Fair to say, I have never considered myself an artist. Growing up my mom clearly prioritized art and my exposure to it. In grade school, we had limited resources, and paying admission to the art museum was not in our budget. The Seattle Art Museum had one free day per month, the first Thursday of the month, during the school day, it was free to go to the museum. I always wondered why the free days were in the middle of the week, when kids were supposed to be in school, instead of on a Saturday or a Sunday when more people could go. So every month, my mother would pull me out of school to go to the art museum. In Hawaii, we would go to the beach instead. She understood the relationship between nature and art. Over the years many teachers complained that I was missing school, but my mom was quite clear, she said I was learning more from going to the museum and other unique experiences than I would learn sitting at school. She was right. In the time before the internet and cell phones, I saw a whole new world inside museums and on a variety of outdoor adventures. It instilled in me a strong desire to travel to see art in its original environment.
When I finally got my dream to travel to Europe at 21, the summer before I started medical school, I was on a strict budget. Alas, there were no free days when I got there so all of my “spare cash” went entirely to museum admissions! 30 years later I still remember the art I was exposed to on that first trip. Certain pieces/places are burned in my memory: Monet’s waterlilies -full panels, displayed in on oval room at the Musée de l'Orangerie or an entire museum just for Rodin. Everywhere I went I met people from all over the world who had come together to witness a certain piece or place of art. The desire to make art, see art, and interact with art crosses cultural boundary’s and can bring us all together.
Then I entered medical school. In the 90’s medical school did not teach you how to be healthy or how to live a balanced life. Instead, there was a firehose of information to be memorized so when you got out you could “first do no harm” and then do your best. This does not leave a lot of time for eating well, exercising or supporting your spirit by exploring a world of art. Despite this, I found every opportunity to check in on my local museums and traveling exhibits, in those years it was often when my mom or family came to visit. I started collecting art from the places I visited and from friends and family that were artists. My mom always encouraged me to do art when we were visiting together. I was often reluctant as she was clearly good at whatever we were trying to make and I was perpetually learning and never really liked the results. But she could get me to try and it was always fun.
In 1999, I moved to Boston and by happenstance joined Dr. Arthur Wills, III in his downtown medical practice. Dr. Wills was a true supporter of the arts and the entire office was floor to ceiling original art from 5 artists he helped. This was the most visible link between art and the practice of medicine outside of anatomy drawings that I had seen. Working among original works of art had a positive effect on my practice of medicine. I feel the unique surroundings supported my individual style of medicine. I started to have some free time and hosted art nights for my friends. I loved collage, lacking the confidence to paint, but cut and paste felt adventurous in its own way. I was still feeling confined by traditional boundaries, art still felt like something primarily to be admired or pondered.
Then my brother, niece and nephew stepped in. In 2005, each for their own reason, they wanted me to go to Burning Man. After 6 months, they finally convinced me to brave the desert environment, in those years you could get a ticket at the gate and drive right in. My understanding of art cosmically shifted. Burning man allowed me to see the magic of interaction. I had grown up on with museums steeped with seriousness and reverence and sign after sign of “do not touch.” Finally I had found a culture of artists making creations that could be used or played with. Function and form merged around me and I could see art everywhere. Space was art. Some pieces only worked with your participation and some were planned to be enjoyed only in the moment. At Burning Man nothing would be left to sit in a museum. Fire and ash make art. Ultimately, experience itself is art. I was finally home.
Many years have past and I am now surrounded by a family of artists. I am a muse for my love Finn and have co-created many pieces of public art. My daughters continue to talk me into “trying” and I am a little less hard on myself in looking at my own creations. We have created an oasis here on Owl Hill. We have space to create and the rest is filled with works of art, some you can use and play with, a few are just to look at. I surround myself with creations at in my office as well. One of my exam rooms has two of my mom’s paintings of her backyard in Indianola. Everyday I sit in that room as I see people and am reminded of my mom, I can even smell the cedars if I stare at the paintings and pause long enough. My second room has local art that inspires me. I often speak to my patients about public art and creative use of public spaces. I feel I am a better physician because of my exposure to a wide variety of art and of self expression. Art helps me see creative solutions for promoting healthy life choices.
There is art in my medicine, but medicine is not my art. My art comes through in the creative ways I continually find to communicate medical knowledge to everyone individually. There is the artistic dance between multiple pressures of cost, insurance, and quality leading to a struggle to provide the best care to everyone equally. That I still do this with a smile is a testament to my ability for the art of acting. To see this you would have to come to my office. Instead, I will use these pages to share the alternative ways I have found for self-expression, through stories, videos and photos. I hope to share some of my roots, my current work and my future dreams. I think life feels fuller, more connected and more meaningful when I can let the art shine through.
Love and light,
Parra
