Sleeping mountain

Names don’t matter that much, but you can call me Dujna ❇

Honestly, I’ve never had Tumblr before, so this is a new experience for me. I’m not entirely sure what brought me here or what it will bring—but I’m hoping for the best :).

In a world that clings to material things and prioritizes achievement over self‑knowledge, many of us can feel lost, small, and a little “thin, sort of stretched, like butter scraped over too much bread.” I feel that way sometimes too—perhaps more often than I’d like. Today is one such day, and in a way, it’s also the reason why I’m here. That’s my answer to what brought me to Tumblr.

For a long time now, I’ve been dreaming of stories whispered to me by my grandmother’s pillow when I slept at her place as a child—and of myths that came later, growing darker over time, shaped by everything my mind has read from my drawings and sketches throughout the years.

I’ve always drawn—more spontaneously than intentionally. I’m usually curious to see what my hands will show me this time, what they will tell through lines. That’s how I come to know the characters who were already present in the stories—I just hadn’t seen them yet. Without my hands, I wouldn’t know any of them, and for that, I’m deeply grateful.

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In fact, I’m grateful for everything life has given me—joy and sorrow alike. Each has carried a gift, shifted my perspective, and continues to shape my values.

I don’t know how brave I’ll be when it comes to sharing what lives in my mind here, but I’d like to find a place where I feel seen. Not for who I am, but for what I create, what I need to say, and how I say it. Sharing is something I miss deeply. I’ve grown out of the habit of writing with someone—about something, or even about nothing at all, just letting words flow as they want to. I sometimes forget what it feels like to have a close friend.

I’m turning 30 this year, and even though I have an amazing mom, a loving partner, and his family is wonderful, there are times when I feel the absence of someone quite strongly. Almost all the friends and classmates I know have children, are on maternity leave, or have stable jobs. I can’t have children—but it’s not something I regret; it just leaves you feeling a bit out of place, if you know what I mean :). I don’t have a steady job either. I’m still trying to find a way to make a living from what I do—macramé jewelry—but it’s not easy. I’m not much of a marketing person.

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✦ Šém of the Catchers’ tribe. Her task is to comfort nightmares — for every nightmare was once a dream. A dream perhaps too quiet, too fleeting, forgotten by the one who dreamed it.

Yet every dream longs to be received, to anchor itself in memory like a feather caught in a spider’s web, never to vanish. The grief of being forgotten turned dreams into nightmares — returning again and again, ever more insistent, hoping that fear might spare them from oblivion.

✦ Shém of the Lapači tribe, and one of the nightmares she has captured. ✦

❇ DRUIDKA ❇

She’s not very big, but every detail carries a story. From the sculpted head and hands, to painted features, grooves sanded for hair, and threads carefully woven into place; from driftwood shaped into her body, to eyelashes made of a feather, macramé jewelry, and tiny lights glowing from within—this druidess figurine is entirely handmade.

She is my centering element, grounding amulet.