Tag Archives: mental health

Pre-Order the Art Book Nope, Nope, Nuh-uh! and Get Lost in the Art of Emotions

PRE ORDER DEAL

A few months ago, a friend of mine (hey, Ashley!) connected me with kickass artist Karolina Adams via social media. Would I be interested in helping Karolina edit and organize the interior matter for her forthcoming art table book? I took one look at Karolina’s Instagram page and said yes, because 1) her art is simply phenomenal; and 2) her work is deeply personal and explores issues related to emotional and mental health.

As someone who battles anxiety and depression myself, I was immediately humbled by how raw and beautiful and vulnerable Karolina’s work is. Truly, it speaks to you in such an intimate way. And the stories behind certain pieces? Just incredible and human and relatable. I knew I wanted to be involved in getting this book out into the world, and along the way, I connected with Karolina, who is inspiring and lovely and an absolute pleasure to work with.

Now, Karolina’s finished art book, Nope, Nope, Nuh-uh! The Art of Purging Emotions is available for pre-order! (And if you participate in the pre-order, you also get an exclusive print of a new work called “I am Enough”)

Check out the book trailer for Nope, Nope, Nuh-uh! to learn more and get a glimpse of Karolina’s art: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RWRQ0m4MD2o

Naturally, to celebrate I had to interview Karolina about her book and everything that led to this exciting moment!

 

Tiffany Michelle Brown: If you had to describe your art using five adjectives, what would they be?

Karolina Adams: Introspective, quirky, humorous, emotional, relatable.

TMB: Why did you decide to publish your art book now? 

KA: I’ve been meaning to publish an art book for a while, however, between a packed schedule of gallery shows, art festivals, and life, I could never find the time needed to create the book. COVID-19 came, cancelled all my art shows, and gave me ample time to work on this project. The abundant time was the main reason, however, while designing the book and seeing all my pieces in front of me again (some I forgot I created, I have quite a fat inventory I’ve collected over the 8 years that I’ve been a professional artist), I realized that the messages in most of the work are important and needed right now. For example, “Embracing Patience,” “Time to focus on Moi,” “In God’s Hand,” or “I’m Done.” These are messages that are relevant in these uncertain times. We are isolated from each other, so knowing that there is someone out there that has those same feelings creates a connection that people crave.

book pic2

TMB: Are there any pieces in the book that are extra special to you? If so, why?

KA: Yes. My favorite piece is always the last one I created, as I’m usually still working through those emotions, so I’m still very much connected. Once the emotion dissipates, I disconnect. Not a conscious decision, it just happens naturally.

But there is a piece that is just extra special to me. It’s called “Bound by Love.” That piece speaks to my relationship with my dog that passed last December in 2019. He was a rambunctious and loving dog that stole my heart.

TMB: What does your artistic process look like?

KA: I am an introspective artist, which means I live in my head. I’m constantly checking in with myself and reflecting on what is happening with me internally. I examine my thoughts and my emotions and I “talk” about these experiences and how I deal with them in a clean, minimal, and quirky style. Although these stories are personal, they communicate everyone’s emotions. Every one of us deals with darkness, weakness, limitation, as well as happiness and triumphs, while finding strength in it.

I illustrate what it is to be human, I guess.

Karolina Adams

TMB: What inspires you as an artist? How about as a human being?

KA: I’m inspired by growth. I push myself out of my comfort zone all the time to find change. I love change. This is not to say I take the process of change with a happy-go-lucky attitude; it’s scary but the growth that comes from it is priceless. Every time I reach a level of growth I feel more free, more myself, stronger, kinder, more self-aware, etc. I love being it that state as life around me changes with me. It’s the most interesting thing I’ve ever experienced.

TMB: Many of your pieces tell stories about inner strength, insecurities, mental health, and personal well-being. Naturally, these pieces strike a chord with viewers. What are some of the reactions to your art that have meant the most to you?

KA: I’ve had people open up to me about their secret struggles that they’ve lived with for a while without sharing it with anyone until that point. I had an 80-some-year-old gentleman come to one of my shows. He walked around giving each piece on the wall a close look. When I walked up to him, he had tears in his eyes. I asked which work was making him emotional, and he said he felt all of the work. This was during my “dark” period where I was in the midst of deep depression and anxiety. All of the pieces on the walls were draped in those heavy emotions. This older gentleman told me that he fought in the Vietnam War and he has/had PTSD. Back then, no one talked about it. You dealt with it in private on your own. This man never told this to his kids, friends, or wife. This was the first time he’d ever said anything about it to anyone. This was such a raw and beautiful moment that he gifted me and I think, maybe, I gifted to him. I think because I’m open to “talking” about my own struggles publicly, it gives others “permission” to talk about theirs. I’m very humbled I get to share those exposed moments with people.

Book pic3

TMB: Tell me a bit about your pre-sale offer for Nope, Nope, Nuh-Uh!

KA: First, I’m going to tell you how proud I am of this book. It’s beyond what I had envisioned in my head when I first started on this art book journey. The pre-order includes a print with a great and powerful message that everyone should have in their house, even if only written on a sticky note on their computer. The print is called “I am Enough.” The pre-order ends this Monday, August 3, so you only have a few days left if you’d like to get the print with the book.

You can pre-order the book (and print) here: https://karolinaadams.com/shop/ols/products/preorder-the-nope-nope-nuh-uh-book-with-the-bonus-i-am-enough-print

TMB: What are you hoping people who buy this book will get out of it?

KA: I hope people realize that they are not alone and that no one is without challenges. It’s easy to think that others have an easier life, seeing people’s social media posts. Everyone struggles, but not everyone shows it.

TMB: Where can we see more of your art?

KA: Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/karolina.adams/

Website: https://karolinaadams.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Karolina-Adams-2016126258634343/

TMB: Any future projects on the horizon?

KA: Nothing yet. I want to do nothing for a bit. The book project was quite the elephant to eat, and I am full for now! But follow me on Instagram or FB for new work. I haven’t created artwork in a long while and I’m itching to purge some new emotions.

A Jerk and a Joke: Shopping Adventures in the Time of COVID-19

Grocery Shopping

When we realized our supply of dog waste bags was dwindling, I knew it was coming. When our fresh veggies, Splenda, veggie stock, and coffee started to go, we began making a list. When my husband announced he needed to pick up an important prescription, well, it was time to face the music. We needed to go shopping. You know, during the deadly upswing of a global health crisis.

The last time we stocked up on groceries, we went to each store together. Oh, how things change in a matter of weeks. Now, it’s too risky. Not just for shopping, but for a lot of things.

Our local officials recommend wearing masks when out in public. We’re supposed to clean everything we bring into our home with sanitizer wipes. There are conflicting reports about social distancing; some say six feet is adequate; in others, it’s nowhere near enough. And COVID-19 has crept too close to home already. My husband and I both know people who are sick.

So yeah, we needed to re-evaluate how to go about grocery shopping. We decided the safest way for us to shop right now is to divide and conquer: my husband goes to the first store or two, picks up whatever he can from our list, and then I make a second trip out to look for the items he couldn’t find. We figure this strategy limits the amount of time we spend as individuals in the world that we once knew laid back, beautiful San Diego and has now morphed into a truly terrifying episode of The Twilight Zone.

After my husband brought home round one of our haul and we’d properly cleaned and stored our groceries, it was my turn. I took my Prozac, strapped on a homemade cloth mask, donned some plastic gloves, hiked up the hood of my hoodie, and drove to Von’s looking like I was planning to rob a bank.

Let me tell you, it was an adventure.

During my hour-and-a-half away from home, I experienced prime examples of both of the goodness and the baseness of humanity. Let’s start with the negatives so we can end on the positives, yeah?

As I moved through the grocery store, it became immediately apparent that either people are quite bad at judging six feet of distance…or fear wins over patience the majority of the time. Sadly, I think the latter is most likely.

With a safety-first mentality and a personal dedication to practicing legitimate social distancing, folks should wait a full six feet away for shoppers to vacate certain areas before reaching in to get the green bell pepper they so desperately need, right? But fear makes us take risks – and it’s way sexier than safety.

It’s human nature to want to get the hell out of a potentially threatening situation as soon as possible. So, despite the invisible elephant in the room that is COVID-19, we get close to each other. We reach around folks to scoop up groceries to lessen our time in the store. Ultimately, we’re risking our health, and the health of others, in order to obtain  things we think we need. Either consciously or subconsciously, we’re putting the sum of its parts ahead of the collective whole.

And while that was more of a philosophical observation, I also observed some straight-up nastiness.

Due to the large number of people shopping yesterday, their larger-than-usual hauls, and the social distancing measures put into place by Von’s, checkout lines cascaded down the vast majority of the aisles of the store. Entirely expected, right?

While wandering down the cereal aisle in search of bran flakes, I heard a male voice boom, “Do your damn job!”

I blinked, startled. But yeah, this was happening. A man in one of the checkout lines was berating the folks working at Von’s. (Who, by the way, were doing an absolutely incredible job. I watched them wipe down the conveyor belts, point-of-sale transaction stations, and all surfaces in between each customer. They were doing their best to keep people distanced. They were hustling. They were offering free bags to those who needed them. I can’t imagine how stressful their jobs are right now.)

Y’all, this man was loud. It was clear he wanted to be heard. But…did he seriously think his complaining would magically transport him to the front of the line? Oh sir, I’m so sorry, I see you’ve been waiting. Please, cut in front of all of these people who are being patient and waiting their turn, because you matter so much more than any of them.

A manager came over and told the man he needed to get himself under control and lower his voice. If he didn’t, they would kick him out. This guy was seething. I could feel the bad mojo pouring off him half an aisle’s length away. I honestly was afraid he’d start throwing punches. Luckily, that didn’t happen. Instead, he abandoned his basket and walked out.

To play devil’s advocate, maybe this guy was having a terrible day. Maybe this pandemic has touched him personally. Maybe this Von’s experience was a symptom of a larger issue.

But people who work in grocery stores are literally saving us right now. They are helping. They are putting themselves at risk. They are allowing us the privilege to stock up so we can stay home and hopefully never come into contact with this virus.

I know it’s stressful and scary, y’all. But don’t bite the hand that feeds you. If you do, someday that hand will turn up empty.

Blessedly, my shopping adventure concluded with a much-needed dose of positivity!

As I was loading groceries into my car, a white-haired woman in a RV rolled up next to me, leaned out her window, and asked if I wanted to hear the “ridiculous joke of the day.” Um, of course I did!

And here it is, ladies and gents, a truly corny joke delivered by this sweet stranger who just wanted to spread a little laughter during a crisis.

White-haired woman: Can you name the stinkiest pencil on the market?

Me (after a brow furrow and pause): You know, I don’t think I can.

Lady (after a dramatic pause): The number two!

Y’all, she sang that punchline with unmitigated glee in her voice. She was cracking herself up, and she certainly cracked me up, too! I applauded her as well as I could in my plastic-gloved hands and thanked her for the laugh. After that, she simply wished me a good day and drove off.

It was a brief interaction, a minute tops, but I needed it so badly. I wonder if she could tell. Or perhaps she’s just a woman with a hopeful spirit and I happened to be in the right place at the right time.

But her kind gesture reminded me of why we’re staying home, despite how hard all of this has been and will continue to be. Humans can be great. Interactions with other people can make our days. We naturally crave community.

Don’t get me wrong, COVID-19 is making everything really hard. We’ve started losing people. Everyone’s mental health is compromised. Quite frankly, we’re all living with trauma right now. Our existence, individually and collectively, is a fragile thing.

But on the other side of this, I hope there are still sweet souls who approach complete strangers armed with Dad jokes. Because those people, they remind us that this life—this life together—is worth fighting for.

(Re)finding the Light

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When I had a panic attack right before bed in mid-November 2019, I knew something had to change. Now, I’m no stranger to anxiety. It’s loomed over me for years like a dense fog, obscuring reason and making me feel panicked in a myriad of situations. But I’ve learned how to clear the fog. I take deep yoga breaths. I replace negative thoughts with positive ones. I distract myself with a game, favorite TV show, or puppy cuddles. I tell my husband I’m struggling so we can have a conversation about it.

But this anxiety attack was different for two reasons.

Reason number one: it was completely unprovoked. I was wearing fuzzy socks, book in hand, ready to climb into bed and relax. I probably had a freshly brewed mug of tea in hand. I had exactly zero reasons in that moment to panic. But my body decided it was time for either fight or flight. My heart started hammering. Adrenaline shot through me. I was suddenly massively uncomfortable. And I was really confused about it.

Reason number two: my usual coping mechanisms didn’t work. I focused on my breathing, willing my heartbeat to slow. I sat down and closed my eyes. I told my husband what was happening. And got no relief. None. Zip. Zilch. Nada.

It was as if my mind and body had gone completely rogue.

***

You won’t be surprised to learn that this anxiety anomaly occurred during a particularly stressful season of my life.

My husband and I bought our first house together last year, and our financial situation changed significantly (homeowners, especially those in California, you’ll feel me on this one).

Our dog, Zen, was diagnosed with cancer in his foot after a routine vet appointment, which threw our lives into a tailspin of oncology appointments, impossible decisions, and difficult conversations.

My world as I knew it shifted when my best friend called and said four unimaginable words: “I have breast cancer.”

My dad fell and as a result, required shoulder surgery.

Another dear friend was dealing with important medical tests for her mother coming back inconclusive – multiple times.

There were far too many people I loved fighting battles for their health and the health of their loved ones. (Did I mention these all happened within a month of each other?)

Cherry on top, I had my own bizarre medical condition to investigate, a vein in my armpit that decided to painfully and visibly protrude like an alien ready to pop out of my skin. This required a barrage of tests since my GP took one look and went, “I don’t know what this is.” (Spoiler alert: I’m completely fine and the condition cleared up on its own, but damn, it was weird.)

It’s safe to say stress was wound tightly around me like bubble wrap encasing something fragile. It’s also safe to say I was that something fragile.

Perhaps my right-before-bedtime panic attack was cumulative stress and anxiety. Perhaps the fog had grown so dense and cold and pervasive, I couldn’t see anymore, even if the sun was trying to shine through.

Though I was relatively calm that night everything changed—my pajama pants warm and soft, my little family surrounding me, the comfort of a story in my hand—my body was raging.

Apparently, this was my new normal.

***

I was really nervous to talk to my doctor. I steeled myself and promised myself I wouldn’t cry. I vowed to keep it together.

I’ve never had anything against medication for mental health. I think it’s vital. It’s life-changing for many. It’s incredible science. So many people struggle with various issues, and personal happiness, executive function, the ability to get through a day without some sort of episode is…well, everything.

But for me, there was something pretty sinister about confronting the fact that I couldn’t control this anymore, even though I tried, and it was time to ask for help. Why is it so hard for us to do that? To ask for what we need without reservation or shame or fear?

Over the phone, I told my doctor about the stressers in my life and my newfound inability to keep my anxiety from swallowing me whole. I expressed my interest in treating my anxiety medically.

I can’t articulate how validating it was to hear the genuine compassion in my doctor’s voice. She quickly made recommendations, and her immediate willingness to help me felt like a warm hug. We talked about possible side effects, how I’d start on the lowest dosage possible and adjust, as needed. My prescription would be ready later than day. She’d call me the following week to check in and see how I was feeling. And if this one didn’t work, we’d find one that did.

When I hung up, I finally felt like I could breathe again.

***

Fluoxetine sounds like some sort of sexy element on a distant planet, but really, it’s just Prozac. And taking it has improved my life dramatically.

Fluoxetine is an anti-depressant/anti-anxiety combo and belongs to a group of medicines called selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors (SSRIs). It gives me a daily kick of serotonin, a chemical that is known to transmit messages between nerve cells, is thought to be active in constricting smooth muscles, and (here’s the important part for me) contributes to wellbeing and happiness.

I can happily report that I don’t feel like I’ve been emotionally run over by a Mack truck anymore. I have no side effects. I feel much more like myself. I smile. I crack jokes. I take better care of myself. My executive function is vastly improved. I’m not living in the fear of unprovoked or unexplainable panic attacks.

The moment I knew the medicine was working? When I opened my mouth to sing along with the radio in my car, something I hadn’t done for months. It was this tiny, mundane, seemingly insignificant thing, but for me, it was incredibly profound. Because it was a little slice of joy.

Let’s call this a comeback.

***

Inevitably, someone (perhaps even a handful of people), will tell me I’m brave for telling my story. The social stigma surrounding mental health and the medications that help it, yeah, it sucks. I’m not sharing this because I have guts; I’m sharing it because, empath that I am, I want everyone to know it’s okay not to be okay. I want all of us to feel better. And I want everyone to know it’s okay to want that for yourself, too.

***

The fog isn’t gone entirely. To be honest, I wouldn’t want it to retreat completely, even if I had the choice. Why? I still want to feel things. Every day can’t be unicorns and rainbows, because the marrow of life is sticky and complicated and difficult at times. I’m okay with peaks and valleys as long as I know where I am, who I am, and that this life belongs to me, not some chemical imbalance or misfire in my brain.

And if the sunshine is trying to peek through the fog, you better believe I can see it now.

It’s mine.

And it’s priceless.