue block, and crease lines. Pros often simplify teeth into a single white shape or a hint of a row rather than drawing each tooth, which keeps the mouth readable at small sizes. Adding cheek swoops, little fold lines at the corner, and slight eyebrow adjustments sells the expression. In animation, timing and stretch matter — a quick snap into a wide shape feels energetic; a slow easing makes it tender. Practically, I copy expressions from photos, do quick thumbnails (10–20 tiny faces), and study how different styles treat the same smile. Try exaggerating until it feels a little wrong, then tone it back — that awkward middle is where memorable smiles hide.

Drawing expressive bunny ears is one of those tiny joys that can totally change a character’s personality, and I love experimenting with it in my sketchbook. I start with a very simple silhouette—two elongated shapes that read clearly at a glance. From there I play with weight and volume: thick bases give a grounded, heavy feel while thin, tapered ears feel delicate and mischievous. I’ll often doodle three or four thumbnail poses just to see how the silhouette reads against the head; if the ear silhouette reads even as a tiny thumbnail, it’s working. Motion is where ears come alive. I use principles like squash and stretch, drag, and follow-through. A quick flick uses a sharp arc and a little overshoot; a sad droop needs slower timing and a tiny bounce when it settles. I also pay attention to inner ear shapes, line weight, and a hint of shadow—these tiny details sell the materiality, whether the fur feels soft or stiff. When I’m stuck I pull up clips of 'Bugs Bunny' or 'Zootopia' for reference, and then I redraw from those frames until the movement lives in my hand.

I still get excited when I find a new little trick that makes faces click for kids — it feels like unlocking a tiny door for them. One of my favorite low-tech starters is the circle-and-line method: draw a simple circle for the skull, add a vertical guideline for center and a horizontal for eye placement, then subdivide that horizontal into quarters to place eyes, nose, and mouth. I always sketch these on heavy paper with a soft pencil so kids can erase and try different expressions without worrying. For tools, I like a combo: a chunky HB pencil, a kneaded eraser, thick sketchbooks, and a set of washable markers for finishing. Add in a few templates (eye shapes, nose types, mouth curves) and you’ll have kids mixing-and-matching features like toy parts. If you want digital, try an iPad with a pressure-sensitive stylus and an app that has symmetry and stamp brushes. Also, printable worksheets and simple how-to books like 'How to Draw Cool Stuff' give step-by-step visuals that younger learners really cling to when they’re starting out.