Soft blue walls surround me on all four sides inside the small patient room, broken up by a row of maple cabinets and a painting of two girls floating lazily inside a canoe, feeding ducks on a pond and soaking in the sun. I stare at the painting for a while, it seems ordinary, a type of image I’ve seen many times before, yet the way one of the girls sits, slightly looking back over her shoulders, captures my attention. I cannot stop looking at her, leaning back her arms glow in the sun, and a careless expression caresses her face, just being in the moment. I smile.
My eyes scan the blue walls and I notice they are not painted but rather covered with a textured wallpaper. I run my fingers horizontally across the wallpaper, feeling the ridges under my fingertips. I feel like I’m inside a wrapped gift box. Switching my gaze to the maple cabinets, undoubtedly filled with plenty of gauze and syringes and medical stuff, the metal handles catch my attention. They have a soft curve, ending with a swirl on either end…how appropriate for a women’s clinic. Waiting patiently for my doctor, I feel a sense of peacefulness inside this strangely soothing room. I zone out and meditate until a knock on the door jolts me awake.
While updating my health information for the doctor’s records, I hesitate over the field asking me my occupation. Do I put down my day job; technical illustrator, or do I put down my passion and growing business; artist? I put both down. This is the first time I wrote “artist” in the job field…on any form. It felt very foreign, but also wonderfully liberating. Since I wrote it down, I must finally be living it.
“You are so lucky,” my doctor says, inquiring about my work. I smile and look at her for more clarification. She continues, “Most of us only get to look at things to enjoy them, you get to use your imagination and make it whatever you want.” Wow. What an insightful comment. I feel a warmth fill me, a sense of pride in choosing to pursue and live my passion. She’s right…I am lucky…and grateful.
