I am currently taking a short 6-week class from a professional photographer called Shoot-To Share, in which we students receive critical feedback about our work.
One of my goals for this course is to explore the relationship between photography and sculpture. For example, I am thinking about questions such as when does taking a photograph of a sculpture move from documenting the sculpture to being a unique work of art? What ethical responsibility does the photographer, as an artist, have, if any, towards the sculpture? What’s the artistic relationship between 2-dimension digital form (which in my case is usually black and white) to a sculpture’s 3-dimensional form? ( call these questions “artsy questions!)
Anyway, early this morning on a photography scouting drive in Kirkland, Washington, just off of Lake Washington, I noticed a granite sculpture I’ve driven by a thousand times.
I pulled over, took some preliminary shots (such as the one noted above), and came home to do some research on both the sculpture and the sculptor.
Oddly, information was rather hard to find, but it turns out the sculpture, which is called “Winter,” was created by the artist Peter Skinner.
So, who is Peter Skinner?
Mr. Skinner is one of three children of Ned and Kayla Skinner, (a couple who was deeply involved in Seattle civic leadership since the 1940s). He has an impressive creative resume, which isn’t simply limited to being “a sculptor.” Mr. Skinner’s resume also includes being a novelist, playwright, actor, and painter, areas in which he appears to be equally successful and skilled. Also notable is that profits from his creative works go directly towards charity.
So what in the world does all this have to do with physicians and their careers?
Well, I stood beside that sculpture this morning, and it’s an impressive piece of work. Simply put, there is no doubt in my mind that Mr. Skinner could create amazing sculptures like this his entire life, producing a substantial body of focused work.
However, based on the diversity of his work domains, there clearly is something in him that shows an expansive quality. In my opinion, I suspect there is a core creative element within him, which is searching for a multitude of ways to express itself.
And that’s the message for me, and possibly for other physicians.
We all have acquired a core set of special skills and experiences, some of which have been gained over decades. If we are frustrated at some point during our career, we should at least consider the possibility that there are different ways—other than clinical care—in which these can be expressed and in which we can contribute.
So thank you, Mr. Skinner, both for the fabulous sculpture-time I had this morning and for showing me I don’t have to limit myself.