When there is only noting…


Not even darkness, black dog or however you call it. When all those regulations and rituals fail, are not enough, when even pills are not strong enough, but you are smart enough what new pills can do with you…

When everything collapses, you are still jobless, and your own project, your love, is something what nobody cares about. And it is okay, but not okay for people you know, who wants only the results not the fun of discovering something, the process of researching, looking for answers…

When you are unable to go out even with your own Husband who is really amazing and buys you a troll and the most beautiful piece of labradorith…

You are still in this place where there is that sign “The End” and it is on. Because it is the only thing I can always do it. The only thing which was making me alive. However weird it sounds. When you struggle with anxiety, depression, memories of the past still hitting you. Love self esteem, in fact don’t full yourself, there is no self anything in me. I do not believe in myself. My art is for sale and nobody wants it, so it means it is lousy and I so wanna burn it everything but it is drought so I can not. I have no 5000 DKK to pay for it, and I am too smart to know that it would easily burn half of my Island, at least… but I want to destroy most of them so much.


I am in the lowest point and still digging, covered with tones of mud and trash, and others dreams which I should be a part of. And of course others thoughts which somehow strikes me even through internet. Because humans are evil.

It will never change…

And nope, it is not calling for help… it is my life. Because when you live with all that mess for you whole life, you can decided… to let it go, or to accept it. I chose the second way, and decided it is a part of me. But it is so hard to get someone who gets it. Even those who struggles with the same, even artists and scientists… they should know better, but the truth is, you can easily hear: just smile, and go for a walk, what pisses me off. Exercises! Fuck! I do it 5 days a week!

Internet changed everyone in doctors, coaches and all that stuff of people who are always ready to say something but never listen or… read. Read and understand what they are reading…

From sunrise til sunset

Really… I could not sleep, nervous, panicking… so I done it.


Or insane? Because in fact it was such a crazy, full day.

I was planing it for autumn not late spring! I mean really, but I am always sure that the time will appear when it wants to. It always happens so…


Still, remember one thing. Here since June until about late August our nights are quite bright. Even very bright. We do not get this deep darkness at all. What is really sad and makes me ill.

But it is how it is.

I can not do anything to change it, so… I am joining it. LOL Joining this sun running through the sky. Burning, hot, painful sun…

And the sea of course.

With all those amazing, fresh green, almost fluorescent, soft, lovely seaweeds.

Which with full day changed into this.

Amazing dance of waves, greenery and stones. And sand of course. And saltiness. Oh my, maybe it was a very cold bath, but also so awesome!!!

And then… after all this work and craziness, me jumping into the sea, screaming, then coming back… colors came…

They always amaze me.

Even if the sky is not very cloudy, and there is lack of funny shapes, there are always those shades, colors and weirdly warm coat which is covering me. Burring me under this weird happiness which I do not feel.


I done it. Took me many hours, but I done it. And guess what! I could not sleep again! Oh my, WTF!!!

Summer and poppies

Sooo… Happy Summer!

For those who are happy about, what probably is everyone except me.

I mean really, ow the heck someone can be such a winter, or mixed autumn and winter. Because this is who I am. Really. I do not feel comfy with summer. In fact even as a kid I was waiting until it ends and lets me come back to school!

I know, weird, right?

Even with all those green woods, and long grass and fruits and veggies and maybe swimming… with all those birds learning to fly, deer coming to my garden and of course poppies.

Yup… poppies.

Amazing redness disappearing from our sight.

Because I still am mourning fields of poppies in which I could play. Poppies singing when dried and shaken by winds… Poppies amazing with all those wrinkled petals, fragile, still so strong. Poppies and cornflowers.

Yeah… how hard it is to find them nowadays.

Happy Solstice Everybody!!!




Cunning women, folk healers, oh there is a lot of us. Different. Surprising. Diversified, mixed, differential… playing with magic. Forces of nature. Those who are always together, dancing, having bonfires, and those who prefer to work alone. Often helping those giving birth, midwifes. There is so many of us. Some see future, have “feelings”, some play with herbs, others are pure magic. Having different names in many cultures, different meanings… all through centuries were praised and punished. People were scared of those having knowledge and no penises, but also…

… needed them.


I was watching this documentary… amazingly done, and not as usual I really watched it not only listened to it, because I am looking for information about trials. For those animations, for those simple pieces, which created a masterpiece. And I never knew it was a child… I never knew it was just a girl. Or maybe it was not? 9 years in 1612 was in fact enough to be a young adult. You were not a kid anymore, you survived plagues, you can probably even breed. But still, you are a kid. Unmarried, short, thin but already full of knowledge. Wisdom of your grandmothers. Are you a witch? Well, in my meaning all women are if they want to, but was sh a witch, probably nope. She was just…

… hungry.



All those trials are so unfair now. Always. And for a modern human being “full” of science unable to be understood, but still, again, when I say: I am a witch. People first laugh. Then tell me I am not ugly or old to call myself so, to insult myself. Then, after I repeated it million times they ask: but a god one? Or maybe you will curse me… and then comes this weird laugh of a person which is scared. Unknown of things which are around her or him, still pretending: I am an atheist! Oh bugger! if you are one, why you suddenly believe in me? Maybe now, I am your god? LOL

Then I started to read this book… and I sunk in Pendle area. Googling, researching. Trying to get into this with full me. Because Sharon Bolton, who I love for her books, gave me to think about myself with her words. And about witchcraft, pagans, different believes (except those of the book) today. About all this misunderstanding. About older women in Poland who still can do so much (wiedźmy, szeptuchy, zaklinaczki). About all his fashion to be a witch. A part of something. About man trying to create in this pagan freedom weird christian like “ordnung”.

And about me… who is free.

Who knows things, but also does not have a desire to be a part of some weird religion. I just wanna be like my grandmothers, free. Was one of them punished for witchcraft ages ago? Probably… would I be now? Well? If a Catholic priest curses someone, and then a lightning strikes this guy’s house, who should be blamed? God or the Priest? In fact people laughed, called it a witchcraft, in fact they said, not saying it, that their God is not real, unable to do it… yeah, something like this had happened in Poland. Weird country, but when I look at USA seems so normal.

Scary feeling…

Sooo… the guy whose house was damaged went to court and blame the priest and his god. Guess what? There will be no trial. So what? Is your God unreal? Or maybe both of them were… guys? What if a woman done it?

What if?

Would there be a trial…

I look at this world and even without TV, news and all that stuff I am scared of it. And I am sure of one thing… READ!!! People, read books!!! Watch documentaries not stupid, whatever is in TV. Learn history. Leave the fucking beach body, just go for a walk, into the woods, between the rocks, listen, feel it…and wear what you want. Stop being so closed minded. Be open. But always have this sieve close. Remove stupidity, keep old peoples knowledge. It never gets old in fact.


Witches or not… dig in books! Not into celebrities world. Or whatever are they called. What is now posh? Huge ass? Or small one?

PS. Have you noticed that when you say “I believe” people trust you quicker, that when you say “I know”? When you use “know”, they always ask: but from where? Or is it only me who finds such people?

Old stuff

Oh yes.

The mighty old stuff.

Antics. Some can be so expensive, some are only replicas, huge lies. Some are inspirations. Because somehow old stuff is still posh. Belongs to those the richest. But not the old I consider old…

But archaeologists are weird. LOL

Still… life taught me that old stuff is amazing, beautiful, worth rescuing, refreshing, but also… it still holds memories of those before us. Can be a lesson, but also a huge pain in the ass. Yeah, sorry but this is how it is. Try to get inside one of the antic shops. Smell it, feel it, listen…

Or just look around… ad see this amazing bench.

Someone decided that it is perfect with amazingly blue wood, and rusty rest. And this person was right. It is one of the cutest pieces I have ever seen. Old, but not old enough in my meaning. Rusty, unclean but also so perfectly finished. You can sit here, take a short or longer est, eat something…

Or maybe just look though those swirly pieces. Feel in love with rusty colors, imperfect perfections and all this charm. Old. For some people trashy and useless, but for some… art. Pure and recycled.


So, how it is with you?

Do you buy old stuff and give it more life, or like me you run away from them. Because you know how it is to have at home something what was so loved by someone, then threw out by those who had to clean up her life… and live with it? What? Am I too spooky for you today? Well, maybe I am. I know one thing. Old books were burnt by many tribes because they were described as those which are the easiest way to carry souls, ghosts inside them. Paper, wood, words…

Interesting, right?

Flowers in Gudhjem

Why we fight for plants? For flowers and trees?

Why we cry here, on this island, over one tree, when so may have fallen?


Because living without them would be death.

We need plants.

Nature. We need them wild, we need them in pots, we need them for bees, and ourselves… we need herbs and just those which are only colors and aromas. We need them to learn ow different they can be. We need them… to give as gifts, to say with they: I love you, I am sorry, please forgive me.

Does anyone still remembers what flower colors mean?

Which is love, which is jealousy, which is miss you…

Or nobody cares?

Or maybe we notice flowers only for Instagram… we do not remember their names, o not care at all, and suddenly fake plants in pots are so popular. Yes, I know they look sooo real, but they are not real. No way!

So how it is about you?

Maybe you are crazy as me about nature, or just do not care, because what for have a pot with a flower if it can die… yes it can. It is like a human. Needs to be talked to needs to be taken care of, watered, and even talked… yeah, plants are amazing listeners. Although they sometimes can get brown of you, annoyed, still, they want you breathing. How cool is that? Someone loves you only for breathing!!!

YAY for humanity! Right? We are needed!!!

I love plants.

Simple plants, crazy, surprising… I love them. Yup, I feel awful if I buy one and it dies, it is so sad. I am dreaming about my own home, garden – not so fancy, calm down – and of course a woodland. For now I have trees i pots, but you got to dream and start doing something, right? LOL

Gudhjem, one of my fav places on my island can be stunning in every time of year. But with all those flowers, it melts me! Always.


Or… no orange?

Somehow it is a weird color for me. Amazing, warm and tempting, but still screaming: danger, beware, stay tuned!!!

Color which I still do not feel comfy with. But on pictures, oh it looks amazing. So rich. So independent.

And with a yellow, uneven wall… so rustic, but also still posh. Because of yellow diamonds and citrine, and oh my, so many stones in those sunny, warm colors. So many beaches, so many roses… honey. And pee… oh well, color like color, right? What else? Amber? Oh yes, resin can also has this special shade of orange and yellow.

And maybe pie…

But still, why I have such problems with warm colors?

I mean I can not wear them, but still, I am looking for them.

Yellow poppies, golden walls.

So why?

Is it something in my past, still hidden, or maybe hidden forever because I promised myself to never touch this memory again? Or is it gold, yellow metals which i am not fan at all. In fact they burn me somehow…

Or maybe too many books again?

Because gold, yellow, orange, just like purple, was always only for kings and gods? Maybe I feel too little to be wrapped in it? Or maybe it is visibility? Because those shades scream so loud. They wanna be seen, touched, described, noticed, cherished. They wanna be a part of every story, every dream and every lovely moment. Just look at sunsets. And sunrises. Why this what is romantic is also in fact… orange?

… or maybe peachy? Peaches are safe, right? Maybe I could start from this, because I can not deal with citruses. Nope, sorry. So peaches, okay, and nectarines, right? And maybe yellow cherries. h I could have some now! LOL

Sea life

Green, fluffy stones… pieces of wood and shells.

This amazing white sand, and pieces of amber, here so tiny…

Driftwood, sunny rays, shades and of course wild roses, and this special grass. Which can be so painful. Bugs, fish, boats and ships somewhere too close or too far away.

Sea life.

Always changing, always moving even if you think it is still and silent. Always full of creations, surprises…

Sometimes I think that even my small island is a bit too big for me. That maybe a lighthouse would be much more perfect? Loneliness, watching everlasting goes by… just not caring about fashion, smiley faces, dressing up, make ups, all that stuff. Being a woman, being brave, not showing pain…

Being this kind of human, which this world wants us all to be.

Sometimes I think, that only watching nature is so much enough for me. Nature and of course pieces which were left here by those before us. Those who maybe also thought so. Those who ha so much more time to just watch, think and imagine… Those still so secret, so unspoken, so interesting.

Especially when those fluorescent green pieces grow on stones… of course I know they only attache to them, but still… this is so happy and fluffy, even when the sea is closer to freezing than semi cold. LOL

You just jump in, screaming, and have fun! Because it is only a moment. Only a day, maybe few… which can be yours.

And those black pieces.

A mix of coal and shells. Black and blue ones. This is so cool. You can get them, catch them, and create amazing mosaic. One and only. Art from already arty pieces. Like… here, on this beach is only inspiration. Nothing more. Something to paint, to write about, to sculpture, to craft…

Something for everyone.

Yes, this is one of my fav beaches. Including the woods, which surround it, it is a perfect environment. Usually with no people except me. Like, I was so rich, that have my own piece of land. Finally. But it is only a dream… it will disappear.


Brick and glass

I hate sunbathing.

I do not get this calming, just sitting on a beach and browning or more like getting red… but there is the sea and I do so love swimming. I do it until I loose all my strength, until my head starts to feel weirdly light and I get dizzy. But then I need to dry out, right.. and take some photos.

And when it comes to photos, beaches are amazing.

Especially when there is no humans around!!! Perfect. Amazing, soft sand, and I found my actors, or more like models. Meet the Green Blade and Was a Brick

And my poor Husband, who I finally had to call to help me. Nope, doing it alone, jumping, putting pieces up, coming back to the camera, lying down, and seeing that the wave again made them down… Yup, husbands can be so useful. Although I do not he is sometimes like: we are doing it for an hour or so, woman, stop it… but he says nothing. I so love him for that!!!

Still, it is never easy.

Even when you have such amazing models. Already recreated, changed, sculpted by the mighty sea. By waves and soft sand.

And then taken away…

… like a moment, which you are given by nature, and which you can use, or just walk by. You can have fun or just do not care. Because, if you did not notice, it was only a piece of brick and a piece of some green glass. And some sand, amazing, soft sand, and some seaweeds, and some sea…

Sometimes I think that we are loosing so much. We walk too quickly, look not carefully enough… but then my obsession strikes, and I try to look at everything and touch everything and in fact again, I see nothing. I try to do everything, and am with nothing, so you need this golden mean. Because it is also god to sometimes close your eyes and do not care. Only smell the air, or only listen, or…

Okay, sorry, have a sunset to take care of and a bucket of ice cream!!! LOL

Running away…

I am so running away.

Recently running away from everything. From that awful drought and painful sun, and open fields, and… even nature. I can not hide anywhere except my home. But even here it does not work. Even here.

Of course I know what is going on, I am back, again, in that weird place which for me is not dark, because darkness is soothing and safe, darkness is simple, here we all are the same. No differences. No lies. No words and only my mind creating weirdest visions and dreams. Like this one where I suddenly was lost in Russia, and was asking someone to show me the road to Sweden.

I mean really…

Or this one dream, so green, so amazing, but also so dangerous. No road, tall wild grass everywhere, a pond which I am step away, in fact everything around is watered and I could swear I can hear a waterfall… and I know, I will soon be dead, so… maybe this Sweden??? But why Sweden? Is it because it is closer to my island?

Still… I am running away.

Turning off my Facebook, just playing with Instagram but only once a day, just to post something. You can see my posts. There are photos, but not much words. Not like me at all… am I also running away from me? Or maybe I have decided? Finally? Because I am accepting my depression, anxiety, all those disorders which glued to me, but the rest of the world is in this point when they are ready to say: take a pill or just rest or go for a walk. Are you fucking kidding me? I am with me for a long time. I know how to use those soft activities. I exercise until my mind turns off, but only for a moment. I have documents turned on to only not listen to myself.

Am I also running away from myself? But I am good in being myself. So maybe I am only running away from this world. And now the world around me is full of tourists which are rude an scary. So, maybe it will pass, but what it is wont? What if I fail again? What if… well, if so, I will be in this madness. Madness also is a part of this world. deal with it humans!!! If one door open, others can close or be open, or lead you to a fucking dungeon. So nope, do not send me all those stupid quotes.

The only truth is what you feel now… the rest is the past which my mind changed, and the future which, well, for a poor someone sucks. Yes, it is also a pint when I wanna invite you to my shop! For me selling my art is now everything.

Contact me for smaller prices!!!