We already have words for feelings.

We say: I feel sad. I feel stressed. I feel anxious. I feel overwhelmed. I feel angry. I feel tired.

And words are important. They help us name what is happening. They help us communicate with other people. They can make something invisible a little bit more visible.

But sometimes one word is not enough.

Sometimes a feeling is not one clear thing. It may be mixed with another feeling. It may change during the day. It may sit in the body. It may grow when we ignore it. It may shrink when we give it attention. It may look calm on the outside while something very different is happening underneath.

When we only use one word, we may think we have understood the feeling.

But maybe we have only labelled it.

A word can be like a label on a closed box.

Drawing can help us open the box.

(Exercises are highlighted in green to make it easier for you to find them 😎⤵️)

When a feeling needs more than a name

If I say, “I feel overwhelmed,” that gives me a starting point.

But what does overwhelmed actually feel like?

Is it heavy?
Is it sharp?
Is it loud?
Is it foggy?
Is it tangled?
Is it pushing against me?
Is it trying to protect me?
Is it asking me to stop?

The word alone does not always show this.

This is where drawing can help.

Drawing does not replace words. I do not see it as something better than language. I see it as another way of paying attention.

When I draw a feeling, I do not need to explain it perfectly. I can give it a form. I can draw it as a creature, a cloud, a stone, a wave, a scribble, a pattern, a weather system, or a tiny scene.

Then something interesting happens.

The feeling is no longer only inside me. It is also on the page.

I can look at it. I can observe it. I can ask questions about it.

What is it doing?
Where is it going?
What does it want?
What is it protecting?
What does it need?

Sometimes the drawing reveals something I did not know before I picked up the pen.

Maybe I thought I was only angry, but the drawing shows sadness underneath.

Maybe I thought I was stressed, but the drawing shows pressure, responsibility, and a need for space.

Maybe I thought the feeling was too big, but when I draw it, I see that it has edges. It has a shape. It has movement. It is not everything.

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Feelings are not static

This is why I often use sequential drawing.

One drawing can show a feeling.

But three drawings can show what happens to it.

A feeling is rarely frozen in one position. It moves. It changes. It reacts. It takes up more or less space depending on the situation. Sometimes it comes closer. Sometimes it hides. Sometimes it becomes louder because it has not been listened to.

A short comic can help us see this movement.

That is one of the foundations of what I call the Visual Method: using simple sequential drawings to explore feelings, thoughts, relationships, and inner experiences.

It is not about artistic skill.

It is not about making a beautiful image.

It is about noticing.

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My puffer fish example

For this exercise, I drew a feeling as a puffer fish.

I did not start by trying to make a perfect metaphor. I simply asked myself: if this feeling had a form, what could it look like?

(The video below is a shortened version of my drawing process.

For those who would like to slow down with the exercise and see the full puffer fish comic unfold from the empty panels to the final reflection, I will share the full video in the next post for paid subscribers.)

The puffer fish appeared because the feeling was not only one thing. It was sensitive, alert, and defensive. It had a soft body, but it also had spikes. It was trying to protect itself.

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In the first panel, the puffer fish is already there with the feeling inside it. It is present, fully expanded, and scared. There is something vulnerable about it. It is carrying a lot of tension.

This is what I often notice when I draw feelings. The first image does not need to explain everything. It simply gives the feeling somewhere to appear.

In the second panel, the puffer fish not only expands, but also bounces from side to side without touching the ground. Its tiny hands and feet are trapped in the expanded body. It cannot reach anything. It has lost control.

This is the moment where the feeling says something more.

It takes up a lot of space. The hands and feet are trapped, and that takes away the possibility of control. The feeling is no longer quiet. It is reacting.

When I look at this panel, I see how a feeling can affect us when it senses pressure, danger, criticism, or too much demand. It may look aggressive from the outside. Or, in this case, completely useless. But inside, it may actually be trying to protect something soft.

That is an important detail.

Sometimes it feels as if our feelings are working against us. But perhaps they are trying to protect something that feels vulnerable.

In the third panel, I drew a ladder. The puffer fish has very short hands and feet, and it is trying to reach the lowest part of the ladder.

It does not give up. It does not explode. But it needs something.

It needs to take one step.

It does not need to manage everything at once. It does not need full control. It needs to feel safe enough to reach for the first step, to grab the lowest part of the ladder, and hold on to it.

For me, this is one of the most meaningful parts of drawing feelings in panels.

Often, our first question is:

How do I get rid of this feeling?

But perhaps the better question is:

What does this feeling need from me?

The puffer fish helped me see that the feeling was not only tension. It was also about letting go of control. It was a protective reaction. It needed gentleness, not judgment.

If I had only written one word, I might have missed that.

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Try this: draw one feeling in three panels

You can try this exercise with any feeling.

It does not need to be the biggest feeling in your life. In fact, it can be easier to begin with something small or ordinary:

• tiredness

• irritation

• uncertainty

• nervousness

• pressure

• excitement

• disappointment

• restlessness

Take a piece of paper and draw three small boxes.

Then choose one feeling and ask:

Panel 1: Where is the feeling now?

You can draw it in the body, beside you, around you, above you, inside an object, or as a creature.

You can ask:

Where does this feeling live?
Is it close or far away?
Is it heavy or light?
Does it have a colour, shape, texture, or temperature?

Do not think too much. Let the first image be simple.

Panel 2: What does the feeling do?

Now imagine the feeling has movement.

Does it grow?
Does it shrink?
Does it hide?
Does it follow you?
Does it press down?
Does it buzz?
Does it freeze?
Does it explode?
Does it protect?
Does it pull you somewhere?

Draw what happens when the feeling becomes active.

This panel can help you notice the behaviour of the feeling, not just its name.

Panel 3: What does the feeling need?

Now ask what might help.

Maybe the feeling needs space.
Maybe it needs rest.
Maybe it needs a boundary.
Maybe it needs movement.
Maybe it needs support.
Maybe it needs to be heard.
Maybe it needs you to stop fighting it for a moment.

Draw one small response.

It does not have to be a solution. It can simply be an image of care, distance, softness, protection, clarity, or attention.

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Reflection questions

After you finish, look at the three panels and ask yourself:

• Did the feeling change as I drew it?

• Did I notice something that was difficult to express in words?

• Was there another feeling hiding inside the first one?

• What did the final panel suggest that I might need?

• How does the feeling look now that it is outside me on the page?

You may want to write one sentence underneath the comic. Not to explain everything, but to capture what you noticed.

For example:

“This feeling does not need to disappear. It needs more space.”

Or:

“This is not only anger. It is protection.”

Or:

“I thought I was overwhelmed, but the drawing showed me that I am tired and need support.”

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Drawing as a way of listening

I believe drawing can help us listen to ourselves differently.

Not because drawings are magical. Not because every image has one hidden meaning that we need to decode.

But because drawing slows us down.

It invites us to look again.

It gives the feeling a place to appear without demanding that we explain it immediately.

And when we use small sequences, we begin to see that feelings are not fixed objects. They are moving experiences. They shift in relation to our thoughts, bodies, memories, surroundings, and needs.

This is also why I use visual exercises in my workshops and workbooks. Simple drawings can create a space where people explore emotions, stories, relationships, and inner experiences in a way that feels less pressured than finding the perfect words.

The drawing does not need to be beautiful.

It only needs to be honest enough to begin a conversation.

A word can help us say:

“This is what I feel.”

A drawing can help us ask:

“What is this feeling showing me?”

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If you try this exercise, I would be very happy to see what you draw.

You are welcome to share your comic in the comments, or send it to me in a private message if that feels more comfortable.

It does not need to be polished or beautiful. A tiny honest drawing is more than enough.

I would love to know what your feeling became on the page.

Have you ever drawn your feelings? What might your comic say today?

Let’s explore together, Marina 💖

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Let’s journal and find out.

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I discovered visual journaling before I even knew it had a name. I’m sure many of you can relate — those half-filled notebooks lying around with scattered notes and doodles, not intentional enough to call a habit, but full of quiet meaning. I always find it both interesting and emotional to flip through those pages when I stumble upon them. They’re like snapshots of my inner world — a planted seed of self-interest, an open window letting in a warm breeze of reflection.

When I began creating my Comic Drawing workshops, I came across the formal method of visual journaling and knew it belonged there, as I mentioned in my previous articles here. Visual journaling is a combination of writing and drawing. You might draw a list of things you enjoyed today and write beside it: my favourite coffee, a cosy chat with my colleague, or a nice walk on the beach — under a quick sketch of flip-flops.

Of course, as a comic artist, I would add that drawing comics with dialogue in your journal is great too. There are no exact rules for visual journaling. It is the meeting place of words and images — a space where your inner world can speak in whatever form feels most natural. Some days it’s a flurry of sentences; other days it’s a single shape or colour that carries the weight of what you’re feeling. It’s a flexible practice that welcomes both the analytical mind and the intuitive hand.

When I hosted my first visual journaling workshop in Sandnes, I prepared my slides, found the venue — a cosy local coffee place slash bakery — and invited people. But more than anything, I was curious. Curious about how people would find it, what they would draw, and the stories they would share.

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For this workshop, I outlined a few focus areas — or perhaps you could call them reasons to give visual journaling a try:

⭐ Blending Art and Writing — learning how to combine drawing and journaling to visually represent thoughts and emotions. Sometimes words alone can’t capture everything we feel, and that’s where drawing or doodling comes in.

⭐ Self-awareness through Creativity — by expressing yourself through both drawing and writing, you can gain deeper insights into your thoughts, emotions, and patterns, unlocking new perspectives on your life.

⭐ Emotional Clarity through Visual Expression — drawing or using colour to represent emotions can help process feelings in a different way, allowing for a fuller exploration of what’s going on inside.

⭐ Personal Growth through Reflection — combining creative and reflective practices builds a habit of checking in with yourself, recognising what needs your attention, and fostering personal growth.

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During the session, we tried different journaling techniques, from free-flow sketching to combining prompts with drawings and words. Everyone had the time to experiment with what resonated most for them and to find their unique journaling style.

One exercise invited participants to draw a few small highlights from their day — not the “big events” that usually get recorded, but the fleeting moments that often slip by unnoticed. A perfect cappuccino with the foam just right. A patch of sunlight on the kitchen table. The sound of laughter from the next room. As the sketches began to take shape, something shifted in the room. People leaned in to share what they’d drawn, and the conversation flowed naturally, weaving from one tiny joy to another. It felt less like a formal workshop and more like a warm, slow catch-up with friends. In those moments, we were reminded that life’s sweetness often hides in the small pleasures we grant ourselves — and that noticing them, even for a minute, can make our days feel lighter, softer, and somehow more ours.

Even something as simple as drawing your lunch or the ingredients for your breakfast can become a small act of mindfulness and inspiration. Whether it sparks a new idea for tomorrow’s meal, serves as an act of self-care and compassion, or simply satisfies curiosity, it has a way of keeping you present and grounded in the moment.

We didn’t have long to journal together, but my hope was to plant a seed — to inspire and encourage participants to keep exploring visual journaling on their own, or even to share it with their families and friends.

I wanted each person to leave not just with a few filled pages, but with the beginning of a creative practice they could return to again and again — a practice that offers space to reflect, to express, and to listen to themselves more closely. Because when creative habits, like journaling, become part of our lives, they have the power to bring quiet but lasting change.

In my next post, I’ll share my Workbook: Visual Journaling — a guide you can use to explore journaling on your own, in your own space, and at your own pace. It’s an invitation to go deeper into the quiet wonders of this practice, to discover how sketching and doodling the moments of our days can open doors to spaces within ourselves we never knew we needed.

Warmly, Marina 💖

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This was my second workshop, and I was incredibly excited and curious to see and hear the stories participants would create. Comics have always fascinated me—not only are they fun to read, but they also offer unique insights into personal experiences and wisdom. One of the most rewarding parts of hosting these workshops is observing how each comic, whether created by an experienced artist or a beginner, contains its own distinct perspective and emotional intelligence. It highlights a profound truth: individual wisdom and storytelling cannot be generalised.

My first workshop

The aroma of fresh coffee filled the room as I arranged watercolour markers, pencils, and paper on the large table at Terran. It was August 28th, marking the return to daily routines after summer holidays. Upstairs in Terran’s spacious second-floor room, Luna, one of the volunteers, kindly assisted me in setting up snacks and drinks, creating a welcoming and relaxed atmosphere.

Terran isn’t just a regular community space—it brings together diverse cultures, backgrounds, and passions, all aiming to create positive change. I was excited to become part of this community through my Comic Drawing workshop, aiming to promote awareness around mental health through creativity.

I also brought my comic books to use as examples and to show participants what was possible, especially since drawing comics was a new concept for most of them.

As participants arrived, they showed a mix of curiosity, hesitation, playfulness, and careful attention. The environment quickly became comfortable, allowing everyone, even those initially unsure, to engage in the workshop. Everyone sat down ready, pencils in hand, eager to explore their emotions and feelings through the art of comic drawing.

Interestingly, research has shown that visual storytelling, such as comics, engages both hemispheres of the brain, enhancing creativity and emotional understanding. This dual engagement not only helps participants articulate their feelings more clearly but also deepens their connection to the stories they share.

After a short introduction about creativity and the mental health benefits of drawing, I explained how this process can serve as a form of meditation, a way to ground ourselves, and a tool to externalise what's going on inside. Drawing allows us to process emotions visually, access new perspectives, and reduce stress.

Neuroscientific studies support this—engaging in visual expression activates the brain’s reward system, lowers cortisol levels, and can even increase serotonin, helping improve mood and emotional regulation. The act of drawing, even simple doodling, provides cognitive rest while boosting focus and emotional clarity.

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To get started, we tried a light icebreaker: doodling like we often do when we're bored or trying to stay focused in a meeting. It's a habit many people share, yet it's rarely explored. I’ve thought this could be an interesting subject for research—what do people actually doodle when they feel constrained or restless? Even in this playful exercise, you could already see individual styles and emotional cues emerging, like a quiet visual language waiting to be noticed.

Then we moved on to the main exercise: creating comics in 4–6 frames to express moods, feelings, and emotions. Following the structure outlined in the workbook I had shared earlier, each comic was meant to include the setting, a depiction of the self, the felt emotion, the impact of that emotion, and finally, how it was handled or managed. I encouraged everyone to include a resolution or a hopeful ending—because no matter how heavy a feeling might be, there's always a way through it. A little comic relief at the end doesn’t hurt either!

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Here are some of the comics that were created during the session:

The first comic, titled "The Sleepy Blob," takes us through an entire day with a single character—a soft, shapeless blob—whose expressions and positions subtly shift from panel to panel. It’s minimalist, quiet, and yet it speaks volumes about fatigue, identity, and perhaps emotional withdrawal. It made us reflect on how some days feel like a blur, when everything looks the same but feels different inside.

Interestingly, studies show that even minimal visual storytelling can activate emotional empathy in readers, as our brains naturally try to fill in the narrative gaps—making simple comics like this surprisingly impactful in conveying emotional states.

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The second one, "The Show," is a striking and colourful sequence. A puppet-like figure prepares for and performs on stage, revealing the tension and excitement behind the performance. The structure and movement in this comic were particularly expressive. It captured so well the moments of build-up, pressure, and release that many of us experience when we put ourselves out there. The creator of this piece shared that he is an introvert and used this comic to express the internal pressure he often feels in social or performance situations. Despite the anxiety, he continues to participate because he finds genuine joy in the act of sharing and showing up—something many of us can relate to in our own way.

Research suggests that bright colours can stimulate the brain’s limbic system, enhancing emotional engagement and memory retention. In this case, the bold palette not only captured attention but also mirrored the inner drama and release of stepping into the spotlight.

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This piece, filled with gentle greens and natural textures, shows mosses in conversation. It’s imaginative and poetic, offering a moment of calm and connection with nature. Each species is given a voice, and the dialogue is subtle and philosophical—something between a botanical guide and a mindfulness exercise. It stood out for its creativity and softness.

I had an interesting observation while looking at this comic—it felt as though the author was expressing an internal dialogue through the different types of mosses. Some appeared open and playful, while others seemed more cautious and reserved, almost mistrusting. It reminded me how our inner world can hold these contrasting voices at the same time. When I shared this interpretation with the creator, I could see it resonated with her and sparked a deeper reflection on her work.

This comic bursts with autumn colours and seasonal feelings. A fox, warmly dressed, moves through a landscape filled with vibrant leaves and cosy rituals. It’s playful, sensory, and nostalgic—a perfect example of how comics can awaken memories and sensations, from the smell of leaves to the taste of a pumpkin spice latte.

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Each of these comics had its own rhythm, tone, and emotional landscape. What they shared was sincerity—an honest reflection of their creators' moods, thoughts, or fantasies in that moment.

Drawing has also been shown to support the development of gratitude and emotional resilience. When people illustrate moments they are thankful for, it encourages positive reflection and helps shift focus from stress to appreciation. Research in the field of positive psychology suggests that visual journaling and expressive drawing can enhance long-term wellbeing by helping individuals reframe experiences and identify inner strengths. In particular, combining narrative with image strengthens memory, emotional insight, and the ability to bounce back from difficult experiences. It's a creative practice that not only brings clarity but also nurtures personal growth over time.

As I wrapped up the workshop and looked around the room, I felt deeply inspired. Witnessing these personal, heartfelt creations reminded me why I love comics and visual storytelling so much. They are more than just drawings on paper—they are windows into people’s inner worlds, full of insight, vulnerability, humour, and resilience. Hosting this session only deepened my passion for this work. I left Terran feeling fulfilled, energised, and hopeful—grateful for the stories shared and excited for the ones still to come.

Have you ever drawn your feelings? What might your comic say today?

Let’s explore together, Marina 💖

You can draw yourself as anything, really… 🐧

Welcome to Drawing Your Emotions, a creative workbook designed to help you explore and express your feelings through simple comics. This is not about artistic skills—it’s about using drawing as a tool for self-discovery, emotional processing, and storytelling.

I’m Marina Tjetland, a comic artist, writer, and mental health advocate. I started drawing comics to process my own emotions, from postpartum depression to everyday frustrations and joys. I realised that sharing these drawings helped others feel seen, and now, I want to help you do the same!

Why Comics? 🙈

• Comics allow for free expression, without the need for perfect words.

• They provide a visual way to process emotions and experiences.

• Drawing activates mindfulness, problem-solving, and creativity.

• It’s a fun, low-pressure way to connect with yourself.

No drawing experience? No problem! All you need is a pen, paper, and an open mind.

Let’s begin! 🚀

Exercise 1: Let’s warm up with a simple icebreaker 🐶

Before we dive into anything deeper, I want you to doodle — without thinking too much. Just let your pen move.

If you’re not sure what to draw, think of this:
What do you usually doodle when you’re sitting in a meeting?
You know, the kind where people talk about project status, next steps, who’s doing what… and your mind drifts a little?

Draw that. The kind of doodle that shows up when you’re half-listening, a little bored, but still stuck in the room.

Still not sure what to draw? 🥸 Here’s what I usually end up sketching when I’m half-listening in a meeting:

Profile faces.

Eyes.

Hands.

Or some totally random shape that I later bring to life just by adding a few extra lines.

It doesn’t mean anything big — it’s just where my pen takes me when my mind drifts.

Try letting your own hand wander the same way.

No pressure. No rules. Just a little scribble to land in the moment.

So why do I doodle faces, eyes, and hands?

I’m not always sure.

Sometimes it feels like my hand is saying what my mind hasn’t formed into words yet.

Faces might be my way of looking for connection — even in boring meetings.

Eyes? Maybe it’s about trying to see things more clearly, or feeling like I’m being watched.

Hands often show up when I’m thinking about doing, reaching, holding, or letting go.

And those strange shapes that turn into something? They remind me that nothing starts finished — everything begins as a little curiosity.

A fun fact about doodling: Studies show that doodling actually helps us concentrate. It might seem like a distraction, but it can actually keep our brains engaged during long periods of listening. In one study, people who doodled while listening to a list of names remembered 29% more than those who didn’t doodle. It’s like giving your mind a soft cushion to lean on while it processes information.

Doodling is not about drawing well.

It’s a way of thinking. A way of staying present. A way of saying, “I’m here, and this is what’s on my mind.”

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The workshop had just begun. Soft voices, the rustle of paper, the gentle clicking of markers being uncapped. There was a nervous excitement in the room—a quiet curiosity. No one really knew what to expect. And to be honest, neither did I.

I welcomed everyone with a smile and a simple truth: you don’t need to know how to draw to be part of this. We’ve all drawn before—on napkins, in notebooks, during long meetings, or while waiting for something to begin. We all know how to make lines and shapes. The real magic isn’t in the drawing—it’s in what it allows.

Drawing stands out as the most fluid and flexible form of expression, distinct from music, dance, writing, or sculpture. Unlike those arts, it isn’t confined by rhythm, tone, plot, or structure. It allows for spontaneous creativity—immediate, messy, fluid, and forgiving.

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Many artists throughout history have used drawing as a way to express something deeply personal. Some became known for technique and detail, others for raw experimentation.

Like Cy Twombly…

Or Pablo Picasso…

Or Henri Matisse…

And then there's the drawing of a five-year-old girl.

I wasn’t trying to give an art history lesson. This was my way of saying: you can put whatever you want on your paper, and experimenting is fun.

We’ve all drawn more than once or twice. We know how to use a pen and paper. We know colours—it’s not like musical notes we have to study. We’re already equipped.

I also talked about how drawing has a therapeutic effect on our brain and psyche. When we draw, we ground ourselves and enter a natural flow state—like meditation. Expressing emotions through drawing can help us gain new perspectives and even create alternate, gentler memories associated with difficult experiences (a reference to my previous article about me battling my depression with comics). It helps us process pain, activates different parts of the brain, and boosts resilience and problem-solving. For people dealing with trauma or anxiety, this non-verbal outlet can be incredibly healing.

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To warm us up, I introduced a small icebreaker: doodle what you usually doodle when you're bored, in meetings, or while waiting. What do you draw? When do you do it? Most had never thought about why they doodle what they doodle. One said she often draws hearts—not because she’s in love, but because it calms her. Another drew braided patterns. Another: flowers. These little marks we make without thinking—what stories do they already carry?

What surprised me most was how quickly the atmosphere shifted. Once the pressure to “be good” vanished, something else emerged: playfulness. People began to experiment, laugh, and take chances. The markers and paper turned into tools for exploration—not performance.

🖍️ One woman doodled abstract shapes and realised she had drawn how her week felt.
🗯️ Another created a faceless figure—only posture and shadow—and told a story of burnout with no words.
🌿 Someone whispered, “This feels like therapy—but with colours.”

And that’s exactly what visual storytelling can do.

Refer a friend

We explored how speech bubbles, facial expressions, body language, and even the absence of characters could say something about how we feel. I encouraged everyone to forget about “drawing themselves” as they are. They could be anyone or anything. Or they could simply draw what they saw around them to reflect how they felt. That invitation unlocked imagination.

Then we began the main exercise: a comic strip in 4–6 panels, where each participant chose a feeling and drew their character, the environment, the emotion, its impact or climax, and finally—how they saw themselves responding to or managing it.

Some drew with humour. Others leaned into something poetic. Some drew metaphors:
✨ Colourful algae glowing in still nighttime water.
✨ A sun appearing after heavy rain.
✨ A steaming cup of tea next to an empty chair.

One drew herself as a lemon because she felt sour. Another—a flower blooming under sunlight. My favourite? A fly. She said, “I felt so small that day, but I managed so much. And if anyone annoyed me, I’d annoy them too.”

When it came time to share, I saw something beautiful. People sat up straighter. There was pride, gentleness, and sometimes quiet courage. Many of the comics came from places of pain, trauma, or deep emotion. But the room held them all—with calm, gratitude, and care. Everyone was given space. And it felt so natural.

By the end, people looked different—not in their faces, but in their posture. Lighter. Grounded. Seen. Sharing felt vulnerable but deeply connecting. We weren’t just drawing emotions—we were witnessing each other.

That’s when I knew: this wasn’t just a creative workshop. It was a space for emotional honesty—a place to tell the truth, safely.

The most common reflections?

✨ “I didn’t expect this to open up so much.”
✨ “I didn’t know drawing could feel like this.”
✨ “I want to keep doing this.”

Visual storytelling, in that little room on Pedersgata, revealed something big:

Expression doesn’t have to be polished to be powerful.
Drawing can hold stories we don’t know how to say.
And creativity—when it’s safe and shared—can heal more than we imagine.

See you soon! With love, Marina 💖

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And so, The Bloom of Workshops began in a little shop called We Bloom—how fitting that the very first seeds were planted there.

The idea was sparked by one of the amazing women I met during the launch journey of my comic book. At the time, I was juggling a lot—planning the Oslo book launch, arranging travel, securing the venue, and trying to spread the word to everyone I knew from Oslo. In the middle of this whirlwind, I was also invited by the charming We Bloom shop on Pedersgata 44, Stavanger to host a workshop. The shop was run by two lovely women from Romania, passionate about art and anything handmade by women. They had created a cosy and authentic community—a space that naturally welcomed creativity with its warm, inviting atmosphere. They were genuinely excited to provide the space for my workshop and eager to offer something meaningful to their community.

And so, The Bloom of Workshops began in a little shop called We Bloom—how fitting that the very first seeds were planted there.

My motivation sprang from a deep curiosity about how art could be a powerful tool for self-expression. I’ve always been drawn to the essence of storytelling and the transformative power of drawing. For this first workshop, the table was laid out with watercolour pens, markers, and all kinds of paper—each material like a quiet invitation to explore something new. The whole scene felt like it was waiting to come alive with colour and emotion.

What made the day even more special were the people who joined me. Some of my dearest friends came to support me, filling the room with warmth and camaraderie. Andreaa arrived with her beloved old projector, helping me set up my slides and connect everything to my Mac. Evelina prepared the table with care and filled the space with the comforting aroma of hand-ground coffee and freshly brewed tea. Together, they also brought delicious, healthy snacks—just what people needed after a long workday. They were, truly, the most genuine and generous hosts I’ve ever met. Their presence and thoughtful touches turned the room into a haven of care and creativity.

A few immediately said, “But I can’t draw!”—a sentence I’ve come to hear often.

As I introduced my comic book, which told the emotional story of my childbirth experience, I could see a mix of curiosity and hesitation in the participants. A few immediately said, “But I can’t draw!”—a sentence I’ve come to hear often. But I gently reminded them of one of my favourite mottos: It doesn’t matter what or how you draw—what matters is the process. I’ve stayed true to this belief in every single workshop since. Because every line, every colour, every doodle is a step toward self-discovery.

That first workshop was so much more than just a session. It was the beginning of something deeply personal and powerful—a spark that lit the path for the Visual Storytelling workshops that followed. Workshops where authenticity, creativity, and heartfelt connection continue to grow.

In the next post, I’ll take you deeper into the wonders of exploring through drawing—and how sharing our stories through comics can open up spaces we never knew we needed.

Warmly, Marina 💖

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When my daughter was born, a profound question struck me:

HOW AM I GOING TO LOVE HER IF I DON’T KNOW HOW TO LOVE MYSELF?
At that moment, I realized that before I could fully give love to my child, I had to learn how to offer that same love and acceptance to myself. It wasn’t just about becoming a mother; it was about truly understanding the relationship I had with myself.

This question sparked a deep, personal journey — a journey to explore WHY I struggled with self-love and HOW I could begin to cultivate it. I started to see that self-love wasn’t selfish or indulgent; it was necessary. It was about embracing my flaws, recognizing my worth, and understanding that being kind to myself allowed me to be more present and loving to those around me.

One of the most beautiful discoveries along the way was realizing that THROUGH SELF-LOVE, YOU GET TO KNOW YOUR TRUE SELF. When you nurture yourself, you begin to peel away the layers of self-doubt, fear, and judgment, revealing who you really are underneath. And it’s in that space of self-acceptance and authenticity that you find the deepest connection with yourself.

And the more connected you are with yourself, the more you can connect with others. WHEN YOU HAVE THAT CONNECTION, YOU CAN TRULY CONNECT WITH OTHERS. Loving yourself isn’t just an internal act; it flows into every relationship you have, especially with the ones you love the most. By knowing and accepting who you are, you create the space to love others in a more genuine, deeper way.

In conclusion, the journey of self-love is not just a path to personal healing; it is a foundation for deeper, more meaningful connections with others. By learning to love and accept myself, I discovered the power of authenticity, which allowed me to be more present for my child and those around me. Self-love is a transformative process that enriches both our personal and professional lives, empowering us to approach challenges with confidence and compassion. As I continue on this path, I wish everyone the best of luck in discovering themselves and practising self-love—it’s a journey worth taking.

Sincerely, Marina

it’s funny how I call myself an introvert. it seems like a cool excuse to avoid the stress of meeting new peopleand being around them. but once I get past that initial threshold, I actually start to enjoy the company. and this has happened many times without me fully realizing it until now.

I do enjoy being on my own very much, too, whether it’s doing something or nothing at all. doing nothing feels great too—it gives my mind space to empty out and lets my heart feel carefree.

but this Sunday, I discovered something new—or rather, I became aware of something that had been a part of me for so long that it had become invisible: the energy of others and how it affects me. this time, I allowed that energy to enter. I let my guard down. I'm not sure what came first—lowering my guard or sensing the energy.

I caught myself on the thought that people can’t be trusted especially when they say nice things.

I often feel out of place in group settings, especially when it's more than one person. trying to read everyone’s emotions and figure out how I can contribute has always been exhausting. this constant effort builds layers of insecurity—like lack of confidence, self-betrayal, missing out on details, and ultimately depriving both myself and others of genuine connection. these layers are heavy to carry, and it's no wonder I feel drained every time I’m in a group.

I do believe I am an introvert more than extrovert. but noticing this made me not only wonder but also experience the other side. I sensed a shift in energy that helped me explore the concept of duality from a new perspective.

I was invited by my dear friend to celebrate the Equinox. she suggested we gather tree twigs from the forest and craft a God’s Eye as a way to honour the day. it would be a symbolic creation to protect us from the growing darkness in the days that follow. and it was also the perfect excuse for us to enjoy a cozy time with tea and coffee in her garden, sparking interesting and meaningful conversations.

I often find myself in this strange internal battle where I advocate for others, insisting they aren’t evil—whoever they may be. But at the same time, I don’t understand why I feel so scared and mistrustful. you might say it’s a coping mechanism, survival mode, or trust issues. you might even say it’s a natural reaction. but being aware of this doesn’t put me in a good light (another internal battle within myself). I really envy those people who instinctively believe that all people are good. and they are good, I know it, I just can’t feel the same way as I know it.

I'm a very visual person. colours, shapes, and compositions evoke feelings in me, and I love being in that flow.

I suppose I can say none of it has ever harmed me or hurt me. from this perspective, the idea of using creation as a medium for people to connect is absolutely BRILLIANT. feeling both in the flow and hostile at the same time made me choose — it made me suddenly aware of a portal I had never stepped through: the portal of trust.

here’s where the duality comes in — trust and mistrust, light and dark, good and bad. It feels almost ironic that this realization came to me on September 22nd, and the day of the equinox. so symbolic! almost like universe sending a message.

but that isn’t the end…

the hostess suggested we share the decisions we’ve made this year that have impacted our lives. another BRILLIANT idea, and it was warmly welcomed by the women in the circle. someone volunteered to go first. “thank you for sharing!”

if I said I had mixed feelings in the usual sense, I’d be lying. but I did have mixed feelings in the sense that there were many, and they were hard to put into words. let me try to sort them:

I have a deep fondness for my friend Susanne, and I admire her way of helping other women. I trust her—that was one clear feeling.

I didn’t know some people in the circle. I felt sceptical about what they were saying.

I was given a task to share about my important decisions, despite that it was a genuinely friendly suggestion. if you remember how I feel obliged to contribute in group settings while trying to read everyone’s emotion.

on top of all that, I was trying to bind together the twigs I had chosen and create a pattern with the yarn. I should also mention that the twigs I picked were the most crooked, and the yarn was so thin that it seemed like it would take me forever to form a pattern. I felt kinda frustrated and impatient.

Susanne also suggested that it’s important to pay attention to how we manage the craft, as it could offer a good opportunity to draw parallels to our internal patterns and how we handle other challenges in life. and there it happened (!), instead of trying hard to read other people and feeling frustrated about my first God’s Eye, I turned to myself.

it’s crazy how we go through life without questioning some of our deep-rooted emotions and feelings—what triggers them, and whether they’re even relevant. according to Lisa Lahey, an author of “Immunity to Change” these deep-rooted unconscious assumptions not only stand in the way of our grasp of reality but also solidify our inability to change and grow.

after I turned inward and focused on myself, instead of trying to read everyone around me, I was able to enjoy the warmth of hugs from people I had just met. I felt the energy I had missed so many times before. instead of feeling exhausted, I felt enlightened and inspired. It was new to me. 

I needed time to understand this feeling, to process it and put it into words. I could feel the change and growth within me after this experience. what a beautiful transition, thanks to my friend Susanne and the other amazing women who joined the circle. I want to take a mental snapshot of this moment and label it: Happiness.

looking forward to many more gatherings like this, filled with growth, connection, and shared energy.

(pages from my Journal)

sincerely, Marina

And then, of course, there’s the brick wall called perfectionism!

The result? A ton of notes, scattered documents filled with ideas, impact projections, and spreadsheets on how to execute them. But no sharing, because the ideas feel too complex, and I lack the patience to unravel them.

The consequence? No impact.

But on the flip side, I’ve managed quite a bit! I’ve illustrated and published my own comic book, launched it in three cities and sold quite a few copies. I’m now working on my second comic book while also publishing bi-weekly strips in the local newspaper. I’ve led several comic-drawing workshops and hosted live talks about the importance of mental health (the central theme of my comics). I’ve been self-educating through books, podcasts, and psychology courses. Oh, and did I mention I’m a single mother, living in a foreign country, speaking two foreign languages? I guess I’m pretty badass!

To my great luck—and sometimes to my great frustration—I meet many inspiring people who support my work and push me to grow. Why the frustration, you ask? Because once I’ve shared my ideas with them, I can no longer find excuses not to pursue them. Mixed feelings, really! On one hand, I get even more excited from their support, but on the other hand, I don’t want to let them down. Is that a good or bad reason? I guess it depends on how you look at it. That’s actually how I ended up starting my Postpartum Talks.

Just yesterday, I live-streamed the Talks on Instagram, where I invited a birth educator to discuss How prepared are we for childbirth and the time after? It was absolutely exhilarating when we pulled it off. Even though only 16 people joined live, I felt like I was making an impact.

Last week, I held a book reading event at a local bar, which was way outside my comfort zone. But the thing about me? I love experimenting and challenging myself, especially when it comes to things I love. Reading my comic book in a stand-up comedy format wasn’t something I’d ever dreamed of, but I figured if I could do it, I’d gain experience, a fresh perspective, more followers, and expand the conversation around postpartum mental health. Naturally, I spent the day after worrying about what people thought of me—something I hope will become less of a hurdle with more public speaking practice. But the most rewarding part? Meeting more women and hearing their stories. I never get tired of that. It’s networking, sure, but it feels like something more—something between networking and making an impact.

So back to being a vision junkie—what I’ve realized about myself is that I’m passionate about making an impact. And achieving one impact never stops me from wanting to create more. Instead of being scared of my endless ideas, I’ve learned to embrace them. Every effort I make is either a small impact or a step toward a larger one. I think I’m finally starting to enjoy the process and, most importantly, to acknowledge that the steps I do take are something to be proud of.

Recently, it felt like the last drop in a glass half full of gratitude and half empty with the visions I have yet to achieve was meeting someone who is just as much of a visionary as I am. But with her own unique mix of experiences, interests, and perspectives. The best part of being an independent entrepreneur and creator is meeting so many beautiful minds that inspire and help shape your visions. Thanks to her, I’m now working on even bigger ideas, and this time, I’m not afraid of them becoming too complex.

Sincerely, Marina

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But then, something unexpected happened. People started liking and commenting. The first comments I received were so supportive and kind, bringing tears of relief and happiness to my eyes. The outpouring of positive feedback was incredibly uplifting. Each comment made me realize that I wasn't alone in my struggles. It was a profound and healing experience to think that someone might read my story, see themselves in it, and understand that there's nothing wrong with asking for help.

This journey of openness has been far from easy. Talking about my mental health, especially the flashbacks from my traumatic childhood, has been one of the hardest things I've ever done. For a long time, it was easier to hide behind a smile, pretending that everything was more than fine. But I knew that if I didn’t confront these issues, the power of the flashbacks would only grow.

That’s why I decided to start a cartoon series about myself—about my struggles and my journey to better mental health. I created an animated character named Marina, a version of myself who engages in short scenes and stories and later in a comic book, too. Through these visual stories, I explore my mental struggles, which is still a challenge for me to be honest about. For many years, I had dealt with these issues on my own, speaking first to a psychologist, then to friends, and then, opening up to the wider world.

Society talks more about the importance of mental health than ever before, but the challenges within it are still heavily stigmatized. This project is my personal exercise in improving my mental well-being—or at the very least, enjoying the process of doodling. But it’s also much more than that. It’s about raising awareness and removing the stigma that surrounds mental health issues.

Hiding my depression, feeling embarrassed by my struggles, and grappling with low self-esteem has been a difficult and isolating experience. I don’t want to feel ashamed anymore—ashamed of not having parents, of not having a caring mother, or of struggling with depression for years. That’s why I committed to being open about my struggles by drawing a cartoon series about the importance of mental health. Now, I share how I started my journey here. I invite anyone who resonates with this to join me here and on my Instagram where I share most of my comics and activities.

The process of creating these cartoons is deeply personal. Sometimes, it feels impossible to love myself. The pain of carrying so much self-hate often manifests physically, with sharp pain in my shoulders. I’ve had to confront the all-or-nothing attitude that has been ingrained in me—a pattern imprinted by those in my life who didn’t love me, even as I sacrificed myself to love them.

I never felt comfortable with the word Perfectionist and preferred to stay away from the word. But that doesn't mean that I am not the one. I never paid so much attention to how much stress and dissatisfaction I get from being a perfectionist. Until recently when I started a bunch of projects on my own, like drawing, painting, and writing. The more I did the more it got worse. I was never happy with results, freaking out about any failure or mistake so I couldn't finish some of my work because all my attention was on my mistakes where I felt like a mistake myself. This all-or-nothing attitude cost my concentration and simple joy from the process. I really understand that it's enough to be good enough, that by failing we learn and the journey is the most important. But I couldn't feel it. It wasn't enough to understand the logic behind it. I ended up asking myself a question: "What is wrong with you?" And felt like in a locked circle.

Self-criticism rapped into perfectionism and was impacting my daily life by depriving me of sleep and joy from doing what I truly love.

Gradually, I began to recognize in me the child I was, desperately trying to impress her mother. But she either took my achievements for granted or hardly paid any attention. But mistakes and failures were a big deal taking me 10 steps back. This pattern belittled my ego almost to zero and implanted a huge inner critic which grew year by year. It still impacts my life although I cut contact with my mother years ago. But it helps to see the reason behind this all-or-nothing nonsense and reminds me to be kind to the child in me who was never celebrated.

I came across this sentence while reading and I had to note it down because it's so good: "Mistakes do not make me a mistake. Every mistake or mishap is an opportunity to practice loving myself in the places I have never been loved." Pete Walker

The inner critic isn’t always evil or negative. In fact, a healthy inner critic can be kind and supportive. Unfortunately, that’s not the inner critic I’ve known. I can hardly believe I managed all these years with the wrong one. How did I ever have any energy left after enduring all the insults and bullying from my inner critic? At one point, I even concluded that I was just overly emotional. You know where that comes from!

As I mentioned before, perfectionism can wear many faces. For a powerless, unsupported child, it provides a sense of meaning and direction. By delivering what the child believes to be the best results, they hope to receive love, because failures and mistakes seem to only make their parents angry. This perception of imperfection triggers a deep fear of abandonment, which over time, transforms into self-hate—and sometimes, that self-hate intensifies into self-disgust. It sounds horrible, doesn’t it? Yet, I wasn’t even aware of how harshly I was treating myself. I thought it was normal, that this is how people grow and mature. Instead, I found myself spiralling downward into fear, shame, and eventually, depression.

At some point, I harboured a lot of anger, but I kept suppressing it. I realized that anger wouldn’t just disappear—it would only grow until I addressed it properly. The first step I took was telling everything to my mother and cutting off contact with her, partly because I was still afraid of being manipulated and belittled again. The second step was opening up and refusing to take the blame and shame for things that weren’t my fault. Now, I’m writing here with full honesty. I guess the next step, according to my illustration, will be climbing some remote mountain and SCREAMING! Somehow, I have no doubt that it will make me feel better. 😀

This journey has been deeply transformative, marked by both painful realizations and moments of profound healing. In opening up about my struggles, I've not only found relief but also discovered a supportive community I never anticipated. Through sharing my story and art, I hope to inspire others to confront their own inner critics and break free from the patterns that have held them back. It's an ongoing process that demands patience, self-compassion, and a willingness to face difficult truths. With each step, I’m realizing that vulnerability is okay, mistakes are part of growth, and asking for help is a strength. Most importantly, I'm learning to be kinder to myself—a practice that I believe can lead to a more fulfilling and authentic life.

I am thrilled to announce the launch of Postpartum Talks, beginning next month. Our first discussion will focus on a topic that couldn't be more common in our lives and couldn't be more overlooked than it has been: Childbirth Impact.

Why This Topic?

Childbirth is a life-changing event that brings joy, challenges, and profound transformation to a woman's life. Yet, the conversations surrounding this experience often remain superficial, leaving many women feeling unprepared and unsupported. 

Having gone through a long postpartum depression for almost five years, I feel extra motivated to bring awareness to the impact of childbirth and the following journey of motherhood. Imagine giving birth to your first child, expecting joy and fulfilment, only to find yourself lost in a fog of overwhelming emotions. This was my reality seven years ago when I became a mother. I didn’t expect to feel so overwhelmed, confused, and lost. Instead of feeling joy, I found myself locking my feelings, overwhelm, and confusion in a net of shame, using whatever energy I had left to pretend to be a good and happy mother.

I wish I had known so many things during those first years of my motherhood. The stories I heard after giving birth were far from the reality I experienced. I was unprepared for the intensity of the emotions that came with motherhood and the mental health struggles that followed. It wasn’t until my doctor noticed my distress 11 months later that I began to get the help I needed.

This journey has shown me the importance of creating a supportive space where we can talk openly about these experiences. I am passionate about starting these conversations and helping other mothers feel seen, heard, and supported.

With the Childbirth Impact discussion, I aim to dig deeper into the realities of childbirth, exploring the physical, emotional, and mental changes that women experience during pregnancy and after childbirth.

What to Expect?

The objective of our panel discussion is to foster an insightful and meaningful conversation that addresses:

• The Physical and Emotional Changes: 

Understanding how pregnancy and childbirth affect women both physically and emotionally, and how these changes impact our overall well-being. Pregnancy and childbirth bring about profound physical and emotional transformations in a woman's body and mind. Physically, women may experience a range of changes—from the obvious ones like weight gain and hormonal shifts to more complex issues such as postpartum recovery, including perineal healing, cesarean recovery, and changes in pelvic floor strength. These physical changes can impact a woman’s self-esteem, body image, and daily functioning. 

Emotionally, the transition to motherhood can be just as intense. Women may feel a mix of emotions—joy, anxiety, fear, and even sadness. The emotional rollercoaster is often influenced by fluctuating hormones, the demands of caring for a newborn, and the pressure to adapt to a new identity as a mother. These emotional changes can affect a woman’s overall well-being, her relationships, and her ability to bond with her baby. Understanding these changes and normalizing them is crucial in helping women navigate this challenging yet rewarding phase of life.

• Mental Health During and After Childbirth: 

The mental health challenges that arise during pregnancy and postpartum are often overlooked, yet they are incredibly significant. Conditions such as postpartum depression, anxiety, and postpartum psychosis can develop, sometimes without the mother fully recognizing the symptoms. These conditions can be triggered by a range of factors, including hormonal changes, sleep deprivation, and the overwhelming responsibility of caring for a newborn.

Childbirth trauma, which can result from a difficult or unexpected birth experience, also has a profound impact on mental health. Women who experience childbirth trauma may struggle with feelings of fear, guilt, and inadequacy long after the birth. It’s essential to address these issues openly and provide women with the tools and support they need to manage them. Mental health care should be a priority during and after childbirth, with accessible resources and a strong support network to help women cope with the challenges they face.

• Childbirth Trauma: 

Childbirth trauma is a reality for many women, yet it’s often not talked about enough. This trauma can result from a variety of factors, including long or painful labor, emergency interventions, or feeling unsupported during the birth process. The psychological impact of childbirth trauma can be deep and long-lasting, leading to issues such as post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), anxiety, and depression.

It’s important to bring this issue to light, acknowledging that not all birth experiences are positive and that it’s okay to feel traumatized by what was supposed to be a joyful event. We will explore how childbirth trauma manifests—both physically and emotionally—and discuss the lasting effects it can have on a woman’s mental health and her relationship with her child. By understanding childbirth trauma, we can work towards creating better support systems and resources for women, helping them heal and empowering them to reclaim their birth experiences.

• Preparation for Childbirth and Beyond: 

Preparing for childbirth and the postpartum period is crucial, yet many women find themselves feeling unprepared and unsupported. While childbirth education classes and prenatal care often focus on the physical aspects of birth, there is often less emphasis on the emotional and psychological preparation needed for both childbirth and the postpartum period.

This discussion will highlight the importance of comprehensive preparation that includes not just the physical aspects, but also the mental and emotional readiness for the journey ahead. We will discuss the current gaps in support systems—such as the lack of information on postpartum mental health, the limited access to postpartum care, and the absence of community support for new mothers. By bringing together insights from professionals like midwives, doulas, and mothers who have gone through these experiences, we aim to identify what’s missing and what needs improvement.

Our goal is to ensure that every woman feels prepared, supported, and empowered throughout the entire childbirth experience—from the moment she finds out she’s pregnant to the months and years after her baby is born. This holistic approach to preparation can make a significant difference in turning childbirth and the postpartum period into a more positive, manageable, and fulfilling experience.

Join the Conversation

This is more than just a discussion—it’s the beginning of a movement to bring much-needed awareness and support to the issues surrounding childbirth. By initiating these conversations, we hope to empower women, improve care, and ensure that every woman feels supported through her journey into motherhood.

I am excited to bring together a panel of knowledgeable professionals and brave women willing to share their stories. Together, we can create a space where honest, open dialogue leads to real change. I know the topic is huge, and we may not be able to cover everything in one discussion. However, we can always arrange more discussions in the future, as long as we show enough interest and engagement. Your participation is key to making this an ongoing conversation that continues to grow and address the many facets of childbirth and postpartum life.

Stay Tuned!

More details will be coming your way soon, including the date and time of our first session, as well as information on how to participate. Whether you are a mother, a mother-to-be, or simply someone interested in the topic, your voice is valuable, and I invite you to join us in this important discussion.

Let’s make childbirth and the postpartum experience a more positive, supported, and informed journey for every woman.

Stay tuned for more details 🌸

I need to write a post for my Instagram, try a live stream, launch my YouTube channel, write descriptions for the events I agreed on and share about them, draft my second comic book… and the list of To-Do things goes on without a switch button on the back of my head. Summer is a terrible time for working from home when you have a bored 6-year-old daughter whose addiction to iPad grows day by day together with my feeling of guilt for being a bad mother. Luckily, she is jumping her legs off now on a trampoline at her friend’s.

A week ago I was part of a giveaway with a psychologist Ingvill Øvsthus on Instagram. It featured my comic book That Time and a free subscription to her tools, online meetings, courses and literature for newly become mothers.

It was my first Giveaway and I was also featured in her podcast Mammehjerte a week earlier.

Finally, I found time to create a post on my Instagram to thank Ingvill for the collaboration and her interest in me. Now I am writing a newsletter, something I have been planning to start for some time.

This worrisome summer motivated me to write my business plan. I worked on it for two days, as much as I could, with frequent breaks to play with my daughter and our new family member, a kitten named Norlys. Now, I am officially on the path to becoming a multifaceted influencer and creative mentor.

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