Medicine and art have been partnered since the age of Hippocrates, who considered his practice as a union between the art of true living and the art of fine medicine. Most of the contributors and readers of this inaugural issue of Trabeculae will have had some formal training in the art of fine medicine. Some have achieved expertise and now impart their knowledge to the next generation of medical practitioners. Others are students and apprentices, eagerly learning and advancing the boundaries of this protean field. But, apart from those who studied philosophy: who among us has been trained in the art of true living?

The late sage of my small New England high school, its longtime English teacher, Eric Davis, used to send the seniors off to college with a nine-point letter of advice for us young people entering the world out there. Point #9 was precisely about the art of true living: “ ‘To thine own self be true’ is still a better idea than ‘I’ll be anyone you want if only you’ll like me.’ ” Point #8, all of 15 years ago, foreshadowed the spirit of this magazine and all of the creative submissions we received: “Remember that you carry within you the power to desire, to imagine, to breathe life into things you create yourself. It’s not just artists that invent things, you know. Ideas, armies, families, conversations, seacoast towns, all need a creative energy flowing into them if they are to fully exist.”

We hope that Trabeculae will serve as a cultural and artistic commons for the University of Minnesota medical student community to explore the art of true living alongside our training in medicine. The title, recalling the structure of cancellous bone, was chosen to reflect the interwovenness of medicine, art, and the humanities. In this issue, you will peer into a microscope and journey 30,000 feet into the air; travel to India and rural France, and back to a familiar anatomy lab or student lounge; encounter different types of textiles and three-dimensional art; consider life and death; and meet all kinds of human and animal characters.

That diversity of creative expression is the entire point. The community in which it takes place, and the dialogue that it creates, can help us make sense of where we came from before medical school, who we are in this phase of our training, and where we are going. Then, we might learn to fully exist.

ALEXANDER DROZNIN ’28 and MEGAN MENSINGER ’28

Founding Editors