Slowing Down to the Speed of Sketching
E141: Zaragoza picture essay
Dearest Friend and integral member of Tribe Tilt
This edition is a lesson to myself to “practice what you preach”. My thanks to
, (just published her sketches In Plein Sight) and (recently returned from a trek in the Himalayas) for inspiring this week’s edition. Follow the breadcrumbs to see how they made this edition happen.Right on the heels of last week’s Rest Edition 20 post, and her own “The Beauty of Rest” post my friend
posed this as a 10-minute writing prompt for our weekly Crows1 gathering:There never seemed to be enough time, but then everything changed …
Regular members of Tribe Tilt know that in this group we advocate strongly to take pre-planned (read burnout-prevention) breaks. I’ve published 20 such ‘Rest” editions. It is easy to say, however. Doubly hard to do! I am internalizing the message myself. I have to slow myself down.
** MEETUP? I'm in London for the month of June **
There never seemed to be enough time, but then everything changed …
Dateline: Zaragoza, Spain
I do not recall traveling alone. I often fly or drive alone. But always en route to someone or somewhere familiar. The last time might have been … before I got married, when I lived in Manhattan. Gosh! BC. Before. Children.
Yet here I am — alone — at a table on the Plaza del Pilar enjoying a plate of a typical tapas called “ternasco” from Aragon, and another with a cocktail spear of anchovies interlaced with a chili and olives. Colourful. I chase it down with a glass of lightest celadon coloured vinho verde to cut the oils in the first and the mouthful of saltiness of the second. “That anchovy would have been perfect for Bern’s palate!” I take a photo of the plate, making a mental note to share it with him when I get home.
Photos. These three add themselves to the 118 I have already taken of the Cathedral, the fountains. (121 of the 782 I would take on this 27,398 step solo jaunt to Zaragoza that lasted between noon Sunday to noon Thursday, including all the upside-down reflections if you zoom in on the wine glass)
“Why do I take so many photos?” I wonder to myself. Ever since I took the photography class with
I find myself waiting for the right ray of sunlight, taking four different angles, experimenting with framing and balance. And the architectural, cultural and historical detail in Zaragoza offers me so much opportunity to test each of these skills. And the barrier to entry of taking these mental snapshots has lowered so much now that I hold this digital marvel in my hand. No more 35mm spools - that mainstay of my BC era.As I twirl my wineglass, I watch Zaragozan families amble lazily along their rambla - the parents walk arm in arm, watching their toddler gambol, allowing one to splash through the puddle! When is the last time I delighted in walking so lazily? If you’ve been around me, you know I walk at breakneck Manhattan speed. I efficiently and effectively navigate my way through stationary and moving pedestrian traffic like water finding its way around obstacles.
When is the last time I truly slowed down? Would I know how to?
My next stop was the Aljafería Palace2 in Zaragoza. Tripadvisor promised it to be an architectural delight on the same level as the Alhambra in Granada. Checking my watch, I realized I’d hit the siesta break, and the palace would not open until 4pm. That left me a little time to wander around, maybe even browse a store or two … a bookstore perhaps?
Whatif? I wondered, … Whatif I bought one of those little Moleskin blanks, the ones the size of your passport, slim enough to fit into your handbag? Whatif I took a page out of
’s inspirational 15 minute watercolours, working only with a humble pencil, my omnipresent Muji pens and highlighters?Whatif I slowed down to the speed of sketching?
My new purchase in hand, I found my way to a park bench commanding a view of the Palace and the moat. How hard can it be to draw straight lines and triangles? The iconic castle structure stood before me, recognizable from every child’s fairytale story. I threw on my noise-cancelling headphones and set to sketching.
“What are you doing?” the gentleman gestured to me, interrupting my flow. “Oops,” I thought, “he’s caught me whistling out loud to ELO’s “Mr. Blue Sky”!” I tried to apologize in English. Instead he gestured intriguingly to the sketch book. “Can I see your drawings?” Now I was embarrassed! He’d caught me on my first sketch, so I had to ‘fess up to the fact that I was a complete noob!
As I returned to my task I found myself slowing down. R-e-a-l-l-y slowing down. Counting how many round turrets with flat teeth there were (Four. Shorter than the middle ones. One on each corner.) Noticing how many taller towers stood between the corners (four on the south side, with the classic crown maillot shape that every first grader uses to make their school crowns). With each detail I notice my breathing change, slowing down. Details that I had not thought to take in in my shutterspeed rush to capture “the scene”. I’m cognizant of how the sky makes itself visible through the walkway on the turret level of the castle.
I note the slits in the towers. And the familiar Norman shapes of the windows. As I slowed down, I found myself paying more ATTENTION. For instance the magnolias on the trees were gigantic and the olive trees in the Garden of Peace looked like they were three legged seats, waiting to welcome dignitaries.
Then, along with 100 other waiting tourists, I walked into the palace. And I was greeted by so much glorious wonderfulness in this Heritage Site. The advantage of being part of a tour group is that you have someone to take the iconic Instagram photos of you at this arch and that pillar. I was running solo, so selfies it was. I pulled out my little black book and tried sketching. How many curves on each arch? Eleven. But how do I draw the right perspective? Do you see how the curves entangle with each other to create half moons?
This was too hard! Why had I picked Mujédar architecture as my starting point? There had to be something simpler.
I walked over to the garden, the Patio of Santa Isabel. Columns and trees. Straight lines. Surely I could do that, right? Wrong! But again, I found myself slowing down to take in trivial detail. Like the fact that you can smell the citrus, and each orange on the tree was the size of a softball (way bigger than a tennis ball, cricket or baseball, but smaller than a basketball!) and the pillars mapped to the cyprus trees standing guard.
I began to look for light. And detail. The different colors between the brick that added to the texture and allure of the building. Inscriptions and carvings. On the ceilings in the Palace of the Monarchs I capture the sigils and court of arms of the various houses that married into this influence-wielding family. I struggle to draw the fletch of nine arrows, noting they are a brilliant gold on a navy background. I try to draw arches and the ionic columns.
It was getting to closing time, and I rushed to inhale as much history and capture as much architectural detail as possible.
There never seemed to be enough time.
But then everything changed. I glanced up, searching for a little more detail to include.
.
.
.
And I saw her.
She stood out in her stillness as if highlighted in the middle of the frenetic energy of 2024 tourists clad in Hawaain shirts, hoodies and sneakers. A guide dressed in the period costume of the day.
I closed my eyes, and suddenly I was catapulted back in time. The bricks and ornate windows, the spectacular arches and staircases came alive for me:
The hundreds of Muslim women who had walked these very stairs waiting for the wind to catch them and cool them down.
The thousands of ladies-in-waiting, the intrigue, the gossip that had been whispered against these very walls, echoing within the corridors of power.
The bethrothal celebrations of a young Princess Catherine of Aragon to the Tudor Prince of England so they could block the Portuguese from creating military and trade treaties. When women were chattel, used to establish bonds between two houses.
The generations of women who had quietly wielded power behind the throne, beneath veils, and behind closed doors.
Ten centuries. I’d slowed down. And was humbled. By all that women have endured. And all the self-protection rights they have since fought for, from reproductive freedoms to the right to own their personal credit card and a bank account in their own name.
And the privilege I enjoy in 2024 to be able to travel alone. Did you know that if a woman attended the “free” games in the Roman amphitheater in “Caesaraugusta” (Zaragoza) without her spouse or male relative, she was relinquished to sitting outside of society, among the “things that can talk” (slaves) even if she was the wife of the Roman consul? <the snippets you pick up on good walking tours3!>
All the subtle detail I had been able to capture, because I had slowed down to the speed of a sketch.
There never seemed to be enough time, but then everything changed …
Your turn … How would you answer this prompt?
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Until next week,
Karena
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For better photos and history:
- https://www.zaragoza.es/sede/portal/turismo/post/palacio-de-aljaferia?locale=en
- https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aljafer%C3%ADa
I fully recommend a young group of university grads, particularly Edu from ZaragozaTours
https://zaragoza.tours/
"When is the last time I truly slowed down? Would I know how to?"
Damn, this line hit deep.
I am honored and what a pleasure it is to enjoy these dividends of your work and travels with you here. Thank you for sharing. Never forget Isabella of Castile. :)