In my mind the practice of medicine was all about the primary care physician, the general internist or the family doctor. This is how I identified myself; this is was what being a physician meant to me and this is the world I left when I left my practice in 1981 for part time work in the emergency room of our city hospital. Although I was still in contact with most of my medical colleagues, I felt estranged from medicine. I was no longer involved as I had been when I was active in our local and state medical societies and in the programs in our teaching hospital. I realized that my priorities had taken me out of that world. Others may not have noticed, but I felt I no longer belonged.
The problem was, I did not feel I belonged to any community of artists. I was a novice, at the very bottom of a steep self learning curve. There were no artist friends and colleagues to replace those I left, and to even call myself an artist was almost unthinkable and impossible to do. I had no studio and my art was simple and limited.
Wash St. pen-ink-markers 1978
For the first few years into this new life I was lost between two worlds, and it was my unshakable belief and trust in what I was doing that allowed me to continue. In the years since, there have been moments of crisis and self doubt, but I’ve never lost that basic trust in my dream.
1 comment:
I still can't imagine doing what you did. Good for you!!
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