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The first time I heard myself described as an artist was through my parent’s stories about the way I enjoyed football games as a kid. Each Friday, I would sit in the bleachers with my back to the field, balancing a carrier full of crayons and a spiral notebook on the stadium seats. While it’s clear that the Friday night lights were meant to light the field, to me, they were there to illuminate my canvas. I found peace with my sketchbook among the chaos, and not even the loud cheers or hot, humid air could disturb me while I worked.

Ari Paiz

Toxoplasma gondii (grey) is a protozoan parasite. It stealthily syphons nutrients from its host from within the host cell (blue) itself. Upon invasion, it establishes a vacuole (yellow) that is critical for parasite replication. I begin presentations with a dynamic animation of the Toxoplasma parasite invading the host cell to quickly establish the three spaces of interest: the intracellular parasite, the vacuole and the host.

Beyond the football stadium, I took a sketch pad and pen everywhere I went. Though I’ve always had drawing in my life, it was always just a way to pass the time and relax rather than something I wanted to pursue formally. Instead, with encouragement from my family, I decided to pursue a career in healthcare. I never felt like I was giving up on my artistic side because I always knew it would accompany me wherever I went.

Indeed, I continued to draw in my undergraduate years, filling the spaces where I once doodled with colorful notes and overly detailed drawings of protein complexes, affinity chromatography and biochemical pathways. Drawing helped me create something tangible out of the abstract scientific concepts I initially struggled to understand.

It wasn’t until my final semester of undergrad that my drawings faced an audience. I volunteered to make an animation of the molecular machine, photosystem II, with the goal of showing system proteins come together to use light energy to split water for photosynthesis.

Since I didn’t own any fancy tech and prefer a paper and pencil, I created this with a whiteboard, some dry-erase markers and my cell phone positioned to record a timelapse of my live drawing. By stepping outside my comfort zone, I knocked down the mental barriers preventing me from marrying my love of science and art. I no longer worried about my lack of technology and inexperience and let my creativity flow freely.

A few years and one degree later, I entered 2020 with a newly acquired status as a first-year graduate student. So, I decided to use my new "adult money" from my graduate student stipend on a digital upgrade: A secondhand iPad and Apple Pencil.

Using these tools, I began making illustrations to learn about my new focus: the parasite Toxoplasma gondii. The power of my Bluetooth pen felt limitless. I could easily manipulate drawings and duplicate entire illustrations with a simple tap. The following year, I began incorporating my digital illustrations and hand-drawn animations into my presentations.

I’ve seen many of my audience members experience an “aha” moment when watching my animations while I explain the concepts, which reassured me that science and art must coexist for science to thrive. Many describe my drawings as a grounding tool, establishing a shared foundation across disciplines. In other less visual talks, much of this knowledge may have gotten lost in an alphabet soup of abbreviations.

Ari Paiz

Toxoplasma gondii (grey) secretes many protein effectors (various colors). One class of effectors, the dense granules, carry out functions in the Toxoplasma replicative vacuole yellow). The process ends with the dense granule releasing effector proteins outside the parasite (left). Right: A subset of these dense granule proteins (various colors) is involved in shaping and developing a network of membranous tubules that make up the host and parasite interface (the black line dividing the host cytosol in blue from the replicative vacuole in yellow).

I’ve also tailored these animations to share my work with family, friends and middle school classrooms. Scientific art should be featured not only in research talks but across all spaces where curiosity thrives. I am proud to be a scientist and creator using visual media to make complex ideas more accessible, in the academic and public setting.

Drawing has always been second nature to me, a natural extension of how I process and communicate ideas. Over time, I’ve come to see art as a way to recharge, but also as a powerful tool for connection and understanding. The visuals I create ground me, giving me confidence while reminding me of the less experienced version of myself, still trying to make sense of complex ideas. Each time I use one of these drawings, I imagine presenting to her — showing her that art has its place in science, right where creativity and curiosity meet.