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195 Deviations
Artist // Photography
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My Bio

A shy dryad from the deepest Forest. Soul wandering in the Mist. Witch full of Nature Magic. Creature from old tales...

Hello to everyone who wander into the depths of my Deviant Gallery here.

I create mainly self-portraits (in photography and traditional drawing/painting techniques) inspired by the beauty of world which arounds me every day. World of calm, quiet and amazing Magic that we can find in the Wind, Mist or even Storm as well as in the sensuality of everyday life. Magic that doesn't need words. Welcome in my World of Spells.

More my works is available on

She couldn't sleep. Something strong from deep within her was pushing her outwards. Into the darkness of the night. Despite the injury, she followed the wind of the soul. Without thinking, she headed west. In the sleeping silence of the night, the warm song of birds put her in a specific mood, and the illuminating flashes in the sky directed her slow steps to the river. On the way, she met a recently killed Tree, and spent some time with this being. As she approached the river, her mind was filled with the roaring noise of the rising water. Standing at the edge of the open space, she absorbed her surroundings. The sounds and smell of the river mingling with the silent spectacle of the Storm. The wind dancing with her to the accompaniment of a whole natural orchestra...
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Home of the Art. Home for the Art. When people of faith left this place, seeing only dead walls, building materials etc., artistic sensitivity noticed the harmony of the layout, the journey of light, the possible power of sounds in this unique room. It's because of the artists - of many different kinds of art - the Pearl haven't collapsed, and today can amaze eyes, ears, hearts and souls with pure energy of natural spirit. "When I'm here I feel I can touch the time". "Of course, there are beautiful operas theatres, philharmonics. But the Pearl tells the story itself". "Music, spectacles, exhibitions - all of them are experienced deeper when being amongst these old walls." Saying "Goodbye" to the guests of our artistic events organised or co-organised while seeing them so happy, filled with emotions touching their cores. Such moments, such words which, like honey on tired heart, make soul happy, when so many years, so many storms, battles, tears... all of them transform into pure satisfaction of well done job. I remember when 11 years ago we were in the beginning of the path as Your Heritage Foundation. After organising some small events - singing poetry, patriotic songs concerts here and there, we started to search for abandoned monument that needed help. Wilk said: " Siscat, formally we can work in the whole Poland, as well as abroad, but for now, let's find something close. So Poland, but no Lower Silesia and no church (or other sacral building)". Why so? First thing - distance. Second thing - in the very catholic country it's really difficult to give new life, new function for such places, even abandoned, even damaged. So, what I found...? Church. In Lower Silesia... And I don't regret it. In past days - evangelical church. Nowadays - still changing, still evolving multifunctional cultural arena. The Temple of Art and Light. My little Sanctuary for the imagination and creativity. P.S. Our second property is also sacral monument. Abandoned, ruined former nunnery. Also in Lower Silesia. But this time the distance is closer. Only few hours of good walk from the Pearl. "Point of view depends on the point of sitting" as people say.
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4 min read
July 22, 2023 The nice coolness coming through the window gently pulls me out of Dreamland. I lazily open my eyes. Blue sky above me, sleeping Spriggan next to me, Pixie at the computer. As soon as they see that I woke up, they come for morning tenderness, purring, stretching. 7:00 o'clock - a pretty decent time to get out of bed. Downstairs, Wierzba has also awakened, causing the kittens to gallop wildly towards her. With loud meows, they rush to greet her. Me too, but quietly and slowly. Morning toilet, basic sweeping, a glass of water for me, a shower of homemade dew for the flowers. Breakfast for furries. After a while, the apartment fills with pure joy, audible in soft, warm munching. When their tummies are full, Wierzba asks for the opportunity to go out to the balcony - she makes herself comfortable and, alternately: with blissfully closed eyes, inhales the scents reaching her sensitive nose and watches the world from above. Meanwhile kitties devote themselves to the quiet cleaning of their paws, mouths and vibrissae. Now there is a moment for a nice meeting - this time with Ursula K. LeGuin "No time to spare. Thinking about what matters.". At some point, Spriggan comes to rub against the book. Yes. It's time for coffee and my breakfast. This text reminded me of another, much older one. A lot of time has passed, a lot has happened... December 3, 2020 It's 4 in the morning. I can't sleep. Again. I lie in bed with my eyes closed, pretending that the world doesn't exist, that I will squeeze into the reality of dreams for a moment. After a few, maybe several dozen minutes (who knows exactly how quickly seconds pass when you lie in the dark emptiness of your dragging thoughts...) I take a book. Maybe it will tire my eyelids enough? The December Wind plays cold stories on the old, tired logs of my cottage. Ok, the Wind won. I can see the outline of a Linden tree dancing with him outside the window, so I get out of bed. The chill outside the duvet is instantly refreshing. The thermometer at home shows 14 degrees. Wierzba welcomes me with sleeping joy. Of course, we go outside together - after all, she has to help me! The wind is colder than I thought, but I still don't want to put on anything but a dressing-gown. I have the impression that the world around it is strained to the limits of stretch with cold. Even Wierzba enters with me to the boiler room. Then time for the horses. They are a bit surprised to get breakfast at a time when they are still snoring tasty, but not whining abou it at all. The quiet, warm crunch of hay slowly spreads in the stable, while the Wind and Frost invincibly invite to a dance in which hands ossify in a flash. Wierzba was so "brave" that moved for a meter from the wall of the house... Moments after we return inside, there is a tugging at the door handle. Lord Nothing Good (Sol has many nicknames, this week reigns this one). He can't come with us. Never... He always knocks a few minutes later... Sometimes I get the feeling that he is lurking outside watching the front door, then counting down "this time!". With a soft but imperious murmur, he demands breakfast. When everyone is satisfied and with full bellies they can continue lazy snoring, I watch the blue world outside the window by the light of a calm candle. For a moment, even the wind stopped. The silence is such huge that I can hear the water heating in the pipes. It will be warmer in the house soon. Only Lord Nothing Good has burned his whisker in the flame of a candle. Again. The sky in the east is slowly turning pink. I think it's time for a moment for myself and small morning coffee. Photo from the morning of December 2020:
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Profile Comments 61

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really nice stuff here.

U have wonderful concepts, composure, framing n most importantly the perfect tonality, that brings out the best in ideas like these.

Ur art feels very complete n whole.

I love the magic of your gallery; the witchy feeling in particular, that so many of your photos have! Brilliant work! :thumbsup::) !

Nice to hear so. Thank you.

I love your gallery, your self-portraits are super beautiful! I love the atmosphere you create!

Absolutely adore your work! I love the connection you have with the earth and nature and how well that speaks through your work!

Thanks for the faves!! I apologize for the lateness of my reply, I'm trying to get my RPG finished!! I'm working on the 2nd level right now!! Check it out at

Keep up the good work!! I've got something planned for the new year, I'll let you know on my journals!!