Hospitals and courthouses are buildings I try to avoid. Nevertheless, in the wee hours of a recent morning, while rolling over in a half-sleep, there was a modest chest pain where you don’t want them to be and a pulse that read like Morse Code. Having just recently had a conversation with my son about my nonchalance towards personal health issues — my attention to such matters not even remotely resembling a responsible routine of medical due diligence — after an hour of go, no, go dithering, an aspirin and a consultation with my pipe, I saddled up and headed for the hospital.

Following the easy flow of familiar roads, completely and beautifully devoid of other vehicles at this graveyard hour, I smiled with gratitude at my extraordinary good fortune to be heading to this particular hospital, in this particular community. If I have to be in a hospital, this is the one for me. The Martha’s Vineyard Hospital. Absolutely world-class medicine, delivered with a grace and mindfulness that transcends the highest levels of professionalism, in a gallery that holds what is for me the most comprehensive collection of artistic imagery and forms that resonate in the very roots of my being — many of them created by dear friends and neighbors. The Martha’s Vineyard Hospital. Where else can one wander about in a hospital johnny joyously encountering one compelling work of art after another? The brilliant outpouring of this community’s collective creativity that forms the hospital’s environment and shapes the context of healing there is astonishing to behold and promotes a deep wellness of one’s soul.

To all who over the years have worked so hard to create this wonderful resource, to those who so graciously and professionally make it work and care for us, and to the artists and friends who refresh our spirit there, my gratitude and respect is beyond measure.

Allen Look
West Tisbury