My childhood in rural Poland was shaped by woodlands that were more than just scenery; they were the architects of my imagination. In Eastern Europe, the forest is a complex layer of culture—a source of shelter and food, but also a sanctuary for myths and the shadows of things left unsaid. It is a place where “embarrassing” secrets and hazardous performances were pushed into the darkness, away from the rigid norms of village life. As a child, I experienced the woods through two distinct lenses. With my mother, the forest was utilitarian—a place for the harvesting of berries and mushrooms. With my father, it was a realm of intimacy and intuition. We searched for unusual shapes and gave names to the strange, twisted trees. It was in that shared space that the forest became a zone of psychological freedom—a place where the “abnormal” was finally welcome.

This collection emerged from an art residency at Dorothy Denise Dengler’s forest in Mississippi, a landscape that felt like a return to those walks with my father. It was intuitive, magical, and deliberately un-rationalized.