There are artists who create from inspiration, and then there are artists who create from devotion. Kasia Muzyka belongs to the latter.
Her work feels like a prayer — a meeting point between art and ritual, the visible and the unseen, where memory, myth, and the feminine soul intertwine.
In this intimate conversation, Kasia opens up about her creative process, the sacred nature of art, and how she channels the divine feminine through her paintings and installations.
Speaking softly yet powerfully, she reminds us that art is not merely something to be looked at — it is something to be experienced with the body, the senses, and the heart.
Join us as we explore her world — where brushstrokes become offerings, symbols hold ancestral memory, and creation itself becomes a sacred act of remembering who we are.
Your debut solo exhibition The Sacred Condition of Being opened in Chelsea this June and deeply moved audiences. What does this title mean to you personally?
For me, The Sacred Condition of Being is about remembering the feminine—our ability to receive, to flow, to create life out of mystery.
When I say feminine, I mean the energy that lives in both men and women. The title honors the tender, cyclical, and transformative nature of existence.
It’s an invitation to be present with what is sacred in simply being alive.
Much of your work centers around the sacred feminine. How do you define or experience the sacred feminine in your life and art?
For me, the sacred feminine is not about gender but about energy—an essence of receptivity, intuition, and creation that both men and women carry.
It is the deeper knowing and surrender—the presence to life itself. In my life and art, it shows up as trust in the unseen, as cycles of birth and transformation, and as the quiet power of presence that allows what is hidden to be revealed.
You describe the female body as an “archive of generational experience.” Can you share how this understanding shapes the way you create?
I see the female body as an archive of generational experience—holding memory, resilience, and unspoken stories in its very cells. This awareness shapes my art as an act of listening to what the body remembers, even beyond my own lifetime.
When I create, I allow those hidden layers—pain, beauty, wisdom—to surface, transform, and take form on the canvas.
Ritual seems to be at the heart of your practice. What role does ritual play in your personal healing and your creative process?
Ritual is how I attune myself to presence—it slows me down, grounds me, and opens the space where creation can happen.
In my personal healing, ritual becomes a way to honor what is moving through me; in my art, it transforms the act of painting into a sacred dialogue with life itself.
Growing up in post-Soviet Poland, you’ve inherited certain cultural and structural imprints. How has that background influenced your exploration of memory and transformation in your art?
I grew up in Soviet Poland—I was born in 1977, and the system shifted when I was twelve. That experience left me with both resilience and silence—an atmosphere where much was unspoken yet deeply felt.
It shaped my fascination with memory and with what lies beneath the surface. In my art, transformation comes from excavating those layers—personal, cultural, ancestral—and turning them into spaces of beauty, remembrance, and renewal
Embodiment is a recurring theme in your work. How do you personally stay connected to your body while creating?
Embodiment means you become what you speak, what you feel, what you explore. When I paint, I become one with the painting—it’s not separate from me but an extension of my body and being.
I stay connected through breath, movement, and presence, allowing the work to unfold as a lived experience rather than something outside of myself.
Your art invites viewers into an intuitive, almost spiritual listening practice. How do you see art as a threshold between the seen and the unseen?
Every artist paints the way they see, and we all see differently. When I say I paint the unseen, it’s because I experience life as animated—I see the spirit within things, sometimes as personification I communicate with.
For me, art becomes a threshold where that hidden, unseen life reveals itself, tells a story, represents what is already quietly becoming—and invites others to feel it too
Many women today feel disconnected from the sacred in contemporary life. How can we begin to reclaim the sacred in simple, everyday ways?
It’s true—our lives have become so fast-paced, almost robotic, that the sacred often feels separate. But the moment we place the sacred only on an altar outside ourselves, we create that separation.
Sacred doesn’t live outside the body—that’s the old paradigm. It lives within, in every action of presence and awareness.
Reclaiming it begins with the simple choice to connect—and even a simple morning practice to find that presence within is a perfect start.
In your performances and visual work, repetition plays an important role. What is the deeper meaning of repetition for you?
For me, repetition is not about sameness but about deepening. In my work, it shows up as returning to certain symbols—numbers, spirals, binaries—that hold layers of meaning.
In the process, repetition becomes ritual: each gesture, each layer, is a way of listening more closely.
It mirrors life itself, where we meet the same themes again and again, not to repeat them but to transform through them- same but at different layer.
The response to your New York show was described as powerful and resonant. Was there a moment or story from a viewer that stayed with you?
Yes—one woman told me she came into the gallery heavy with grief, and standing before the paintings she felt her body soften, as if she was being held.
That moment stayed with me, because it showed me the work could become more than art—it could be a space of healing and remembrance
Ancestral resonance is central to your exploration. How do you personally connect with your lineage when creating?
When I create, I feel my lineage as a quiet presence—threads of memory, resilience, and longing that live in my body.
I connect through ritual, through listening, and through the materials themselves—earth pigments, wine, coffee—that carry ancestral resonance.
It’s less about looking back with the mind and more about allowing the voices of those before me to move through the work, transforming memory into becoming
As an artist navigating identity and femininity, what has been the most challenging and the most liberating part of this journey?
The most challenging and the most liberating part has been to truly step into my feminine power—which is soft. We live in a world that defines success through performance and achievement, leaving little space for the feminine.
Everything is rushed, and as women we often struggle to connect with the receiving part of ourselves. We were taught to give and to serve, but not always to receive—even from ourselves.
That creates a disconnection from our deepest desires, dreams, and from the vast potential we embody: the part of us that listens, knows, and creates.
Do you feel that the act of creating is itself a ritual of healing for you—and if so, how?
Yes—creating is absolutely a ritual of healing for me. Each painting is a dialogue with what lives beneath the surface, a way of transforming memory, emotion, or silence into form.
The process itself is medicine: it grounds me, softens me, and brings me back into wholeness—and it serves as a mirror into a deeper reality
For women who may not consider themselves “artists,” how can they use creativity as a path to embodiment and self-discovery?
We have creativity embedded into our body as women—it’s innate for us to create. Creativity lives in everyday life, in making simple things and in solving bigger problems.
It doesn’t have to look like painting or performance; it can be cooking, caring, arranging a space, or simply imagining a new possibility.
When approached with presence, these acts become pathways to embodiment and self-discovery—ways of remembering that our lives themselves are works of art if we intend to create them.
Looking ahead, what visions or projects are calling you next, and how do they continue your dialogue with the sacred feminine?
What’s calling me next is a book that weaves dreams, art, and lived experience into a mythic narrative—a continuation of my dialogue with the unseen and the sacred feminine.
At the same time, I’m beginning a new body of work that deepens these themes, exploring presence, transformation, and the feminine as an energy of becoming.
Both feel like extensions of the same journey: creating spaces—on the page and on the canvas—where the sacred can be remembered, experienced and lived.
Kasia Muzyka is a Polish-American artist based in Minneapolis, MN. Her work weaves mysticism, human nature, and transcendental philosophy with inquiries into quantum physics—offering layered visual expressions that explore the nature of existence, perception, and the unseen.
Often centering feminine presence as a portal, she invites viewers into intimate encounters with their inner worlds.
Muzyka has exhibited nationally and internationally with solo shows including Inner Explorations at Gal Art in Minneapolis, MN and the upcoming The Sacred Condition of Being in Manhattan, New York.
Her work has appeared with Tyrrell Art Gallery, Dove Gallery, and in global charity auctions organized by Phoenix Opera and the Global Disaster Relief Team, amongst others.
Her art and voice have been featured in Vanity Fair, Arts to Hearts, Voyage Minnesota, New Visionary Magazine, and podcasts, including New Visionary and Born to Create.
She has also taken part in artist talks series hosted by Victoria J. Fry, founder of Visionary Art Collective and Warnes Contemporary. Also, her work was shown at Red Dot Miami, a satellite fair during Art Basel.
Beyond painting, Muzyka explores cross-disciplinary collaborations in fashion and music—such as cover designs for MiLarKey and the founding of Call2Love, a wearable art brand.
She is currently deepening her classical foundation at The Atelier Studio Program of Fine Art in Minneapolis. Her work resides in private collections across the United States, Canada, and Europe.
