For the longest time, I felt stuck in the middle of an endless tug-of-war game between Science and Arts.

I heard all of the discouragement you can possibly hear — especially from my family, friends, mentors, people who’re supposed to do the opposite. I heed their advice — stupid me. They said Arts is a hobby, and that I shouldn’t put that much time into it. If I put more time into other things that matter, I may be doing much more with my life.

And so there were stretches of un-creative months, even years, but that didn’t make me achieve more. Instead, I fell into a pit of depression that not only affected my personal life; it made me lose the drive to pursue Science as well.

I thought I’d leave Science for good and pursue a purely creative life. I wrote; I meditated; I made artworks. As a writer and an artist, 2017-18 were my most prolific years. I’ve submitted my articles to magazines, and they were published. I sold artworks. I even had the chance to share my love for Arts with some students during a workshop. But still, something else was missing. I found myself overworking, over-reading, over-researching topics even though I’ll never use them anywhere. I found myself drawn to Science articles and memorizing facts. I found myself missing the textbooks I’ve left behind. I opened them from time-to-time just to see if I still remember the fundamentals of the Central Dogma of Molecular Biology. And as poured over my books, kneeling in front of my bookshelf in the middle of the night, it hit me. Science had been so engraved in me, I couldn’t separate myself from it, even if I try.

Separate me from the Arts, and I’ll lose my purpose. Separate me from Sciences, and I’ll lose direction. Science and the Arts for me are like body and soul. I can only truly live if both are present in my life.