How to Draw a Unicorn Easy: Unlocking the Magic of Mythical Art for Beginners

Somewhere between childhood wonder and artistic ambition lies the humble desire to capture magic on paper. Drawing unicorns has become something of a cultural touchstone—a rite of passage for aspiring artists and doodlers alike. Perhaps it's because these mythical creatures embody both the familiar (horses we've all seen) and the fantastical (that spiraling horn that transforms everything). Or maybe it's simpler than that: unicorns represent possibility itself, and learning to draw one feels like learning to make the impossible real.

I've taught hundreds of people to draw over the years, from fidgety seven-year-olds to retirees picking up pencils for the first time since high school. And you know what? The unicorn request comes up more than you'd think. There's something universally appealing about bringing these creatures to life, regardless of age or artistic background.

Starting With Shapes, Not Perfection

Let me share something that took me years to understand: every complex drawing is just a collection of simple shapes having a party together. When I first started teaching, I'd watch students freeze up, overwhelmed by the idea of drawing a "whole unicorn." But here's the thing—you're not drawing a unicorn. You're drawing circles, ovals, and triangles that happen to look like a unicorn when they hang out in the right configuration.

Begin with two circles. Not perfect circles, mind you—nobody's grading your geometry here. The first circle will become your unicorn's head, so make it about the size of a quarter if you're working on standard paper. The second circle, which will form the chest area, should be slightly larger and positioned below and to the right of the first circle. Think of it as setting up two scoops of ice cream that aren't quite stacked properly.

Now, here's where people often go wrong: they try to make these initial shapes too small. Give yourself room to work! I learned this the hard way after years of cramped, tiny sketches that left no space for the flowing mane or dramatic horn that makes a unicorn, well, a unicorn.

Connect these circles with two gently curved lines—these will guide where the neck goes. Already, you can probably see the ghost of a horse-like creature emerging. That's the beauty of this approach; your brain starts filling in the gaps before you've even picked up the eraser.

Building the Body (Or: Why Unicorns Are Just Fancy Horses)

Here's a confession: I spent an embarrassing amount of time in my twenties trying to figure out what made unicorn anatomy "special." Turns out, aside from that horn and often some extra flowing mane action, unicorns are essentially horses having their best hair day. Once I accepted this, teaching unicorn drawing became infinitely easier.

Add another circle for the hindquarters, slightly smaller than the chest circle and positioned lower. You're creating a subtle downward slope from chest to rump—this gives your unicorn a sense of movement even when standing still. Connect this third circle to the chest with curved lines for the back and belly. The back line should have a gentle dip (think of a shallow valley), while the belly line curves slightly outward.

For the legs, resist the urge to draw sticks. I see this constantly—people default to straight lines because legs seem simple. But even in the easiest drawing style, legs have shape and character. Start with elongated ovals for the upper legs (two in front, two in back—though you might only show three total if your unicorn is in profile). These ovals should angle outward slightly from the body. From each oval, extend a narrower shape downward for the lower leg, ending in a small triangle or trapezoid for the hoof.

The front legs attach to the lower part of the chest circle, while the back legs connect to the hindquarters. Don't worry if they look a bit wonky at first—legs are notoriously tricky, and even experienced artists fiddle with them endlessly.

The Head: Where Personality Lives

The head deserves special attention because, let's face it, this is where your unicorn's soul resides. That initial circle you drew? Time to refine it. Add a smaller circle overlapping the bottom of the head circle—this becomes the muzzle area. The overlap creates a natural transition that prevents your unicorn from looking like it has a tennis ball glued to its face.

For the eye, place a almond shape about one-third of the way down the head circle. Here's something most tutorials won't tell you: the size and position of the eye dramatically affects your unicorn's personality. Higher and larger gives you Disney-cute. Smaller and more centered creates a noble, realistic look. I tend to go somewhere in between—large enough to be expressive but not so huge that we're in cartoon territory.

The nostril is just a curved line or small oval on the muzzle. The mouth? Another gentle curve beneath. Keep it subtle—unicorns don't need to be grinning like game show hosts.

Ears are where people often stumble. They're not triangles stuck on top! Think of them as leaf shapes or elongated diamonds. Place them on the upper curve of the head, angled slightly outward. The key is making them proportional—too small and your unicorn looks pinheaded, too large and you've got a rabbit situation happening.

The Horn: Making Magic Visible

Ah, the horn—the whole reason we're not just drawing a horse. Position it between and slightly in front of the ears. The classic unicorn horn spirals, and here's my trick for making those spirals look natural: imagine a piece of ribbon wrapped around a cone. The lines should curve around the horn's form, getting closer together as they near the tip.

Start with a long triangle, then add curved lines that wrap around it. These lines should follow the same angle—if they're all over the place, your horn looks more like a weird ice cream cone than a magical appendage. The base of the horn should blend smoothly into the forehead. I often add a few small lines radiating from where horn meets head, suggesting that this isn't just something stuck on but an organic part of the creature.

Length matters here. Too short and it's a party hat. Too long and your unicorn can't get through doorways (yes, I think about these things). Aim for a horn length roughly equal to the length of the head from ears to muzzle.

Mane and Tail: Where You Can Go Wild

If the horn is what makes a horse a unicorn, the mane and tail are what make your unicorn yours. This is where you can really let personality shine through. Some folks go for the flowing, ethereal look—all swooping curves and impossible volume. Others prefer a more realistic approach with gravity actually having a say in things.

For an easy but effective mane, start with the basic shape—think of it as a flowing mass that starts at the top of the head and curves down the neck. Don't draw individual hairs yet. Just get the overall flow. I like to make my manes slightly wavy, with a few distinct sections that overlap. This creates depth without requiring you to draw ten thousand individual strands.

The tail follows similar principles. Start at the rump and let it flow downward and outward. The key to both mane and tail is remembering they have weight and movement. They're not static—even in a standing pose, there should be a sense of flow.

Once you have the basic shapes, add some internal lines to suggest hair texture. These don't need to follow every curve perfectly. In fact, some variation makes it look more natural. And here's a secret: leaving some areas without detail actually makes the detailed parts stand out more. It's like seasoning food—you don't dump the entire spice rack in there.

Bringing It All Together

Now comes the moment of truth—refining your sketch into something that actually looks like a unicorn. This is where having an eraser becomes your best friend. Start removing the construction lines (those initial circles and connection lines) that you don't need anymore. But don't erase them all at once! Work section by section, making sure you're happy with each area before moving on.

As you clean up, you'll notice areas that need adjustment. Maybe the neck is too long, or the legs seem off. This is normal and part of the process. Even after decades of drawing, I still find myself tweaking proportions at this stage. The difference is I've learned to see these adjustments not as mistakes but as part of the journey toward the drawing I envision.

Add some final details—perhaps some feathering around the hooves (those little tufts of hair that draft horses have), or a few wisps of hair that have escaped the main mane. These small touches are what transform a basic drawing into something with character.

The Secret Nobody Tells You

Here's what frustrates me about most "how to draw" tutorials—they present drawing as a linear process where you follow steps and boom, perfect unicorn. But that's not how it works. Drawing is messy. It's full of eraser shavings and second-guessing and moments where you're convinced you've ruined everything.

I remember one student, a woman in her fifties who hadn't drawn since elementary school. She was following along fine until we got to the legs, then she just stopped. "Mine looks like a unicorn with polio," she said. We both laughed, but then I showed her my sketchbook—pages and pages of wonky-legged horses and unicorns from when I was learning. The point isn't to get it right the first time. The point is to keep going.

Your first unicorn might look more like a deformed goat with a traffic cone on its head. That's okay. Your tenth will be better. Your hundredth will be something you're proud of. The magic isn't in the horn—it's in the practice, in the willingness to put pencil to paper even when you're not sure what will come out.

Making It Your Own

Once you've got the basic unicorn down, the real fun begins. Maybe your unicorns have wings (hello, alicorns!). Maybe they have scales instead of fur, or bioluminescent horns, or manes that look like galaxies. I've seen unicorns drawn as deer, as dragons, as bizarre beautiful combinations that exist nowhere but in the artist's imagination.

The foundation I've given you here—the circles and ovals and basic proportions—that's just the starting point. It's like learning chords on a guitar. Once you know them, you can play other people's songs or write your own. Same with unicorns. Master the basics, then break all the rules.

I had a student once who decided her unicorns would have two horns. "Why not?" she said. "Who made the one-horn rule?" And you know what? Her two-horned unicorns were magnificent. They shouldn't have worked, but they did, because she drew them with conviction and joy.

That's really what it comes down to. Yes, technique matters. Yes, practice helps. But at the end of the day, the best unicorn is the one you enjoy drawing. Whether it's anatomically correct or wildly imaginative, whether it took you five minutes or five hours, if you enjoyed the process, you've succeeded.

So grab that pencil. Make those circles. Draw that horn. And remember—every artist who's ever created a unicorn you've admired started exactly where you are now, with a blank page and the audacity to try.

Authoritative Sources:

Edwards, Betty. Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain. 4th ed., TarcherPerigee, 2012.

Foster, Walter. How to Draw Horses. Walter Foster Publishing, 1989.

Hamm, Jack. Drawing and Cartooning Horses. Perigee Books, 1982.

Hart, Christopher. Kids Draw Fantasy. Watson-Guptill Publications, 2003.

Hodges, Elaine R. S., ed. The Guild Handbook of Scientific Illustration. 2nd ed., John Wiley & Sons, 2003.