Time to Spin

Today is January 7 and this day is known as Distaff day.  Other than my friend Julia Cooper, I doubt very many of you will celebrate this day in its traditional way.  Today is the day we leave the Christmas holiday behind us and pick up our work tasks again.

Imagine a world where people carry devices wherever they go.  Whether you are a pauper or princess, this is a world where people rarely go out socially without their technology close at hand.   The line between work and personal life is hopelessly blurred. You cannot even take your kids to the park without pulling out your device and following the most recent thread.  Does this sound like our wired society?

I thought so last January when I first wrote about Distaff Day. Well, I am actually describing the world of the average woman in the Middle Ages.  Back then every woman, regardless of age or rank, was expected to fill their day with meaningful work.  So each woman would carry their spindle and distaff  (also called a rock) with them to social occasions.  Sometimes they would even gather for this purpose and it was called “a rocking” I guess the modern equivalent of that would be a “tweet-up.” It was a constant frenzy of thread creation. 

But there were times that it was considered appropriate to put down the spindle and focus on friends, family and spirituality.  People would “unplug” (Or would that be unlace?) during the 12 days of Christmas. I see a pronounced absence of social media voices during the holidays.  After the “Engage in Grace” blogroll of late November our thought leaders in medicine pause and focus their thoughts on home and family.  During the holidays we set down our “spindles.”

Last Distaff Day I was working on a large painting for the great folks at Eliza.  AlexDrane had asked me to paint my vision of the company and its mission.  I painted a large triptych entitled “Eliza.”

In this painting the sky is blue and the ground consists of an overwhelming mass of green cables and threads.  Blue and Green are the corporate colors of health care and they provide the foundation to the piece.  Like the ever-changing technology of our times, this foundation seems to writhe and pulse; almost washing away the characters within the painting.

To the far left, I painted a mother at her spinning wheel.  Here thread leaves the distaff and flows to a large loom at the center of the painting.  The large wooden loom is braced above with a vintage phone receiver.  To the lower left a telephone switchboard operator moves cable after cable connecting calls.  This represents the work Eliza does to connect with patients on the telephone. 

A row of patients and their caregivers stand within the flowing cables.  They stand as though on the assembly line, they are placing their needed medication in pillboxes.  The system at Eliza is trying to help them remember this process in health.

 

To the right and left of the large loom stand two versions of Eliza Doolittle from “My Fair Lady.”  This character is the namesake of the company.  The Eliza on the left is a beautiful maiden holding the coiled phone line in her hands as though spinning at the distaff.  The Eliza on the right is the crone. Her face is haggard and her basket empty.  At the center of the loom a mother figure weaves.  A mother is supposed to run the loom and control the weft and warp of time and technology.  So deeply meshed within this painting is the role of women in care giving that the symbols of this role take up 80% of the painting.

To the lower right a male technician hauls a circuit board across the frame.  Upon its circuits the word Eliza is written in Morse code.   

Beside him and behind him a film reel unspools representing the media Eliza creates to help patient populations. The word Eliza is also written in a swirling font among the cables in the lower center panel.  In this area of the painting, children stare upon the viewer.  

The youngest holds out a smart phone with the word "Eliza." 

These are children are the future beneficiaries of the great work of this company.

In the center behind the loom, the mother figure is time and space itself.  This was not always the case.  In my original attempt at completing this masterpiece, I painted Alex Drane into the composition.   I knew that she was a strong mother in her own family but she was also the public face of Eliza.  She taught me the importance of their work.  She showed me their data sets and thoughtful campaigns to help people attain better health outcomes.

When Alex saw my center panel she felt that I definitely had been inspired by Distaff day.  That would be pronounced Dis-the–Staff.  She was troubled that she took such a prominent place as Eliza Corporation was a team environment.  So I did something a rarely do, I repainted the center figure.

This time I painted Demeter as a mother goddess.  Painting over your own work can be a painful thing, but I said good-bye to Alex.  The new figure was fuller of face with a quiet countenance.  Her hair was the color of straw and bedecked with grains of wheat.  I finished the painting and mailed it to Eliza in May of 2013.

In June at Health Datapalooza, Alex took me quietly aside and told me the she still had trouble with the painting.  She thought the Goddess looked too much like her.  I think I blinked then.  The Goddess was a good 50 pounds heavier than Alex with a completely different nose.       

Alex asked if I would fly to Boston and fix the painting one last time.  On August 2, 2013 I did exactly that.  I walked into the offices of Eliza.  I began to paint while my face felt flushed like that of a child asked to redo a math problem in front of the entire class.  Throughout the day people would stop and talk to me and their energy and warmth came to be the center of the painting. 

The lady in black is crowned with the time the staff of Eliza gave me.  The sun and all the planets of our solar system make her face.  Her hair swirls into a symbolic yin and yang and the mythos of the painting changes.  Both male and female must be in balance to do great work in care giving.  Both leaders and staff must feel part of the whole.

I am glad I was able to fly to Boston and complete the painting.  I was able to present it before Alex and the staff and acknowledge their concerns.  I told them Alex was the public face of Eliza.  So she greatly inspired the piece.  But nothing should stop them from being part of the worldwide conversation in health care.  They should blog, facebook and tweet.  They should become a public face of this amazing organization.  

They should join the Walking Gallery and tell the world their stories.

Last week Suzanne Carter, data analyst from Eliza, did exactly that.  Her jacket addresses the need for affordable hearing aids and is entitled: “Analyzing Whispers.”  

Thank you Suzanne, Alex and all the staff of Eliza for being part of my celebration of Distaff Day.   I look forward to seeing the new threads we create in 2014.

The Angel Eliza: Alex Drane's Jacket

When I was in college in 1992, I was barely getting by.  I pounded the payment turning in application after application, yet I could not find a job.  And after selling all the plasma I was physically and legally able to sell, I got the job of last resort. 

I went to work as a telemarketer. 

I lasted one week.  I did not give up because I was not good at selling, on the contrary, I can sell just about anything.  But I was selling roadside assistance to elderly shut-ins who no longer drove.  Oh, there were the folks who would slam down the receiver uttering a few choice curse words.  That was troubling, but I could not handle the guilt of selling unnecessary policies to lonely seniors who just wanted someone to talk to.  They sounded so sad when I would close the sale and say goodbye.

I have never forgotten that experience, and I thought of it often as I designed Alex Drane’s Jacket: The Angel Eliza.  I painted this for Alex Drane because she is wonderful and kind.  She is one of those truly free spirits you rarely meet in a lifetime.  On top of running Eliza, which uses internet tools and the humble telephone to communicate with patients, she also helped create Engage with Grace and Seduce Health.

When I was a little girl, I would often stay at my Aunt Hilda’s house.  In my room was a little print on the wall.  My Aunt Hilda called it the Guardian Angel.  No one knows the name of the artist but the piece is called “Heilige Schutzenge.”  It always comforted me.  When I thought of the company Eliza, I thought about that picture.

This is the angel Eliza.  Her wings are phone receivers and she loosely holds the coils of the receiver as those coils connect her to the patient.  This angel stares at the viewer inviting them to take part in the solution.  Eliza seems sacred as she floats above the scene and her head is framed with a cloudy halo of binary code.

Below the Angel Eliza, two figures sit on a dilapidated bridge.  To the left side of the picture is a woman in a wheel chair.  Her face is concerned.  She is being reminded to take vital medications by the soothing tones of Eliza.  On the right side of the painting a small boy sits while giving himself and insulin injection.  He has been reminded as well.

This painting is peaceful and kind.  It shows that in the darkest moments of a life there are people looking out for you.  It shows the love of company and its founder.  This is not a company that uses loneliness to sell a product.  This is a company that uses every tool in their arsenal to help engage you in your health.  It is simply beautiful.

Painting a Gift for Alex Drane

I was at a dinner hosted by Mathew Holt and Health 2.0 in June of 2010, when I met Alexandra Drane. She was seated near me. I first saw her from behind. She was a slight woman in a light jacket. Her hair was long with sun kissed streaks. Matthew introduced us and as she spun around I was stunned by the presence of Alex. She was full of vitality and light. Within moments of meeting she told me about her company and her causes. Alexandra founded Eliza. Eliza is a company that uses computer technology and voice recognition software to help people to remember to take their meds and to schedule important medical appointments. She also told me the story of her sister-in-law Za. Za was diagnosed with cancer at the age of 32. She died 7 months later. She spent the last two months of her life in the hospital. She did not want to die hospitalized. Alex spent months fighting the system to try to get Za the best care. In the end, Za’s brother fought the hospital to help Za go home so she could spend her final days with her two-year-old daughter. Finally, Za got to go home and hold her daughter before she died. After this experience Alex, created Engage with Grace. It was a simple concept that involved asking important questions on a power-point slide. What if we showed one slide at conferences that asked five different questions about our end-of-life desires? What if we all took time to ask these questions to our friends and family? Could we have a better experience at the end of our lives?

The next day was Health 2.0 goes to Washington and I had a chance to see Alex speak. She was a dynamic speaker and she did a wonderful presentation of Eliza. I had a chance to talk with her that day and she said at some point she would like to commission a painting. We parted ways and time passed before I would see Alex again.

In October of 2010, I saw Alex at Health 2.0. She would tell me, once again, that she would like a painting. Perhaps a jacket like her friend Roni Zeiger had commissioned, or perhaps a painting for her father. We parted ways and agreed I would soon paint for her.

While attending Health Camp DC in November, Alex was emailing me about the painting. I answered her questions while listening to an unconference presentation. I was seated near two Eliza employees. I switched sessions and as the talk turned to drug compliance, I noticed that no one in my session mentioned the benefits of Eliza. I asked “Where are the Eliza folks?” And I as texted about the power of medical paintings with Alex, I spoke of the power of Eliza before a diverse group of medical professionals. Soon one of the Eliza staff came in and took over describing the system, and Alex told me the painting would be for her Father.

Later in November, Alex called me to describe her father. I was on jury duty at the time. During our short lunch recess, I stayed in the deliberation room and spoke with Alex about her father Douglas Drane. She described him as a loving, caring and energetic man devoted to many elements of alternative medicine… and he loved Dragons. Then the idea came to me, it would not be one painting, it would be two. This would be a juxtaposition piece that focused on balance.

This is “West meets East.” It consists of two 18x24 canvases. The background field is a deep bluish purple. Within this field, swirls of white form an infinity loop.

The left canvas focuses on elements in Western medicine, so the swirls of white on this side are suffused with pills and tablets. These are the drugs that can save a life or prolong it. A doctor looms over the patient in this scene. A look of concern is on his face as he provides chest compressions to our unconscious patient. He is trying desperately to save a life. The top half of the Doctors head is cut off in the frame. Is this case of a poorly framed shot? Or is this mechanical response on the part of the medical professional? Is this action without thought? The patient lays with her head dangling and her face serene. Her breasts are gone and are replaced with a heart shaped cavity in her chest. A stylized version of Alex Drane stares out at the viewer to the right of the doctor. Her hand is twisted and placed with the heart shaped cavity. Protruding from the skin of Alex’s arm is a child’s slide. Here is the One Slide Project. Here are the end-of-life questions that you should share with your family. Does this patient want to be brought back? Is this what she wanted at the end of her life? The patient’s body is supported by a western-style dragon. This dragon is reptilian and cold. It is green and blue. It is the color of money. It stands inside its lair; the hoarded loot within its claws are files upon files of medical records. Each record says EMR, EMR, EMR; and this dragon does not want to share its treasure. It is breathing a small tongue of flame preparing to destroy all that it cannot keep as its own.

In the right canvas the infinity swirls flow into an Australian aboriginal dot motif. This is dream time. This is where the soul meets the body. A massage therapist stands above our patient and rubs her back. She is serene and calm. Acupuncture needles are arrayed upon her face and an elongated needle upon her back forms a stylized caduceus. The wings of the caduceus are formed by the handprints of a child. The caduceus represents medicine, but also warns against false treatment. For not all alternative therapies are helpful, and some programs are more about thievery and profits, then health and healing. Our patient’s head is surrounded by a strong aura. Above this aura a Rosary is superimposed on the infinite sky. Is it Rosary beads and a Cross? Or is Orion and a compass rose? Where does faith reside within medicine and must it be disguised? Beside our patient’s face a bamboo shoot heroically grows out of our infinite swirls. Where is nature within medicine and how can green and growing things soothe the soul? This patient is supported by an eastern-style dragon. He is the red of fire, energy and passion. This dragon does not need to breathe flame, for he is flame itself. He is staring at his western counterpart with concern. He has no wish to destroy but desires to work in concert with the west.

These two paintings are meant to be shown together, for they are about balance. Patients will get the best care when we embrace the treatment path that is best for each patient. That means asking questions, answering questions and sharing information. Neither side is better than the other, but each part makes the whole.