Color of Life
I recently waited over an hour to see my internist to go over some lab results (everything was great, so why couldn't he tell me over the phone?)where i picked up a copy of Annals of Internal Medicine. I read a poignant story in the "On Being a Doctor" section which left me weeping at the end. I was moved by the doctor's story about losing his wife and i would like to share the part that inspired me and my art making. With permission from the author, Dr. Alan Haber, MD. of Fox Chase Cancer Center, Philadelphia, PA.
In the end, my wife succumbed to her cancer, but it
never defeated her spirit. She found meaning in her days by
reveling in the details of life all around her: the sitcom
escapades and soap-opera dramas of our children’s school
lives, my work successes and struggles, the dynamic repartee
that existed with her siblings and friends, and her loving
relationship with her mother. When hospitalized, my
wife would remember the names of not just her nurses and
physicians but also transport orderlies, x-ray technicians,
and food-service personnel. And not just their names, but
whether they had families and, if so, what were they up to.
I thought naively that this was her way of currying favor
with the people on whom her life depended—that she was
more likely to obtain palatable food if she befriended the
dietitian or that the physical therapy service would work
harder to prevent muscle atrophy if my wife chatted up the
therapist. My wife gently corrected me when I suggested
this as her motivation. “No,” she said simply. “I just want
to capture the color of life around me.” Being welcomed
into the lives of even casual contacts fueled my wife’s passion
to continue her own story. Finally, as for teaching our
children meaningful life lessons, this was accomplished years ago.
Observing my wife facing death was simply an
extension of how she approached life— both were object
lessons in setting goals and striving to achieve them while
demonstrating selflessness; steadfastness; courage; love;
and, perhaps most notably, grace under fire.
The sentence "I just want to capture the color of life around me" resonated and this is a goal i would like to achieve with my paintings. His wife, Marian was a pathologist and i imagine that specimens in her microscopic view would look very much like a color field. But more importantly was her unwavering attitude to think differently about the inevitable. That too was inspiring because as an artist, it is very easy to get stressed about not selling, or not showing and therefore not becoming "famous". We read about artists who reach stardom at a young age like the Young British Artists. Or once we have our MFA, we will be represented by a hot gallery. Expecting or wishing that will leave most of us depressed and unfulfilled. It begs the question, what is really important? The answer lies with each individual but for me, it is to bring something new to painting, to achieve a level of mastery, and to challenge myself to think differently. I've got a long way to go but i liken this path to something from my past, my life in biotechnology. I am in the research and development phase of my painting which could take 20 years before anyone takes notice. The "project" may never prove to be profitable but as long as i can continue to self study (aka basic research), i know that i am in some way advancing my art.
Thank you Dr. Haber for sharing your story. It reminded me why i became a painter and further inspired me to continue with my style of painting the here and now, to absorb my surroundings, my thoughts, and to appreciate each day i paint.
In the end, my wife succumbed to her cancer, but it
never defeated her spirit. She found meaning in her days by
reveling in the details of life all around her: the sitcom
escapades and soap-opera dramas of our children’s school
lives, my work successes and struggles, the dynamic repartee
that existed with her siblings and friends, and her loving
relationship with her mother. When hospitalized, my
wife would remember the names of not just her nurses and
physicians but also transport orderlies, x-ray technicians,
and food-service personnel. And not just their names, but
whether they had families and, if so, what were they up to.
I thought naively that this was her way of currying favor
with the people on whom her life depended—that she was
more likely to obtain palatable food if she befriended the
dietitian or that the physical therapy service would work
harder to prevent muscle atrophy if my wife chatted up the
therapist. My wife gently corrected me when I suggested
this as her motivation. “No,” she said simply. “I just want
to capture the color of life around me.” Being welcomed
into the lives of even casual contacts fueled my wife’s passion
to continue her own story. Finally, as for teaching our
children meaningful life lessons, this was accomplished years ago.
Observing my wife facing death was simply an
extension of how she approached life— both were object
lessons in setting goals and striving to achieve them while
demonstrating selflessness; steadfastness; courage; love;
and, perhaps most notably, grace under fire.
The sentence "I just want to capture the color of life around me" resonated and this is a goal i would like to achieve with my paintings. His wife, Marian was a pathologist and i imagine that specimens in her microscopic view would look very much like a color field. But more importantly was her unwavering attitude to think differently about the inevitable. That too was inspiring because as an artist, it is very easy to get stressed about not selling, or not showing and therefore not becoming "famous". We read about artists who reach stardom at a young age like the Young British Artists. Or once we have our MFA, we will be represented by a hot gallery. Expecting or wishing that will leave most of us depressed and unfulfilled. It begs the question, what is really important? The answer lies with each individual but for me, it is to bring something new to painting, to achieve a level of mastery, and to challenge myself to think differently. I've got a long way to go but i liken this path to something from my past, my life in biotechnology. I am in the research and development phase of my painting which could take 20 years before anyone takes notice. The "project" may never prove to be profitable but as long as i can continue to self study (aka basic research), i know that i am in some way advancing my art.
Thank you Dr. Haber for sharing your story. It reminded me why i became a painter and further inspired me to continue with my style of painting the here and now, to absorb my surroundings, my thoughts, and to appreciate each day i paint.
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