Green Lake Library: Earned, Not Learned

12/2/21 Seattle Public Library, Green Lake Branch

 

Drizzle again. I wasn’t in the mood for a damp walk, but I had a book to pick up at the Seattle Public Library’s Green Lake Branch, which gave my walk/sketch a purpose. Arriving a few minutes before the library opened, I walked across the street and stood under a large tree to keep my sketchbook and water-soluble ArtGraf carbon pencil as dry as possible. By the time I had finished, the drizzle had turned to full-on rain. I hardly needed the waterbrush! I closed the book quickly and dashed inside.

For several consecutive years, I had made it a project to sketch this library once a year. The last time was in 2016 (this post shows all of them). In the early years, I took as much as an hour to painstakingly measure the angles and lines, double-checking each one, trying to be as accurate as possible. I always chose a comfortable day because I knew it would take a while. By the time I did the last one, I was faster because I had learned to simplify the details, but since architecture is always a challenge, I still took some care to measure. With each of those sketches, I could not have worked more quickly, even if it had been my goal. I didn’t know how.

I had closed the sketchbook wet, and when I got home, I found this cool monoprint
on the opposite page.

Standing in the rain and knowing that the library would open soon, I took exactly nine minutes to make this sketch. No measuring, no double-checking, not even sight-sizing. Accuracy certainly wasn’t the goal (amusingly, I see now that one of the lamp posts is growing from the wrong end of the stairway!). Familiarity with the building probably helped, but it had still been five years since I had last sketched it.

Looking back at the series, this messy, less-accurate version is my favorite. It’s not much to look at, but it’s meaningful to me because I know it represents all the years behind it. Many beginning sketchers strive to be loose, fresh and fast, and if there were a way to teach this, I think an instructor could make a million bucks. Unfortunately, I think one needs many years of being tight, careful and slow before the apparent “looseness” and speed show up. You don’t learn the skill – you earn it.