Hope and Art: A Tour Through Henry Ford Hospital Cancer Center
“I am a powerhouse of hope.” This sign stands in the lobby of Henry Ford Hospital Cancer Center, the first thing patients see as they arrive for various treatments.
It really got me…Connecting the idea of hope and power. Reflecting for a moment, I believe the times in my life I have felt most hopeless are when I have felt most helpless. When I graduated with my art degree, for example, I didn’t have any hope of being a professional artist. I thought… I can’t even try to be a professional artist. And to that I say…what a load of balogna! As in a full size Oscar Meyer truck full of packages of balogna going down the street. As in how your stomach feels if you were to ever decide to eat balogna… you get the point.
It took a lot of hope to take steps toward that dream - to at least give it a solid, all-in, empowered effort. And even in moments when I nose dived into disappointment, contracts fell through, income was uncertain, and my inspiration to paint was even struggling, I felt empowered knowing I was giving it all I had. And the wins were that much more exciting, too.
Hope is a powerful thing.
But I digress… why was I in Henry Ford Hospital Cancer Center? you may be wondering. This painting is why! It is called “The Gift of Today,” and it is now part of the permanent collection!
This painting is going to be installed in one of the common areas in the Cancer Center. It feels very fitting that this piece will be there. I painted it with a dear family friend, Cynthia, in mind as she battled cancer the past few years. The day this painting was installed was around the time she received a diagnosis that her cancer had spread beyond a scope of treatment, and she began hospice care. An emotional time for all of us who have loved her so much. It meant a lot to me that the timing of this painting installation could be part of our grieving process - a way to continue her legacy in a very small way.
Side note: On a tour through the Cancer Center (there is so much art all over… it’s just wonderful), I met a surgeon who shared something very meaningful with me. I’m paraphrasing, but it was something like this: “As a surgeon I study science and medicine, and of course there are many resources we have to help patients through those means. But more and more studies are showing how much a patient’s environment and mindset have to do with the likelihood of a positive outcome. If they’re in a positive environment, it affects their mindset, which seems to directly affect their body’s ability to fight sickness. It’s not easy to measure scientifically, but we see it every day. This is why art is so important. It changes peoples lives, quite literally.”
Sheesh, what an incredibly, amazingly nice thing to say to an artist. I called Josh on my way home and he said, “Well that has to be the best pep talk ever huh?”
Here are some examples of art in the Cancer Center:
Here I am with my aunt Alicia (I was named after her). I think our Greek genes are strong in this photo. My friends have said we look alike, and then when I show them photos of family in Greece they’ve said “You all definitely look related.” It’s the noses, or maybe the hair, or maybe that we are all within a few inches of the same height. Makes me think back to one time when our entire extended family had a photo taken, and the photographer said, “How are you all the same height? We need to find a set of stairs to fit everyone in the same shot.”
Aunt Alicia is wonderful. She inspires me a lot. She’s one of the hardest workers I know, sees the best in people, doesn’t sweat the small stuff, leads by example (as the director of respiratory therapy for Henry Ford Hospital she does this a lot), always available to be a listening ear, and rides a bike like she’s being chased. And she is a book fairy… every now and then a new book shows up at my door and I assume it is from her. So far the growing collection includes “Crucial Conversations,” “Emotional Intelligence 101,” and a solid stack by Brene Brown. It was so special getting to experience this tour at the Cancer Center together.
As a final thought - Back to the idea of hope…in this painting the sunlight coming through the rain clouds in the sky felt hopeful to me. The flowers blooming in the foreground did as well. I thought of the idea of how a new day feels, how it smells even. So fresh, so bright. It is always a gift for sure.
Xx, have a great one!
Alicia
