If the constantly changing schedule of a third-year medical student has taught me anything, it has challenged me to branch out from my comfort zone and pushed me to seek out a different creative medium than what I am used to. While I am very familiar and comfortable with inkwork, having completed projects both casually and for my undergraduate art courses, it has been more than a decade since I’ve picked up watercolors.
I created this piece in fall 2020, during my last semester as an undergraduate student. I wanted to tie my interests of geriatrics and dementia with my passion for ceramics.
Last year I unearthed my parents’ old Pentax point-and-shoot that they purchased in the mid 1990s. Upon asking them about the camera, my parents told me about fond memories that they had using it to capture their first few years in a new and foreign land. To all of our surprises, it still worked! I quickly purchased some film and took the camera with me on family trips. When I got scans of my pictures back, I was astounded.
You’ve heard it said that no man is an island, but during COVID’s prolonged quarantine, it was difficult not to identify with that floating, isolated unit of life. As minutes turned into weeks, I found myself starving for the very sense of connection which Maslow postulated was a human need. When quarantine ended, I stumbled out into the world with a cautious desperation to rekindle relationships. I participated in conversations with vigor and listened intently. Yet, despite my enthusiasm, I still felt… distant. Sure, there was physically 6 feet of distance, but I found myself confronting another barrier. How could I connect with someone while half their face was covered?
Inspired by the book series Red Rising by Pierce Brown.
Med Intima 