Abdulmohsen Al Rowais grew up surrounded by colour long before he began calling himself an artist. It was there in the elaborate dinners his mother prepared for guests, in his father’s love of bringing people together and in the painted wooden doors of his Saudi village, covered with triangles, circles and squares. These familiar shapes would later become the foundation of his work — repeated, rearranged and reimagined across drawings, public spaces, packaging and old photos.

Abdul is a self-taught artist whose academic background has little to do with art: he studied microbiology and now works in healthcare. Yet drawing has remained a constant throughout every stage of his life. His work looks back without becoming trapped in nostalgia. By bringing his own visual language to everyday scenes and images of people who might otherwise be overlooked, he hopes to preserve a small part of Saudi life for the future. As he puts it, “I am trying to be part of history.”

— Abdul, first, before we speak about your artistic journey, could you please tell me a bit about your roots?

— I was raised in a small village in Saudi Arabia in a family of nine: my father and mother, me and my six siblings. In a way, my parents are artists too, just in a different form. My father has always loved inviting people to our house, and my mother would prepare a big dinner with many different dishes and colours. Watching them inspired me a lot.

Later, I realised that I wanted to do something similar. I started preparing special dinners for my friends and making each gathering feel personal. Sometimes I customise the table or draw directly on it. I want everyone who comes to my house or my space to remember that night.

— And do you remember your first steps in the kind of art you create now?

— It started when I was around 11 years old. At school, we had an art teacher who would usually place a vase or a jar in front of us and ask everyone to draw it using light and shadow.

One day, I decided not to follow the instructions exactly. I turned the object upside down and tried to draw it in a different way. The teacher asked me, “Why are you doing it like this?” I told him, “I want to be different. I want to try something new. We draw the same objects every time — can we play around with them instead?”

From that moment, I began asking myself certain questions: How can I do something differently? How can I create art that is simple but still stands apart from everything else?

— You describe your work as “a nostalgic echo of the past, reimagined for the present.” Could you tell me more about that? What elements of the past are you trying to bring into your art?

— In a village I was raised in, most houses have wooden doors decorated with triangles, squares, circles and many different colours. I would see them every day as I walked past, and I was always drawn to them. I started sketching these shapes and experimenting with them in different ways.

That is where it began. I keep returning to the same visual elements, but each time I challenge myself to do something new with them. The forms may remain familiar, but the textures and colours are always changing. I want the work to feel joyful and perhaps bring a little happiness to someone passing by who stops to look at it.

— From what I hear from my artist friends, it is quite difficult to be noticed today. There are so many talented people, and it can be hard to attract attention. Was that difficult for you as well?

— It is hard to be noticed by people who do not already know you. The only thing you can do is keep creating, do your best and show people how much you love your art. Then you start approaching people and looking for opportunities.

It is not easy. You receive a lot of rejection, but you have to begin again and again and continue making art. You cannot stop just because someone rejects you or because there are no opportunities at that moment. You have to keep working hard. Eventually, people will see that you are doing your best, and the opportunities will come.

It is difficult, but I try not to see it that way. Even when I receive a lot of rejection, I do not let it stop me. I have to make art. For me, art is not about becoming known. I make art because it makes me feel alive and happy. I cannot go a single day without drawing, even if it is only a small sketch.

People may reject my work or ask, “What are you doing? Why are you doing this?” But I am happy. I am doing it because I want to. If you like it, that is fine. If you do not, maybe you will like it in the future.

Of course, rejection sometimes makes me sad, but the feeling never lasts long. The next morning, I wake up, take a small piece of paper and start drawing again. I begin imagining new possibilities. I might think, “What would I create if this brand wanted to collaborate with me? How would I speak to them? What could we make together?”

I keep myself busy by imagining these opportunities and creating something every day.

— I noticed that you have a lot of collaborations. Maybe there is any collab that still stands out for you?

— Sure! It was one of my first collaborations — and it was actually with a small café in Riyadh.

I approached them myself and said, “My name is Abdulmohsen, and I have an idea I would like to create with you.” They asked what I wanted to do, and I told them, “I just need a small space in your café. I will come every day and make a small drawing.”

They asked what I would draw on, so I said they could give me their coffee boxes, packaging or pieces of paper. Each day, I would create a new drawing and hang it on the wall. After a week, the entire wall would be filled with artwork.

Then I asked if I could draw on the glass at the front of the café. They said, “You can try, but if we do not like it, we will remove it.” I told them that was fine and started drawing.

People began coming in, taking photos and sharing the work. Eventually, the drawing became a kind of symbol for the café. They decided to keep it on the glass, and it stayed there for a long time. It became almost like a trademark for the space.

That experience taught me the importance of approaching people myself. If I had not gone to them, how would they have known what I could create?

After that collaboration, other cafés and restaurants began approaching me. They would ask if I could create something for their spaces. That was when more opportunities and commercial projects started coming to me.

— And you are a self-taught artist, aren’t you?

— Yes, completely! I have been obsessed with shapes since I was a child. I do not really know why — it has simply always been part of me. I am a self-taught artist.

My academic background has nothing to do with art. I studied microbiology at university, and afterwards I completed a higher diploma that allowed me to work in hospitals. I now work as an electrophysiology technologist.

Throughout all these different stages of my life, drawing has always supported me. It has helped me continue and find balance.

Most of the time, when people ask what I do, I tell them that I am an artist because I really want to become a full-time artist one day. But it is difficult to support yourself through art alone, so I decided to build another career that would allow me to continue creating.

— How would you describe your approach? What would you love to express through your art?

— Most of the time, I want my art to express the authenticity, comfort and identity of Saudi Arabia. I keep returning to the same shapes, but I try to develop them over time.

For me, it is about keeping things simple and bringing happiness into my life. My way of drawing has not really changed over the years. The foundation is still the same, but I continue improving it by experimenting with different materials, surfaces and textures.

— I also saw an old photo I am curious about. There, an older man is sitting on the stairs. Who is he?

— Most of my photos carry a story. For example, this one of an old man in a Saudi market. He has been there for many years selling shoes.

What I wanted to show is that this kind of picture becomes part of history. Maybe no one notices it now. Maybe not even in three or five years. But I believe that, perhaps 100 years from now, someone might look at that image and start talking about it.

In a way, I am trying to be part of history. Right now, people may like the work or they may not. But in the future, someone might look at it — who knows? I want to give each picture a unique touch, something that no one else can do in exactly the same way. Even if someone tried, it would still not be the same.

I want people, even years later, to look at it and say, “Oh, this was done by Abdul.” That is what I hope to create.