A few years ago, I subscribed to MasterClass online classes to enrich myself in both familiar and unfamiliar areas. I viewed the sessions of several writers discussing their craft, including Amanda Gorman, the poet at President Biden's inauguration in 2021 during the pandemic. Recently, I had the opportunity to experience the live recitation of her poems at Carnegie Hall. Taking turns on the stage with Ms. Gorman was Jan Vogler, a renowned cellist. The two art forms, poetry and music, created a powerful combination of different, yet similar, expressions. The sounds Mr. Vogler produced from the cello filled the auditorium with a richness that you could feel in your bones, and the words spoken by Ms. Gorman with brilliant execution resonated loudly against your ears but quieted your soul. Both delivered their gift through melodious rhythms, nearly flawless phrasing, genuine gestures, slow pauses mixed with fast scurries, and palpable passion. I recognized Ms. Gorman's use of techniques she had taught in her Writing and Performing Poetry lessons. The classical sounds of Bach's 18th century fugues for cello and the vibrant voice of a young forthright 21st century poet might have appeared to be a juxtaposition, but in reality, the two artists were surprisingly in synchrony. The best way I am able to describe the whole experience is “art at its best.” During the performance, I reflected on my nursing career and practice and thought, “I think I am an artist, too.”

The art of nursing

We often hear people discuss the art and science of nursing. The science is empirical and emphasized, but the art of nursing is a little more elusive. There are many definitions and descriptions in the literature. Hildegard Peplau noted, “Nursing is an art form, not identical to but rather with elements in common with other art forms, such as the performing arts (dance and music) and the plastic or visual arts (painting and sculpture).... People are moved by music and inspired by paintings; they are touched (literally and figuratively) and sometimes changed at a very personal level by the art nurses practice.”1 And the concept analysis written by Cathleen A. Jenner struck a chord with me: “The art of nursing is the intentional creative use of oneself, based upon knowledge and expertise, to transmit emotion and meaning to another. It is subjective and requires interpretation, sensitivity, imagination, and active participation.”2 Both of these explanations give the nurse the freedom to be oneself, to use one's knowledge and skills in a way that is reflective of them, and to connect with the recipient of their care through purposeful communication. The outcome should have meaning for both the nurse and the patient. Think about the patient who said you made a difference in their life. How did you feel?

The science of nursing

“Writing is easy. All you have to do is cross out the wrong words,” Mark Twain wrote. These words, of course, are an oversimplification of the writing process; writing is challenging. Yet, writing can be considered an artistic expression. This month, in a special issue of The Nurse Practitioner on the Doctor of Nursing Practice (DNP), we feature an article on the DNP project process and outcomes in one university. Several authors report on evidence-based quality improvement projects that demonstrate how they used the knowledge and skills developed during their DNP education to implement a practice change. This month also offers an opportunity to share in another kind of NP art through the National Conference for Nurse Practitioners (NCNP). From April 24 to 26, join us at NCNP in listening to artful expert speakers deliver lectures on the latest topics in NP practice.

Do not hesitate to own, embrace, and share your “art.”

Jamesetta A. Newland, PhD, FNP-BC, FAANP, DPNAP, FAAN

Editor-in-Chief [email protected]

REFERENCES 1. Peplau HE. The art and science of nursing: similarities, differences, and relations. Nurs Sci Q. 1988;1(1):8–15. doi:10.1177/089431848800100105. 2. Jenner CA. The art of nursing: a concept analysis. Nurs Forum. 1997;32(4):5–11. doi:10.1111/j.1744-6198.1997.tb00970.x.