John Paul Corwin, MD – 50th Reunion Essay

John Paul Corwin, MD

49 Windfall Lane

Guilford, Connecticut 06437

flexinib@gmail.com

203-906-9600

Spouse(s): Diana Insolio (1979)

Child(ren): Anna Insolio Corwin, Ph.D. (1981); Emily Insolio Corwin (1985).

Grandchild(ren): Solomon Thomas Magarian (2010); Luna Mae Magarian (2012).

Education: Medical degree from University of Connecticut School of Medicine, 1974. Medical internship at Highland General Alameda County Hospital 1975. Psychiatric Residency from University of Colorado Health Sciences Center, 1978.

Career: Private practice of Psychiatry, a psychotherapy practice, 1978-1990 in Denver, Colorado and 1990 to present in Madison, Connecticut

Avocations: I collect, repair, and sell old fountain pens. I practice calligraphy, flyfish, play tennis, darts, and bird.

College: Branford

Sometimes it seems we humans are not unlike bugs, with just a discrete number of options, biological operations, and choices before our mortal bodies reach our end. I am startled by our limits. Other times I can be equally amazed by the immensity of what we are able to do before that moment arrives. At Yale I majored in English and it seemed the poets were equally concerned with the short time we are allotted. And here we are, fortunate to be experiencing our 50th.

So, we’ve all been trying to figure it out. The first time I remember focusing on smoothness was during a chicken pox high fever at eight years old. I’m not sure if I was awake or dreaming, but I was consumed with keeping the bedsheets above and below me perfectly smooth. It was a fine goal, but there was always a wrinkle.

Next was in 5th grade with the transparent Sheaffer fountain pen fad that swept our school. I was delighted with how smoothly it glided on the paper. I spent my saved allowances in 8th grade on a smoother writing pen. Again in 10th grade. Embarrassed, I kept these expensive pen purchases secret until I was 47 years old when I excitedly discovered through AOL profiles that I was not the only one in the world who just loved fountain pens! I write with them, collect them, repair them, sell them at “fountain pen shows” and have developed significant friendships through them. Their capacity for creating a channel to smoothness has led to practicing Spenserian penmanship. Recently I did my second daughter’s wedding invitations.

Smoothness may have played a small part in my choosing to become a psychiatrist. I figured it was a way of becoming “smoother” within myself and with people by practicing something I enjoyed. It didn’t hurt that I could take notes with a fountain pen while doing psychotherapy.

A good fly fisherman’s cast, of course, is beautifully smooth. I can’t say I’m good at it but I’ve been fly fishing for years. It’s not unlike the smooth motion of an excellent dart thrower’s form, a smooth tennis stroke. Been doing these too.

If it sounds like I’ve been able to do these things alone, I haven’t. What has always rewarded, buffeted, comforted, and smoothed my life has been the connections I’ve been lucky to have with people, friends and family. My mother lives at 97 years old. Diana and I have made marriage work for 39 years. We have two wonderful daughters we are proud of and two delightful grandchildren. I feel lucky to have good friends and to experience a connection with patients I work with.

So I have tried to string a few things together into a smooth illusion of continuity in defiance of this mortal nature of ours.