Circulation Desk Portrait and Do-overs

I did something I didn’t want to do. Usually that ends badly. It went surprisingly well. A strange evening involving near life-sized plush cheetahs and friendly pharmacy staff. Sometimes we get a do-over.

I wasn’t up for going to a monthly sketching event at my local library. The past week had seen my energy and mood tick steadily down. So I made excuses for myself. Excuses like I had to go to the pharmacy that’s open twenty-four hours and located three blocks from our apartment.

We Talk Ourselves Out of Anything

I don’t know why I went. As the time was ticking closer, the excuses got stronger. What if there’s too many people? Too few people? The still life isn’t interesting? At some point in that treatise on the procrastinator’s prayer of what-ifs a slow burn in my chest started to flare up. It was this feeling of disapointment, guilt and being fed up with myself. I didn’t want to think of how I would explain not going to the one person who knew and expected me to go. It was a terrible physical feeling.

Shutting myself out of my own mind I grabbed a sketchbook, pen roll and jacket. I was in the car not remembering having taken my keys or putting on my shoes. There were good spaces available in the library’s lot. I was on the second floor gallery, seated, and with an empty page ready to go in what seemed like a minute.

Those Times We’re Wrong About How Bad Things Can Be

There was a nice turnout. A Goldilocks approved number of people. Everyone was relaxed with good attitudes and ready to draw. Our first subject? A giant stuffed toy Cheetah sitting next to a bowl of fruit. The library’s curator has a good sense of humor and knows how to break the ice.

Soon after the endless series of spots we had a surprise model. A special occassion. It’s usually hard to get anyone to volunteer to sit for the group during the school year with tutoring sessions and other informal events throughout the library. It was winter break for the schools and the circulation desk had little traffic.

Checking out drawing and art books every other week over the past six months I’ve come to know most everyone working the circulation desk. Our volunteer to sit for a portrait was a fellow art school alum. We’ve chatted about our interests here and there (she’s the resident watercolor expert). It was nice to draw a friendly, familiar face.

After my anxious, paranoid and panic-stricken experience from the portrait party, I wondered if this was the do-over I needed. We had fifteen minutes for our portrait. Fifteen minutes that seemed like an indulgence compared to the rapid succession of ten-minute sketches at the portrait event one day short of two and a half weeks ago (rough estimate of course). The idea of an extra five minutes transformed my senses.

Let’s try this again

I used the same brush pens. I didn’t try to be clever. I started with an English red erasable colored pencil. I didn’t try to be exacting with each stroke. The underdrawing complete I moved marks across the page with relaxed confidence. I finished a fun, enjoyable portrait of my friend at the circulation desk.

She loved it. The group organizer and other attendees enjoyed it as we exchanged sketchbooks to see everyone’s different approaches. I left relieved, satisfied and happy to have finally permitted myself a do-over.

Placing Thoughts in Other Heads

I did get to the pharmacy. I carried my improved state to the pickup counter. Another opportunity for self-conscious anxiety. I always await the reactions of the assistants. I read their minds full of wariness and judgements as my medications come up on-screen. Paranoia fills the space from queue back to my car.

This isn’t true of course. There was one time I interpreted an expression from a new employee months ago. I planted the reaction on everyone else ever after. I planted every terrible thought. Another masochistic fantasy to place on the shelf.

Called up. I gave my name, birthdate, and waited for the reaction as the keyboard clicks came to a close. Where’s the reaction? The pause? Where’s the head slowly jerking back wishing the next register had called me? I waited and none of those things happened.

I got a relaxed smile. She gave a helpful update on my refill schedule. We said goodbye. I’m just not that big of a deal. Sometimes strangers can teach us how to accept ourselves. They give us a do-over. Grant permission to accept.

5 Artists, 5 Quotes on Drawing

Practice. Rehearse. Just over a week away. I registered for a speed round-robin portrait event. Artists are allowed exactly ten minutes to complete each drawing. “Times up!” We hurry and switch to the next fresh new face. It’s both performance, test of skills and courage. Nervous, I’ve looked for anything to squelch the butterflies. Maybe build confidence.

I keep lists upon lists. Several include favorite artists. I have a few lists of quotes. Looking, I found a perfect handful. Meditating on each one I thought they made a good list to share.

Sense of purpose. Clarity of voice. Insidious feelings of inadequacy. Each artist offers a guiding, bold honesty. Keep these quotes close for moments of creative confusion.


Believe it or not, I can actually draw.

~ Jean-Michel Basquiat

My dream is to show the fire which comes out of the horses’ nostrils; the dust which rises from their hooves. I want this to be an infernal waltz.

~ Rosa Bonheur

Even if a comic artist spent his whole life drawing yogurt cups. You would still see his most secret and deranging sensibility emerge.

~ Jean “Moebius” Giraud

I wish I was better at art. I love some of the great artists of the 19th century and, compared to them, I just feel I lack this technique.

~ Hayao Miyazaki

Errors and exaggerations do not matter. What matters is boldness in thinking with a strong-pitched voice, in speaking out about things as one feels them in the moment of speaking; in having the temerity to proclaim what one believes to be true of the consequences. If one were to await the possession of the absolute truth, one must be either a fool or idle. If the creative impulse were stunted, the world would then be stayed on its march.

~ José Clement Orozco

Quotes are translations from the original language