The Shallot: Journal of Mental Health, Art, and Literature (Vol. 1, No. 2)

The Shallot

Journal of mental health, art, and literature

Pieces of Mind Natalia Tcherniak

9 WORKS

Craving to Create 10 Alessandra Ensch

Olive Drawing 11 Olive Hoskins

Derby Stance 12 Jenny Solem

Poker Voice 13 Hugh Findlay

Forest Bathing 14 Rebecca Thorne

Feeding Beauty 16 Avesha Michael

Morning Hike 17 Brittany Josie

Pieces of Mind 18 Natalia Tcherniak

EMBRACE VIBRANT SUMMER 19 Peter Devonald

Mornings in the mountains, it’s time to run 20 Becky Benelli

Mother Nature 21 Deja Hartsfield

distilled 22 Jessa Bruce

Train Travel 23 James B. Nicola

Study of a Land I’ve Never Known 24 Anam Tariq

Untitled 25 Amy “Tovah” Shafran

Raw (I), Raw (II) 26 Weronika Wrzosek

Tangled Thoughts 28 Martina Teeny Collender

Hanging on by a Thread 29 Julie Kitzes

Needlepoint Chair 30 Diana Raab

Art - an umbrella in the storm of my mind 31 Srimoyee Acharya

Out With the Old 32 Todd Matson

WHETHER HINT OF WEATHER BIPOLARITY? 34 Gerard Sarnat

another reality 36 Sergey Dobrynov

Dare to Downsize 37 Elizabeth Sunshine Yellow Socks 38 Tasneem Dairywala

Family Game Night + Live-Play-Love 39 Navilan Vyas

Cosmos 40 Harper Hazelmare

Freedom from Anxiety through Music 41 Ginny S. Gillikin Courage 42 Aviva Derenowski

Into the Calm 43 TINSTY

44 ARTIST BIOS

Letter from the editor

As I write this, the temperature where I live has started to retreat into the earth. The cold air bites my nose, still playfully now, but soon it will feel less pleasant. What keeps me happy in winter? I love to spend time with my family, my pets, and myself. There is nothing quite like curling up to read a good book on a cold winter morning, coffee in hand, or sitting down to write out my feelings in poetry, feeling the words flow through me and uplift my soul.

Like me, many of our artists find energy from activities that recharge them. In this edition, we explore our activities and hobbies; what brings us happiness even in the dark or the cold. Join us as we journey through activities that bring us joy – we elevate our mood with pottery and poetry. Come with us as we create art and enjoy nature. Even in winter, there is much to enjoy in the outdoors. Mother Nature can offer us so much. I like to take walks with my dog, even taking a forest hike here and there. Exercise helps ground me and makes me feel like everything is going to be okay. A walk or a run can do wonders to clear your mind and help you let your anxiety melt, like snow in the spring.

Putting your feet or skates to the road, pen to paper, thread to the needle, or brush to canvas can restore your sense of internal balance. Breathe in, breathe out – let meditation, whether formal or informal, clear your mind. Have the courage to let the pressure fade away; it has no more influence on you. Be one with nature and one with yourself. Even writing this, I feel myself calming down. I start to enjoy the snow coming down outside my window.

Tomorrow is a Saturday for me – I’ll read a book (or maybe listen to one!), practice some yoga, cook some delicious food, and enjoy the atmosphere of a day off. I look forward to the holiday season and the time with family that it will bring. A family game night can be a balm for the soul.

As we navigate into winter, be sure to set aside time for yourself to do what makes you happy. Happiness can be fragile and difficult to achieve, so time spent doing activities or hobbies that energize you can transform your day.

Is it Saturday where you are? If not, it will be soon. Take heart. Take our best wishes with you as you read this issue of The Shallot. Together, let’s spend time doing what we love.

Appreciate yourself; take care of yourself.

Sending peace, Em Hendrickson

works

Craving to Create Alessandra Ensch

The fear I feel in my hands as I mold the clay of life turns every trembling touch into solid stone. Unrelenting. Unbendable. Unworkable.

Its pressure like snakes wrapped around my throat, Medusa of crafting. But she’s a gentle creature, misunderstood. Cursed with a fate to hide from the world. A fate that I will not choose.

So I pick up the clay, now hot to the touch. My palms buzzing with the excitement to create. Fingers itching with desire, one craving that cannot be ignored. And the clay follows my touch, a faithful student to its teacher. With every brush the fear subsides. With every stroke my throat opens, singing with the movement of the clay. Folding creasing, forming itself into a divine piece of pottery. A cup, a bowl, a vessel for my thoughts. A physical representation, a detail in a picture. All molded with my hands and the fear that could not stop me.

Acrylic paint and black ink pen on canvas paper

Olive Drawing Olive Hoskins

During the colder months, drawing helps me take note of my surroundings. I like to draw the changing leaves, snow falling, and those first signs of spring because it keeps me grounded. For me, drawing has always been a practice brimming with observation and deep appreciation. – Olive Hoskins

Ink and marker on watercolor paper

Derby Stance

Jenny Solem

Being in motion helps my thoughts and triggers calm down.

– Jenny Solem

Poker Voice

Hugh Findlay

After surgery and three months of rehab, I finally venture out to the neighborhood poker game. A few rounds and beers in, I become more talkative. Until finally a fellow with thenutssays “Your voice sure sounds different.”

I am puzzled and say I’m still on medication, but I don’t believe that is the reason. Then, while grumbling aloud about a bad beat against an ace-high flush, I hear my new voice:

a low frothy gravel, mixed in with the old familiar tones, adding an edge of pristine clarity — much like my father’s as he taught me chess or boxing or how to tune a carburetor — the voice of resplendent, by-God worldly wisdom!

It was a recipe of sound with a new ingredient that I had never known was missing; a new and exotic spice popping in the heated pan of my voice box, as if another person had grown inside of me.

I think I will keep this voice and call it my own. Yes, I will speak it to the world with absolute authority. All my friends and family will be keen listeners. My dog and cat will not recognize me. I will have to change my wardrobe and rearrange the furniture.

So when I touch my face, I will be a welcome stranger, and I will glory in learning to love my new self all over again. But then, it might just be the medicine talking. In which case, I’ll shut up and deal.

Forest Bathing

Rebecca Thorne

A3

Out in nature is where I have always felt free. It brings a sense of stillness and peace. I have spent many hours running or walking in our local forests and trees are something I love to draw. There is something very symbolic about a tree with deep roots, standing tall against all weathers.

Fineliner on Arches rough watercolor paper,

– Rebecca Thorne

Feeding Beauty

Avesha Michael

when the tree loses the ground gains their soft surrender connective exchange floating downward in selfless offerings growth relinquished to the ebbing season feeding beauty, freely

More than decay, an autumnal relay that regenerates my senses

– Avesha Michael

Morning Hike

Brittany Josie

She rose early Eager to see The first light of day She gathered herself And started the climb Through the spring dew Breathing in Growth

She met the Mountain on her way The Mountain spoke to the girl And told her She was strong An infinite being In a wide world Of chaos

The girl whispered back And she said “You’re wrong, Mountain You don’t know me I am weak And selfish And I don’t have much To offer this world” The Mountain sighed And replied “Maybe

You should get to know yourself A little better.”

Pieces of Mind

Natalia Tcherniak

8”x10” (assembled), cyanotype on cut wood

Art is a great catalyst for healing, and a way of communication to those who can relate and not feel alone in their struggle with mental health. I create art as one of the ways to cope with depression and fight my bipolar tendencies, expressing the pain onto a medium that can take it.

– Natalia Tcherniak

EMBRACE VIBRANT SUMMER

Peter Devonald

embrace this broken world with healing hands don’t let your past write your future rewrite, recreate and reimagine a better world worthy of your dreams summer beats eternal in all our hearts, listen, listen.

may all your soons turn into now may all your spoons be many and large all your hopes turn into actuality all your wounds become painless scars all your illness becomes wellness

healing comes in waves - drowning, gasping then floating, easing, curing healing comes in circles - repeats, obsessive, compulsive, disorders, mending healing comes in triangles - downs, lows, survival then ups, highs, improvement healing comes in mazes - lost, darkness, dead-ends then exhilaration, answers and salvations

healing comes eventually - hold on, hang on, soon, new normal will be curative solutions

[I love] connecting with nature, photographing and being in the moment... be good to others and the natural world.

– Peter Devonald

Mornings in the mountains, it’s time to run

Becky Benelli

Today at this moment this is my fun, No one makes me its time to Run. Heading to the trails like a slow bullet from a gun, In this moment I feel like I’ve won.

I’ve won my freedom, my love and all this fun. This clean winter air and cleansing cool dirt, being alone in the forest never feels like work.

After a few more moments on the trails I calmed my spirit. My nervous system and my mind flip over from worry and fear to something much more clear.

My watch clicks over with a familiar beep and I start to climb. Sometimes with no path in mind.

Just a picture of a map and an outcome in mind.

I never give myself a time to be finished, my heart is present and knows the moments on a trail I can never get back.

My heart covets this time being alone in nature; out on the trail this is my reward, my salvation; it proves to myself that love can prevail.

Playing in the sun, jumping over logs and climbing on rocks, I eventually get to the top.

I look out at the landscape and realize my breath is lost. These tremendous moments transcend time and I realize everything is fine.

My legs burn and my heart tingles as I view the small city high from above up in the clouds, being hugged by a forest and surrounded by love.

I sit on a rock and sometimes take off my shoes, dancing in the dirt singing and enjoying the view.

Surrounded by beautiful trees, most of them are much older than me. Birds chirp swoop and fly as my feet beat down on the earth; like rhythmic pounding drums as I hoot and holler. I have Tons of fun.

The energy decreases by the moments of my beating heart.

The cool air fills my lungs at altitude with no one around and perspiration in my hair forms tiny clumps of ice.

I smile to myself and my heart sings out – Isn’t this nice!

Mother Nature

Deja Hartsfield

Acrylic paint on canvas

Passion is energy. Feel the power that comes from focusing on what excites you, such as a hobby, as it is the most revolutionary thing you could do. It facilitates so much happiness within your path.

– Deja Hartsfield

distilled Jessa Bruce

And we lost ourselves in the winding roads of what could have been and what all ways goes these flowing feelings of Fayettes sky that opened wide for only our eyes

35mm film photograph and digital collage

I’ve been brought a tremendous amount of joy in these times of chaos mode while taking photography road trips with my partner in chrome/boyfriend. I enjoy capturing images that transcend personal meaning to evoke a spirit within the viewer that energetically contributes to the piece and vice versa.

– Jessa Bruce

Train Travel

James B. Nicola

All that lies before will lie behind.

A place becomes the past; the deed, a fact; The West becomes an east; a south, the North; a pressing dream, tomorrow; then tonight; then now; and if not last night then a dream manqué.

Likewise today turns into yesterday; last week, a bright, then dimming, memory; if dull, not bright, an absolutely nothing; a life full of places you might have gone, persons you might have been, passes you might have made, loved ones you only passed, hurts never felt that would have healed in time.

Try sitting, though, the other way; let another traveler take the forward view, construe your change of mind or change of heart as generosity, and start to chat. The place where you were headed but a moment or two ago now lies before you for a while

Study of a Land I’ve Never Known Anam Tariq

Cultivated by English the isles, they sought O Albion your sea-encircled coast. What an interpreter of the maps visualizes To the feet, hands never known

Till like the Normans on your fair sand trod and tasted Geoffrey’s rhapsodical recipes of the national tongue. At Lakeland, lithosphere’s rainbow, poets met their muse And your vast, icy cliffs guard Dover’s moon-blanch’d coast.

A ring of knights from the Middle ages the Stonehenge imitates, Belts of blooms crown fields, alleys… the Oxford countryside. And lo the heather carpeted moors! The quaint, rain-washed streets By the charter’d Thames, now a scurry of cafes and the tube.

O what wealth these goldened folios have brought, Studying your body in the silhouettes of words– the maps of literature!

This piece was first published on The Blahcksheep, an independent digital platform for contrarian voices all around the world.

Untitled

Amy “Tovah” Shafran

As an individual living with mental health and chronic illness, and also as a suicide survivor, the arts are my lifeline--allowing me a safe outlet to express my emotions and foster healing. My intuitive creative process challenges me to ignore my inner critic, trust my intuition, follow my creative muse, and to reclaim my authentic voice.

– Tovah Shafran

Pen and ink on card stock

Raw (I)

Weronika Wrzosek

Sculpture; plastic, polyurethane, acrylic

Raw (II) Weronika Wrzosek

Sculpture; plastic, polyurethane, acrylic

My art allows me to get used to topics that bother me. This is a way to express my fears and concerns. Through my artworks, I try to find beauty in what is seemingly terrifying and pessimistic, and to emphasize what is worth appreciating in life.

– Weronika Wrzosek

Tangled Thoughts Martina Teeny Collender

When your mind is cluttered, Your thoughts tangled, The past won’t let you rest, The present a gift of poison, The future impossible, Wee comments and memories, Questions and agony’s, Failures and messes you made, When the evil thoughts come, Making you feel worthless, And numb, When your mind won’t give you time, To rest, Or even cry, I hope you don’t mind, I recommend, not quite a cure or a fix, But something that helps me, When my mind is ill, Is turning on an audiobook, And allowing the soothing voice, To lead you to a land of fantasy, Where with the characters, You know so well their friends, You can walk through a life, That’s not yours, That you can borrow for a little while, I promise, It will help untangle your thoughts.

Hanging on by a Thread

Julie Kitzes

Being a professional artist can sap the joy from creating art as I always feel the need to monetize my work, but something I do as a hobby and for no one but myself is needlepoint. I was introduced to the medium by a therapist as it’s “rhythmic and repetitive” which is supposed to be good for copi ng with anxiety.

– Julie Kitzes

Digital

Needlepoint Chair

Diana Raab

Each day when I come down from my bedroom on the second floor to the hallway leading to the kitchen, I pass my grandmother’s needlepoint chair crafted one century ago.

The yellow flower with brown background has not faded, but the surrounding wood bears chips which divulge its age. But still, the chair’s energies whisper secrets like the hummingbird outside my studio who each day tries to relay messages from grandma gone nearly sixty years now.

This sacred chair holds her love, which she bestowed on me each day of her life until she chose to end it, by swallowing too many sleeping pills into her frail aging body.

If I stop and stare closely at each needlepoint stitch, I can feel her love labor and the five other chairs that occupied my childhood home, in the same way that my needlepoint pillows made for each of my five grandchildren live in their bedrooms so they too can feel my stitched embrace.

Art - an umbrella in the storm of my mind

Srimoyee Acharya

Mental health is something I’m passionate about, and my art has been a huge factor in helping me manage my depression and anxiety. Sometimes my mind can feel like a storm or overwhelming monster and this piece shows how I use art as an umbrella against all the negative self-talk and pain associated with mental illness.

– Srimoyee Acharya

Acrylic painting

Out With the Old

Todd Matson

we can’t run from our problems we can only outlast them it’s not the speed it’s the endurance just start running slow and easy no hills to die on steady as she goes out with the old in with the new breathe out the old breathe in the new every few seconds rhythmically breathe out breathe in out with “I can’t” in with “I can” out with self-loathing in with self-affirmation

out with self-harm in with self-care out with yesterday’s traumas in with today’s healing out with addiction in with recovery out with angry outbursts in with assertiveness out with anxiety in with peace out with despair in with hope out with the worst of times in with the best of times out with feeling dead inside in with feeling alive again out with judgment in with grace

Forrest Gump is not the only one who somehow found therapeutic benefits from running, as each of us can, as our body allows.

– Todd Matson

WHETHER HINT OF WEATHER BIPOLARITY?

Gerard Sarnat

i.

Cloudy September Saturday Dusk

Summer/ autumn Quiet between Waiting for The rain And 1st of season Central heating. I like the space Age 77 A lucky number ——But clearly Also am really Old man. Fall turns towards Winter even if Still smile on Your face Plus that bit of springiness in step.

ii.Sunday pre-dawn now soo drained after Saturday rapture driving home west across the bay reminds me of Constable’s painting Study of Clouds minus as much evidence of that Ecstasy.....

Photograph

iv. Rainbow’s spectrum

pertains to us mentally moody and those who have no experience with The Ill to illuminate, heal, come to terms*

*thanks to Variant Literature

iii. Our First Rainy Day Schedule Sunday

After pancake breakfast and before lunch boychicks learn to count plus oy hoard pennies, nickels, dimes and quarters. Coachie now plumb tuckered out I plopped them in front of my favorite show Caillou, about which both Liavy Well as Yanai simultaneously say, Grandma Sure sounds like my own Bubbe!

Photograph Photograph

another reality

My goal in art is to leave to posterity my idea of the world in my paintings on glass. My hobby.

– Sergey Dobrynov

Sergey Dobrynov

Oil paint on glass, 30-40 cm

Dare to Downsize Elizabeth Sunshine

Discarded climbing shoes harness, chalk ‘n’ clips Fifteen pairs of yoga pants (tho’ I’m not sure if they still fit…) Marbles, movies, a music box— and there’s that magic set that, I just remembered, I still like a lot! I’ve got boots for skiing and boots for hiking Shoes for dancing, shoes for biking

A pair for larping and for dressing as a Viking So much to do! Mostly I can’t decide… It’s a little overwhelming, when in this clutter I reside…

But, oh—there’s where hobby-related books are shelved and stacked! Books about history and classics in hardback Books about science and books about writing Books for self help and others I hide in when self-denying young adult novels with imperfect heroes who just keep trying trying trying… Books and books on varieties of topics, once so very, very occupying… All my books for these ‘n’ this and all of those for all of that and—hmm, I know I had at least five on organizing… but… hmm, I don’t know where they’re at…?

And here! Here are my many special boxes! Boxes of full of fabric, boxes full of odds and ends And there— my cups and containers choked with brushes and paint tubes and markers and pens! Quite the eclectic mix, for sure, but I’m just so goddamn talented, when I try new trends.

Surrounded by these many varied very favorite things All belov’d ‘n’ then forgot They were so exciting for a time! But… now they’re… just… not.

Some erode with rust while others gather dust

I hold on to a room filled with things that made me happy… but now fill me up with guilt and gloom I stash them in the closet in the basement or the corner of the room ‘cause… I know, I know I’ll get back into them soon…

Yellow Socks

Tasneem Dairywala

The colours have turned. My favourite season is here. Gem-like leaves, the colour of the setting sun, adorn every branch.

I look forward to fall every year. Gone is the suppressing heat of the summer, replaced by fresh crisp air that fills my lungs.

But with all that beauty, comes a feeling of dread, for this will not last. Soon the leaves will fall. Soon the air will be frigid cold, the sun smothered behind clouds, the ground covered in filthy slush.

As hard as winter can be, I welcome the reprieve from the constant demands of socializing. As soon as the weather turns, everyone loses their motivation to plan gathering after gathering.

I’m left to spend my time the way I want to without being pushed from one event to another, my attendance feeling like a debt I owe to society.

Instead, I have plenty of time to hold hands with my husband, play with my daughter, and just… breathe.

I’m no longer crammed in someone’s living room, surrounded by twenty different conversations, none of which I have any desire to take part in.

Instead, I only see people who enliven me, but even that is in small dosages.

The long dark nights that stretch out ahead are covered in cozy blankets, sipping peppermint tea, and eating chicken soup from the restaurant down the street. Who has the energy to cook during winter? Or any season, really?

My hands either hold a brush or a book or are buried deep in soil, repotting plants, and making sure they survive the combination of cold drafts and central heating.

The colours are cold. Grays, browns, and if I’m lucky, a bit of blue. But I wrap them up with warm scarves, fluffy sweaters, and yellow socks, and then winter’s not that bad at all.

It’s time to hibernate, to rest and recover until flowers bloom again.

Family Game Night + Live-Play-Love

Navilan

Taka Taka Taka, TakaTakaTakaTaka, Taka, Taka. The sweet swinging rhythm of the dice hitting the wood, spinning around like window displays on a candy store showing all of life’s possibilities. Yet, you can only have one. You have no choice but to wait for the dancer to settle down. With every throw down, we look at each other. The tides of emotion rolling through us, synchronizing to the drumbeats of the dice, make us feel alive, connected and so together. We play.

We visit worlds that never existed, we battle monsters that are too cute to kill. We run through jungles in sugary suspense. All in the comfort of our home. Wood, plastic, cardboard, metal and paper taking their larger-than-life avatars. We are medieval knights in chainmail armor. We are scuba divers trying to escape The Kraken. We are settlers trying to make our village the best. Our innocence returns and a thousand flowers bloom, bearing pollens filled with deep thirst for life’s marvels. Hope, wonder, love and laughter. We see light’s sparkling dance in pitch darkness ready to explode, engulf and shine. We are all children. We play. Taka Taka Taka, TakaTakaTakaTaka, Taka, Taka.

Photograph, Lego Wheel Scupture

Cosmos Harper Hazelmare

I love growing volunteer flowers as a hobby; it’s a rich change of pace from the more arduous work of gardening and foraging. There’s a peace to hanging out with flowers, including with these edible Cosmos, perhaps becaus e they cycle with such softness. It’s a good reminder of presence; how we might show up kinder to the world.

– Harper Hazelmare

Photograph

Freedom from Anxiety through Music

Ginny S. Gillikin

Music brings me solace. As a loner, I intentionally submerse myself in a wall of sound. Feelings of calmness and contentment surround me when I put on headphones and listen to a favorite vinyl record on the turntable.

I sometimes feel the necessity for a distraction from the outside world, since it can be harsh. Stressors like job stability, finances, and relationships can crush even the most confident and successful person. And people can be cruel–sometimes intentionally, sometimes not. As someone with a sensitive soul who battles anxiety and depression, I feel stress, loss, and angst more deeply than most.

Listening to music helps me break free from the agony and fear that I sometimes experience. I lose myself in the beats, melody, and lyrics. The stories told in songs transport me to a world far away, where my demons no longer torture me. Escape to an unfamiliar existence offers relief.

Music can also transcend time. Memories come flooding back when I listen to specific songs and albums. I reminisce about spending time with family and attending concerts with friends. Other songs revive feelings of nostalgia, with a sad twist, as they remind me of people who are no longer in my life.

But primarily, listening to words and sounds helps me concentrate on something other than my worries. My anxieties and sorrows disappear as I get out of my head and pay attention to the thoughts of others–some tortured by overthinking and analyzing like me, some not.

Upbeat music like hip-hop, electronica, and disco/house styles help improve my mood. Elation and euphoria course throughout my body. Rhythm and cadence force me out of my chair and onto a private dance floor.

Sad country and Goth songs actually comfort me as well. Hearing others sing about loss and longing for love proves that I am not alone with my conflicted feelings. Anxiety and yearning are universal sentiments.

I must remind myself often that obsessing over emotions and unpleasant circumstances is not healthy. Getting lost in music allows me to escape from the confines of my mind and revel in an activity that brings ple asure.

Courage

Aviva Derenowski

Pressure

squeezes my tired heart takes my breath away.

I observe theagitation anxiety fear, and keep breathing slowly,

One breath at a time.

I listen to pressure and realize it originates from someone who has felt pressure and passed it to me.

I breathe into it dismantle it giving pressure space to expand and change to something lively new -

The fruit of Pressure.

Into the Calm TINSTY

Watercolor on paper

A fractured ankle, emergency surgery, and flaring psoriasis from stress, led me to turn to watercolour painting, and, encouraged by my Thai hotel manager, Mam, meditation. I did a day meditation study at a monastery in Chiangmai, on crutches, visually imaging the walking meditation for the day when I could walk again.

– TINSTY

artist bios

Alessandra Ensch (she/her) is a linguist and artist of Russian-Ukrainian heritage who grew up in California. A graduate of the art and French departments at Sacramento State University, she teaches languages online and travels as a digital nomad in Europe. She dreams of publishing her first book of poems.

IG: @alessandra.sasha www.alessandraensch.com

Amy “Tovah” Shafran (she/her) is a mixed media intuitive artist and Expressive Arts facilitator who believes everyone is inherently creative. She is a mental health advocate who focuses on suicide prevention. Her artwork often incorporates pen and ink, and poetry, and focuses on the divine feminine and nature. Tovah is the founder of Creative Artery, whose mission includes empowering youth through nourishing their authentic creativity, fostering hope, and promoting mental wellness. She also founded Black Byrd Krafts which specializes in handmade crafts.

IG: @CreativeArtery

FB: Black Byrd Krafts

Anam Tariq (she/her) is a poet, writer, and book reviewer from India with an MA in English and a poetry collection, A Leaf upon a Book (Leadstart, 2022) to her name. She is currently running “The Wordsridge Newsletter” on Substack. Her poems appear in several lit. mags and anthologies.

IG: @anam.tariq_

Avesha Michael (she/her) is a ceramic artist, writer, storyteller, and healer. Avesha uses art to heal and connect with herself and one another.

IG: @avesha33

Etsy: etsy.com/shop/aveshamichael

Aviva Derenowski (she/her) resides in New York. She starts her day by sitting for an hour practicing Vipassana meditation. This promotes joy and equanimity in all her interactions throughout the day. She and her husband, Alex, meditate again for an hour in the evening.

FB: facebook.com/aviva.derenowski

Becky Benelli (they/them/she/her) is a 36-year-old nomadic transgender veteran. They have been creating art since being knee-high to a duck. Their current focus is mostly surrealism, using a ballpoint pen.

IG: @breathingsmiles47 YouTube: Breathing smiles poetry

Brittany Josie (she/her) is an American poet and author of “Weatherveins: poems for every season.” Brittany’s work is unapologetic in its honest and direct styling, leaving the reader empowered. IG/Facebook: @brittanyjosiepoetry www.brittanyjosie.com

Dejaneria “Deja” Hartsfield (she/ her) is 27-year-old woman from the Chicagoland area who identifies herself as a poet, an entrepreneur, an artist, and a Behavior Analyst. IG: @arts_harts www.artsbyharts.com

Diana Raab (she/her) is an award-winning memoirist, poet, blogger, speaker, Ph.D., and author of 10 books and is a contributor to numerous journals and anthologies. Her two latest books are “Writing for Bliss: A Seven-Step Plan for Telling Your Story and Transforming Your Life,” and “An Imaginary Affair: Poems whispered to Neruda.” She blogs for Psychology Today, Thrive Global, Sixty and Me, Good Men Project, and The Wisdom Daily and is a frequent guest blogger. www.dianaraab.com

Elizabeth Sunshine (she/her) has a BA in creative writing from Colorado State University and an indomitable compulsion to write. She loves clever puns and stories that spark new thoughts and ideas. She is inspired by writers like Thoreau, Vonnegut, and Taylor Swift. IG: @ohsocynicalsun Twitter: @granolapapermag www.elizabethsunshine.com

Gerard Sarnat (he/they) is a prize-winning poet, physician, Stanford professor, and healthcare CEO. Gerry is the author of HOMELESS CHRONICLES, Disputes, 17s, Melting Ice King. His literary works have

been published by The Buddhist Poetry Review, Gargoyle, Main Street Rag, New Delta Review, Arkansas Review, Hamilton-Stone Review, Northampton Review, New Haven Poetry Institute, Texas Review, Vonnegut Journal, Brooklyn Review, San Francisco Magazine, Monterey Poetry Review, The Los Angeles Review, and The New York Times, as well as by many academic presses. www.gerardsarnat.com

Ginny S. Gillikin (she/her) is a writer in Raleigh, NC. She has composed poems and stories since childhood. She considers her style of writing to be stream-of-consciousness and writes about dreams, friends and family, and life experiences. Ginny has authored profiles of musicians for PunkanormalActivity.com and Raleigh Magazine IG: @ginnygillikin LinkedIn: linkedin.com/in/ginnygillikin www.punkanormalactivity.com/author/ginny-gillikin

Harper Hazelmare (she/they + we/ our/ours) is a non-binary, queer botanical artist, writer of cautionary tales, and keeper of a community apothecary. When not enjoying the color yellow in nature, Helen experiments in her home studio with found objects or grows black peppermint for Herbalists Without Borders. She has been published in The Shallot, Spoonie Magazine, Moss Puppy Magazine, publications on Medium, and The Mighty. IG: @ brown.horse.herbal

Hugh Findlay (he/him) is a writer and photographer who has been published worldwide. He is in the third trimester of life and finds inspiration in everyday people, places, and things. IG: @hughmanfindlay

James B. Nicola (he/him) is the author of seven collections of poetry, the latest two being Turns & Twists (just out) and Fires of Heaven: Poems of Faith and Sense. His nonfiction book Playing the Audience: The Practical Guide to Live Performance won a Choice award. sites.google.com/site/jamesbnicola/

Jenny Solem (she/her) is a mixed media artist with ranges from hyper-realistic to bizarrely abstract. She has been drawing since age five and feels she is her best self when she can create. She lives with her husband and sweet feline friend, Timber.

IG: @inuiffyart www.inuiffyart.com

Jessa Bruce (she/her/they) is an eclectic alchemistical artist from the New Orleans area. Her grocery list typically consists of milk, eggs, queerness, bread, mirliton, neurodivergency, death, avocados, tomatoes, breath, popcorn, and weed.

IG: @LashWednesdayDrag

Etsy: LoveAndLashesStudio

Julie Kitzes (she/her) is an illustrator, designer, and muralist located in Denver, Colorado. She specializes in work pertaining to nature and animals and holds a special place in her heart for pet portraits.

IG: @juliekitzes

Martina Teeny Collender (she/her) is a Playwright/Poet. She’s been published in The Waxed Lemon, The Munster Express, The Lonely Voice, and The Shallot. She’s been commissioned to write plays for RigOut Productions, Red Kettle, Comeragh Wilds Festival, Imagine Arts Festival, Garter Lane, and Waterford Youth Arts.

IG:@martinacollenderplaywright

FB: Martinacollenderplaywrightandwriter

Natalia Tcherniak (she/her) is a visual artist, theatre set designer, alternative photography printmaker, and occasional burlesque performer. She is also a licensed architect, working on mixed-use and healthcare projects across Canada.

IG: @nattchbob www.blueprintjam.com

Navilan (he/him) is a father for sure, a programmer by profession, a poet by identity, and an educator in a dreamlike past. He has told many long-form stories to short-form humans. He is

happy in his nook with his family, reading, playing, and trying to fall in love with life again. navilan.in

Olive Hoskins (they/them) is an interdisciplinary artist with an affinity for mixed-media painting, animation, and comic illustration. IG @journalingolive TikTok: @journalingolive olivehosk.wixsite.com/olivehoskins

Peter Devonald (he/him) is a Manchester, England-based poet and screenwriter. Waltham Forest Poetry Competition Winner 2022 and Heart Of Heatons Poetry Award 2021. Poet in residence Haus-arest. Featured in Poetic Map of Reading. Five group poetry gallery shows. Children’s Bafta-nominated, 50+ awards (Gold Remi WorldFest), and former mentor for the Peter Ustinov Awards (iemmys). He is included in 30 anthologies/ zines, including Artists Responding To…, Forget-Me-Not Press, three issues of haus-a-rest, and part of The Chronically Online/Culturable/ Layered Onion group show. www.scriptfirst.com IG: @peterdevonald FB: facebook.com/pdevonald

Rebecca Thorne (she/her) is a selftaught artist-in-training based in rural Ireland. Life-long battler of c-PTSD: happiest submersed in nature. Took up painting in 2022 when poor health made running too challenging. Twitter: @Becca3Artach mastodon.art/web/@BeccaThorne

Sergey Dobrynov (no pronouns), was born in Lugansk, Ukraine. Now studying at the magistracy of the Institute of Culture and Arts in Poltava, Ukraine. Has a specialty of glass painting.

IG: @sergeydobrynov sites.google.com/view/dobrynovsergei/

Srimoyee Acharya (she/her) is a Los Angeles-based South Asian artist, and her brand Srimoyee Handmade offers joyful designs that appeal to any

animal and nature lover. Srimoyee is also committed to making the world a better place through art and donates a portion of each sale to animal rescue non-profits.

IG: @srimoyeehandmade www.srimoyeehandmade.com

Tasneem Dairywala (she/her) loves to create worlds full of magic, color, and warmth that focus on themes of resilience, empathy, and kindness. She is an OCAD alumna with a major in Drawing and Painting and a minor in English, but most of her education comes from reading books with her three-year-old.

IG: @tdairywala FB: facebook.com/tdairywala/ www.tasneemdairywala.com

TINSTY (she/her) is a British artist working primarily with ink, acrylic, and mixed media. After traveling and convalescing for five weeks in Thailand, she has been experimenting with watercolor. She is mainly concerned with the ocean and its effects on mental health. She graduated from Central St. Martins School of Art in 2008.

IG: @thingsIneversaidtoyou www.thingsIneversaidtoyou.com

Todd Matson (he/him) is a Licensed Marriage and Family Therapist. He has written poetry for The Journal of Pastoral Care & Counseling, has been published in Vital Christianity, and has written lyrics for songs recorded by a number of contemporary Christian music artists, including the Gaither Vocal Band.

Weronika Wrzosek (she/her) was born in 1994 in Sokolow Podlaski, Poland. She is a graduate of the Strzeminski Academy of Fine Arts in Lodz. Her artworks mainly deal with aspects of transience, the materiality of decay, transformation, awareness of death and disinformation, alienation, and anxiety in the contemporary world.

IG: @_wrzosek

Masthead EDITOR-IN-CHIEF Em Hendrickson PRODUCTION STAFF Clara Christensen Ed Syth Eva Syth

© 2022 The Shallot: Journal of Mental Health, Arts, and Literature

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