My earliest memories are of taking my father's art supplies and making drawings on the blank page of one of his many books. This may be why I was never praised for my early artistic efforts. My father was a freelance commercial artist who worked on Madison Ave. It never occurred to me to become an artist until years later.

Growing up in New York City, my hangouts included the Museum of Modern Art and the Metropolitan Museum of Art, among other wonderful cultural centers. In the summer, between High School and College, I went to the Art Students League with a friend. He became an artist and is now teaching and exhibiting in Boston. I became a doctor and am practicing and occasionally exhibiting in Vacaville, California.

Now 30 years have passed and to show for it, I have thousands of pages of patient chart notes that are illustrated. These are small drawings of body parts colored with blue or red or yellow pencils. Arrows and lines connect words. It is simply easier for me to draw than it is to write. It is also more fun.

Of my early interest in art, only my doodles survived until I started taking classes at the Mendocino Art Center in 1976. The class that finally pushed me into the world of painting was Judith Hale's seminar on abstract expressionism.

I set up an art studio in the middle of my house so that I couldn't walk by without fussing with some project. For me, convenience is essential. Over the next 15 years, the size of this area has grown.

Until just the last few years, I thought of art and medicine as conflicting and incompatible. I started to become resentful of not having time to paint. During that period I wanted to change occupations and start from scratch as an artist.

Now I believe that I have the right balance for my own needs and values. Medicine and art occupy about equal parts of my day. I see them now as complementary; each one makes the other possible. If I did either one full time, I would probably be bored and crazy, or poor and crazy.

The patient and the painting share certain qualities that demand a degree of inventiveness, if not creativity. Both are works in progress, the outcome of which is never predictable. Both require taking risks and using intuition. Whether practicing art or medicine, I must make decisions and guesses as I go along. With this uncertainty comes a feeling of both anxiety and discovery. Often humor adds just the right touch to the interaction with a patient, as a random color adds balance to a painting. Both medicine and art leave me feeling exuberant or defeated, filled up or bored.

My art is a mix of different styles and mediums. I am a generalist. The same is true of my way of practicing medicine. I am a general internist. But there is a big difference in approach between these two fields. In one it is possible to experiment and invent, in the other there are “standards of practice” from which a doctor must not stray. In art “rules” are to be stretched and originality is what the artist strives for. The artist is completely free, he is his own authority, and his studio is his kingdom. This freedom and autonomy is just the antidote for a day at the office, where I must tow the line.

I am showing my art on the web because of a unique opportunity. My son, Steven, who is one of my best fans, is also a software developer by profession. His work on the web site and his encouragement is the reason this project came to be. I cannot express my appreciation enough.

These paintings are, for the most part, available for sale. The price asked is negotiable at this point, because, frankly, I don't know the value of my work. Send a comment, make an offer or a suggestion by e-mail if you like.

Thank You

Barry Orvell