v.autumn.2012

Hello and welcome to The Body Electric's first issue of the 2012-2013 academic year. To those of you experiencing TBE for the first time, I can assure you that the joys of distraction neatly packaged and enshrined here will make even the most gruesome Derm pictures or tongue-twisting metabolism lectures but a distant memory. So that we are all up to speed, you should know that the works to follow are all products of the imagination of UMN med students. You know them - they sit next to you in class. Or maybe they pass you on the floor at 4:30 AM, all of you half asleep and careening from room to room asking - F/C/S last night?

This is an opportunity to know them a little better so that the next time you run into each other you can say, "I like what you did there." You might smile, or just think, or look up at the clock and suddenly realize it's an hour later than you thought. (Psych! You forgot to set your clock back.) Or maybe you will be inspired to take up a little project of your own, and if you do - please share. There's nothing wrong with a little distraction.

This issue features a profile of Amanda Murphy, the second year student who has expanded her artistic approach to tackle medical themes. It features poetry from Benjamin Braus and Kathryn Weaver, and wonderful music by Phil Lee. As always, there are some tidbits from Neil and Aaron. Neil did a nice overhaul of the site's format that we would love to get feedback on, and Aaron added some verses to make this issue a poetry hat-trick. The memes got such a good response this spring that we decided to close out with another one by Neil.

So read on. Enjoy! Find inspiration and know you are among friends.

- neil and aaron

Photos by Neil Siekman

v.autumn.i

Press Play:

TBE tip of the day - The Body Electric is best savored with an accompanying soundtrack. Check out this song from MS3 Phil Lee while you peruse the Autumn 2012 issue. I give you: Phil & Max - The Long Play.

v.autumn.ii

Painting Amanda Murphy
By Aaron Crosby, M3

Jackson Pollock once said that "every good artist paints what he is." Amanda Murphy, featured this month in The Body Electric for her outstanding contributions to TBE the last two years, is no exception. Amanda was kind enough to answer a few questions for TBE regarding her painting, her path to medicine, and the interplay between the two.

Two Roses - Amanda Murphy (Oil on canvas) 

I had the pleasure of meeting Amanda for the first time when serendipity had us working in the same emergency room - I on my core Emergency Medicine clerkship, and Amanda on her 2nd year introduction to Acute Care clerkship.  I remember seeing her leaning against a counter in her crisp, white student jacket. She was reading from a large red text, looking every bit the part of student doctor as she squeezed in a little extra EKG practice prior to her first block of exams. I glimpsed her name on the shiny little placards we are all issued by the medical school. I exclaimed, "You paint, don't you?"

Owed to the lab rat - Amanda Murphy (Pen and Marker)

And indeed she does. Very well. Her works seamlessly blend the beautiful with the technical. Her pieces share a dreamlike quality with the work of some her favorite masters, like Jackson Pollock, Vincent van Gogh, Edgar Degas and Claude Monet. Amanda's images draw on a wide range of themes - from her take on classic still-life pieces to interpretations of abstract medical concepts. 

It should come as no surprise that the thrill of creation caught her early on in life. "My interests in the arts were sparked at a young age by my uncle, who is an architect/designer in Santa Monica, CA." This is not to say she always knew she wanted to be a painter. In fact, she had a veritable potpourri of interests and passions growing up. "I actually envisioned myself in countless professions ranging from political cartoonist or freelance writer, to international/humanitarian lawyer." 

There was one thing that was a constant during her education - she would not back down from a challenge. "I recall an instance during my sophomore year of high school when my English teacher asked the class, 'How many of you honestly believe that you will go to medical school?' My arm shot up into the air pretty quickly." So even if she had many different visions for her life, "maybe subconsciously I always knew that I wanted to become a physician."

Represent your city - Amanda Murphy (Pen and Marker)

While Amanda has chosen a career as a physician, there is no denying that she remains as much of an artist as ever. When she is working on a piece, she is 100% focused. "I usually dedicate my undivided attention to a painting, so I prefer to paint alone. I paint in my apartment while listening to the radio or iTunes." For her, finding the time to create is not a challenge once she is invested in a project. "If I get really into a piece, I will stay up all night," she tells me, "even spend an entire weekend working non-stop."

Most medical students find the work of building themselves into competent doctors to be challenging enough, even without the added task of spending extra time and emotional energy on a passion as consuming as art is for Amanda, but Amanda doesn't see her art as a burden - in fact, she views it as being quite the opposite. "Painting is a great outlet for me," she says. She feels both medicine and art have bettered her, as she has grown to have a "greater appreciation for the gift of as well as the mystery of life." She does acknowledge that medicine has changed her art somewhat by making it more intellectual, a change most apparent in my personal favorite of her drawings, the surreal Posterior MI. "The biggest change in my art that I have noticed is in my drawings, she says, "My main audience now is comprised of other medical students, therefore I feel that I can express complex ideas . . . that can be appreciated by my peers."

Posterior MI - Amanda Murphy

The Body Electric thanks Amanda Murphy as she paints and draws what she is - physician-in-training, artist.

v.autumn.iii

Night-Side
by Benjamin Braus, M3

Once upon a time
Frog skin was known
As the material of the moon
A luminous totem
Of resurrection and decay
And perhaps today
Under misfortune's penumbra
That incandescent stroma
Still might guide us
As we abide
In darkness
Amid rumours of recovery
Which we inevitably anticipate
No matter how speckled
Slippery, or gray

v.autumn.iv

Death Stalks the Sushi Bar

Kathryn Weaver, M2

The smell of salty fish fills up the room.

The man sits, unaware of his sealed doom.

With his two chopsticks he manipulates

The sushi to extract it from his plate.

A figure enters, hidden from all sight,

While pulling with the shadows of the night.

The spirit hovers near, death in disguise,

Concealing in its cloak the man's demise.

Death searches his robe, visible to none,

Revealing from his cloak a faint, small gun.

Death points the gun straight at the man’s warm heart

And aims to shoot a small, metallic dart.

The wounded man collapses to the floor.His lungs inhaling gulps of air no more.The sushi stops the man from drawing breathAnd gives the man his unexpected death.

v.autumn.v

The Code

By Aaron Crosby, M3

Incessant beeping in this room.

Screw shut your eyes but for that one

glimpse of these jagged cracks of doom.

Electric waves of her crumbling

heart are retraced there in her eyes,

blue and ready.  Perched high, her mask’s

wide maw sets to devour her cries

like carrion.  Her chest, she turns

to unstick the walls to bring her

one last gasp of ice cold relief.

Metal dangles from the finger

of the arbiter, the smooth blade

whose long, cold curve the power holds

to arrest her descent and save

with one small lift before she folds.

She finds her brother at the door.

One puff into her sodden lungs,

and one and one and one and one,

but how many breaths to expunge

the mounds of cancer there entwined?

They speak secret their own language

whose syntax and style long ago

they honed in joyful garden shouts

to hide and seek the passing day.

What she says I cannot transcribe

or understand before he waves his hand.

No more. Attending angels slide

to wrap him in warm embraces

and bear her weight in arms more sure.

Endless beeps still drip like water.

Though stiff her body, they endure.

Deciphered here they seem to say:

Love life outstrips along the way.

v.autumn.end

Auf Wiedersehen! Thank you for reading.