Preeya Desh, MD

Katie Mechler

“I used to be embarrassed by the creative side of me and now I embrace it. I think those parts of me are the secret ingredient to making me a better doctor and human.”

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Artist Q&A

How did you get started with your art, and describe if it has changed over your hospice and palliative care career?

I started drawing and painting in elementary school, but this was put aside when I got busy with academic and career goals. It wasn’t until I encountered a difficult period during my pediatric hematology oncology fellowship that I took out my brushes and paints as an outlet for my self-doubt and angst. I painted a very basic picture of a couple’s silhouette, but I remember feeling proud that I had unearthed a part of me that I had buried for so long. I hung it up in my office and would look at it to draw strength from the realization: I am good at more than one thing. During that fellowship, I was diagnosed with a health problem that led me to [take] extended medical leave. I struggled with identity during that time—who am I if I am not practicing as a doctor? I started experimenting with labels: I am a painter. I am a poet. I am a yogi. I am a mother. I learned to embrace both creativity and order and developed an understanding that I am both type A and B, the medical scientist and the artist. It was also in this leave that I participated in a church mission trip to a palliative care hospital in India. I knew about palliative care through my pediatric oncology work, so I helped them expand their palliative care training by bringing over medical teams. I facilitated conferences and training that used creative arts therapy. I started a non-profit, Wabi Sabi Health Foundation, and partnered with local agencies in order to continue these popular classes. This experience grew my desire to do palliative care, and I eventually went back for the HPM fellowship. I am now a fellowship program director and am guiding my fellows to incorporate their creativity into their work.

What is your creative process?

The funny thing about art is you have to be inspired by something and then create space to do it. I usually use photographs I have taken on our family vacations. Painting these takes me back to epic trips to the mountains in Banff, the ancient palaces of India, the hills of Norway, or closer to home on the beaches of Palm Beach. The process feels ritualistic to me. I set aside time, find the right place in my house, then I bring out the tubes of paint and lay them out and mix them. I play Nina Simone or Rachmaninoff and slip into a flow state, fully submerged and lost in the process. I let the colors come together on the canvas. It surprises me when what I see in my head comes to life. I use oils because I love how it glides and blends. It creates a softness that I can’t replicate with acrylics. It also forces me to step back and really see what is there. I am always going back and adjusting small details, which will sometimes alter the whole painting. I remember what my middle school art teacher used to tell me: “There are no mistakes in art.”

Describe your art in seven words or less.

Get lost in the flow for healing.

What do you want people to take away from your art?

I want people to take away the story as well as the journey and process behind a painting. It’s my journey from self-identifying only as a doctor to now realizing I am more than that. It’s really important to show those other parts of me. I used to be embarrassed by the creative side of me and now I embrace it. I think those parts of me are the secret ingredient to making me a better doctor and human.

What are your future plans for your art?

I want to keep setting small goals. I once made a goal to be able to paint ocean scenes. My next goal is to do faces and portraits. I am also proud to have inspired my daughter into being interested in art—she is the one teaching me how to draw eyes. I am very much a self-taught amateur. I just want to keep doing it, and I’m planning to start artistic projects with my fellows as well. 

How do you deal with perfectionism and the inner critic in your art?

I have to be intentional about this and force myself to put the paint brush down when it is completed. The inner critic in me keeps saying there is more that can be done to make it better. My higher self says it is beautiful, and it is ok to stop. This is an analogy for life as well.

What advice do you have for your younger self, or what do you want our readers to know?

I will say don’t shut down creativity; cultivate it and grow it. It’s okay to identify with it in any form. I think even taking photographs with your phone creates artistic moments—it forces you to look at things from a new perspective or at a detail you would have breezed past. That is what art is, isn’t it? Seeing the world slowly? We do better clinical and academic work when we are able to be creative. Following the exact path of someone else or what someone expects of you closes you off, but allowing yourself to think in another way, a creative way, helps you be a better doctor and a more compassionate human being.

This interview has been edited.

Calling all AAHPM member artists: painters, photographers, sculptors, potters, quilters, digital artists, cartoonists, even doodlers—casual or serious creators of any kind!

Artist in Residence is a new column that seeks to highlight AAHPM members who create art as part of their professional or private lives and wish to share said art with the AAHPM community to encourage connection and healing. Email [email protected] if you would like to be considered for the next Artist in Residence.