Buddhist gods and lighthouses around the world — what do they have in common?
Mariia Kamenska is a Ukrainian who has been living in Poland for ten years. She is a creative individual who draws, writes, photographs and creates thread paintings. Mariia also loves to travel, and before the war, she maintained a blog about the countries she visited. Her fascination with Buddhist gods developed after a trip to Tibet and Nepal, which she often reflects in her art.
In addition, Mariia is a fan of lighthouses and has a favourite one in Gdynia, located on the coast of the Baltic Sea. She often visits this lighthouse to seek guidance, celebrate her joys, or simply to find peace. Mariia has expressed her love for lighthouses through thread paintings featuring various shapes, colours, and themes.
“Lighthouse” interviewed Mariia about her artwork, the reasons for her fascination with Buddhist gods, and the therapeutic benefits she derives from lighthouses.
Gdynia — Gdańsk’s sister city
Mariia has been living in Gdynia since 2015. She moved there with her husband, who received a job offer that required relocation. “We used to live in Kyiv, but my husband’s contract was ending. I registered him on LinkedIn, and he got two job offers: one in Krakow and another in Gdynia. I remember 2015; the phone connection was poor because we were on holiday in Fuerteventura. The employers could barely reach us to inform us that my husband had successfully passed all the stages and was being hired, meaning we would be moving to Gdynia. At the time, I didn’t know about such a city, and when I heard him mention ‘Gdynia,’ I wondered what he meant. Perhaps it was a sister city of Gdansk? Later, I found out that it kind of is.”
For the first two weeks, Mariia recalls staying in a hotel until they found a permanent place to live. She began jogging along the coast every morning to familiarise herself with the city, and that’s when she fell in love with the lighthouse.
“Gdynia is a port city on the Baltic Sea. It is quite young, celebrating its 100th anniversary in 2026. A distinctive feature of Gdynia is that it lacks an ‘old town’ like its neighbours Gdansk or Sopot. The architecture showcases the ‘Gdynia way of Modernism,’ which emerged in the 1920s and 1930s. Gdynia is perhaps the only city in Poland where this trend is visible in almost every building, hence the term ‘the Gdynia way of Modernism.’ We were fortunate to find an apartment very close to the sea, just a 10-minute walk away. I used to watch the sunrises on the coast of the Baltic Sea almost every day. It was here that I first saw the lighthouse, which I would later visit for guidance, support, and just to relax my mind.”
The first exhibition of photos
Mariia used these two weeks to explore the city. Initially, she felt that Gdynia had not accepted her, but everything changed after her first photography exhibition.
“Since we had very little time to prepare for the relocation, I didn’t have a chance to adjust to the idea of moving. I read that Gdynia is a cold city; even in summer, the temperature can be as low as 9 degrees Celsius. As someone who loves warm weather, I thought, ‘Where are we going anyway?’ (laughs) That’s why I was resistant at first. My husband knew why he was going; he had a job and colleagues, while I was grappling with the challenge of realising my talents and finding ‘my’ people. At that time, it felt to me as though the city was pushing me away. Now I understand that the issue was more about my internal struggle. No matter where I had moved at that point in my life, I likely would have felt the same way. However, when my first photo exhibition finally took place, I began to feel more at ease.”
Mariia recalls that a friend she met during her Polish language course was helpful in organising the exhibition. “Gdynia is a small city, and there aren’t many exhibition spaces available. They usually have a waiting list that extends for several years. During the COVID-19 pandemic, many artists had been waiting for their exhibitions, so the backlog was significant. My friend knew how important this opportunity was for me, so she reached out to various organisations, exhibition halls, and art centers for help. Fortunately, we caught a break and received a letter informing us that one of the exhibitions had been cancelled, and there were now available dates. We took full advantage of the opportunity. The series of travel photographs was titled ‘Where Does the Road Lead?’ It was 2018, and this was the first time I had presented anything in Polish. I even gave my presentation in Polish, which was a huge deal for me since I had been quite shy about my pronunciation.”
Fascination with Buddhist gods
The next exhibition took place at the Baltic Culture Centre. This time, in addition to photographs, there were Buddhist deities painted in watercolors. “I was very nervous before the exhibition because I didn’t know how people accustomed to living in conservative Catholic Poland, where the depiction of deities is usually canonical, would react. I was unsure about how I would interact with other artists as well,” Mariia shared.
Mariia first became interested in Buddhist philosophy during a trip to Tibet and Nepal, where she met locals who shared stories about the various gods they revered or felt a personal connection to. However, it was an encounter with a man who spoke passionately about the deities, their characteristics, Buddhist philosophy, and the Buddha himself that truly inspired her. “He was a Buddhist tour guide, and since his relative lived in a monastery, he certainly had a wealth of information. But the way he talked made me want to learn even more. I was still translating from English for my sister, mother, and other group members, and sometimes, he would share so much that I couldn’t keep up with the translation. In the evenings, I and other group members, including my sister and mom, would sit down, and I would relay the information, soaking in everything the guide said before. I remember how beautifully he told the story of Tara’s birth. He mentioned that the Buddha was deeply saddened by his inability to save everyone and cried so much that he eventually fell asleep. While he slept, a tear fell onto a lotus flower. When he awoke, he saw the goddess Tara, born from his tears, who promised to help him. How could I not be fascinated?”
Later, Mariia went to meet the Dalai Lama in Riga. The event was located in an exhibition centre with an open-air market, where she purchased a set of thangka postcards — Tibetan Buddhist paintings typically depicting deities, scenes, or mandalas on cotton or silk canvas. Since then, she has painted a variety of Buddhist gods. “I looked at those postcards and found the images so beautiful that I couldn’t help but fall in love with them. I felt a strong desire to recreate the images of the gods in my drawings. I started with the goddess Tara, using various colors: blue, black, green, and yellow. Then I painted the Buddha in different depictions – once in a winter sweater and mittens. Almost every year, on the significant night of Shiva (Maha Shivaratri), I play a mantra and draw him in various poses and colors.”
Eventually, Mariia decided that she wanted her depictions of the gods to be canonical. “For example, when it comes to the white Tara, it’s vital to know the position of her hands and how many eyes she has on her palms, legs, and feet. Since her power is to heal, she must be able to see those she is helping. The green Tara is a wish-fulfilling goddess, always with one foot on a lotus so she can quickly rise to fulfill dreams. All these details are profound, and I loved learning about them to draw my gods in a ‘proper,’ canonical way.”
After the full-scale invasion began, Mariia started to “Ukrainize” Buddhist gods. “I have a painting of the goddess Tara in an embroidered shirt and Lakshmi standing on a swan while wearing a beautiful traditional Ukrainian old blue shirt. I enjoyed combining the seemingly incompatible; I liked this unusual eclecticism.”
Mariia explains that her studies of Buddhist deities not only bring her joy but also assist her in everyday life. “Once, I faced an unresolved conflict with my friends, and psychotherapy didn’t help; I couldn’t find a way to communicate. Then I thought, why not draw the goddess Durga? The goddess Durga is known for resolving conflicts and battling demons, and in that moment, my inner demons surfaced. I felt connected to her power of conflict resolution. I’ve come to appreciate that while I’m painting, I can sense a connection with the strengths that these Buddhist gods embody. The act of painting allows me to immerse myself in this symbolism, diving deep and connecting with various aspects of the gods.”
Exhibition to help Ukraine
The last exhibition was for charity and took place at the Gdyńskie Centrum Filmowe, a cinema center that typically shows art house films but also features a gallery. “When the full-scale war started, I thought long and hard about what I could do on my own to support my country. I decided to create an exhibition to sell photos and paintings, with the proceeds going to help Ukraine. I reached out to everyone I could. I think I’d never been so brave in my life. I told myself, ‘The worst that can happen is rejection, but even that is not the end. ‘Fortunately, the film center had just cancelled another exhibition and they gave me a week to organise mine. The exhibition was titled ‘The World and the Gods for Ukraine. ‘The exhibition managed to raise some money, which I immediately sent to the Come Back Alive Foundation.
Another one of Mariia’s exhibitions was called ‘The Gifted World.’ This title reflects the idea that this world was given to us, and we are merely guests in it. I wanted to preserve the image of the world as I see it for future generations.”
The very first lighthouse
In May 2022, she accepted a position at the Gdynia City Museum after they established a creative space for Ukrainians. “Adults and children visited us from neighbouring towns, and we were even featured on television. We created such a friendly, homely atmosphere that people wanted to come,” she said.
She created her first lighthouse during one of the workshops she held at the museum. “We were modeling clay, painting with watercolors, and embroidering – it felt like we had tried all media. I was thinking about how to come up with something interesting for everyone. Then I noticed some thread and thought, ‘What if I tried to create a picture using threads?’ I began searching online and saw an image of the sea with a boat, which inspired me to ‘paint’ a lighthouse with threads. I’m a fan of lighthouses. Not everyone was enthusiastic about this idea initially, as the technique is quite complicated and not suited for beginners. Nevertheless, we decided to go for it. Some participants made trees, others made flowers, and one even attempted to recreate a Van Gogh painting.” That was the moment when Maria crafted her first lighthouse made of thread.
Creating paintings with threads involves several stages: first, a drawing is made on paper, which is then covered with glue. Next, threads are laid horizontally on the adhesive layer, gradually reproducing the image on the paper. This technique is known as “threadography.”
Lighthouses as therapy
A year after Mariia created her first lighthouse, a Polish babysitter visiting with a Ukrainian boy saw the painting and asked if she could buy it. Mariia realized at that moment that she didn’t want to sell the painting. Instead, she wanted to create a whole collection of lighthouses. This marked the beginning of her journey to create lighthouses of various shapes, colors, and meanings.
When Mariia shared her experience on Facebook, a friend named Olha posed an interesting question: how would Mariia envision Olha as a lighthouse? Inspired by this prompt, Mariia decided to take on the challenge. After posting her interpretation on social media, she found that others were intrigued and began asking her to “paint” their lighthouses, too. This led Mariia to create many different lighthouse paintings. She would look at a person’s photo and think about how she would visualize their lighthouse – thinking of Katia’s or Tanya’s lighthouse, for instance.
Eventually, Mariia received her first private commission. A woman wanted not just any picture; she wished to purchase a lighthouse painting as a metaphorical symbol of life to celebrate her 40th birthday. Mariia felt this was an important mission.
Soon, many similar orders came in, as people wanted lighthouse paintings for their birthdays. Consequently, Mariia’s collection has fewer lighthouses than the number she has created, as many of them “live” with the individuals who commissioned them.
To determine the right lighthouse for a person, Mariia first asks whether specific colors or times of day are significant to them. For example, one person requested a lighthouse at sunrise to symbolise new beginnings. Another woman shared a self-portrait she had painted, expressing her desire for her lighthouse to reflect the same colors. Interestingly, Mariia discovered an actual lighthouse in America that matched the burgundy tones of a beautiful woman’s painting, in which she was depicted holding a bird.
Another woman expressed that the current phase of her life was about tenderness, prompting her to ask for pink and purple hues in her lighthouse. Some individuals simply said, “I trust you completely; do as you see fit.”
When Mariia finishes a painting and shares a photo with the client or posts it on social media, the responses are overwhelmingly positive. People often say, “This lighthouse is mine; I really feel that way.” On one occasion, after receiving a photo of her painting, a woman initially responded that she needed some time to think. Later, she wrote back, saying that the lighthouse painting stirred a whirlwind of emotions within her and revealed many unknown aspects of herself. This experience was a revelation for Mariia, illustrating that her paintings can serve as a form of therapy.
Travelling and writing
Mariia has a passion for traveling and began a blog in 2016, where she shared her experiences about her trips, places of strength, and extraordinary locations. However, since the full-scale invasion, she has paused her blogging, stating that it doesn’t feel relevant at the moment. She fondly recalls a pivotal trip to Italy that sparked her love for travel: “When I was 10 years old, I had an absolutely fantastic experience. It was the first time I lived with an Italian family for a month as part of a program for Ukrainian children. I travelled to Italy for two consecutive years under this program. For me, this experience was like going into space – an absolutely unforgettable time. It was then that I realised I wanted to see the world.”
Of all the places she has visited, Tibet captivated her the most: “There is nowhere like Tibet. First of all, it’s a high mountainous region, and when I was climbing to the base camp, I caught a glimpse of Mount Everest. During the trip, I experienced what ‘altitude sickness’ is, enjoyed the breathtaking scenery, and interacted with the locals. What fascinates me the most is the surrounding beauty. For instance, Lake Namtso is incredibly beautiful, as is the capital of Tibet, Lhasa. I also had the opportunity to go on a kora (pilgrimage) around the mystical Mount Kailash, where, according to belief, the gods of four religions reside: Hinduism, Buddhism, Jainism, and Tibetan Bon. It was an incredibly interesting experience – 42 kilometers of walking, during which I felt a wide range of emotions.”
In addition to her love for traveling, Mariia is also a writer and has published seven collections of short stories. “I write about love, although many readers say that my stories actually explore themes of loneliness. My characters are searching for happiness, intimacy, and self-discovery. In my works, I address the issue of honesty with oneself and with others.”
Mariia explains that she began writing by chance while participating in a series of daily tasks: “It started off as a form of self-reflection, like writing about what kind of melody or colour I embody. One day, we were given a few phrases to choose from to kickstart a story. And then, a miracle happened – I began to write. Although I had experience writing articles, it was very different from writing fiction. Writing ‘10 best beaches in Mallorca’ is one thing, but crafting a story where I had no idea what the next word would be, how it would end, or what the characters would discuss, was quite another. I never expected that a single phrase could lead to a complete story. Characters began to appear, and they turned out to live in Paris, people I didn’t know but felt compelled to write about. That’s when I realised I wanted to write fictional stories about people, love, and breakups.”
The next day, she finished her story about the Parisians, and a few months later, another text emerged. During a subsequent marathon, she set herself the goal of writing 100 texts in 100 days. “At the marathon, I made a personal dream called ‘New Me.’ I didn’t know what kind of ‘me’ I wanted to become, but I wanted to challenge myself. While some people aimed to do yoga every day or drink two litres of water daily, I wanted to write. I thought it would be a form of self-reflection. That’s how my first text came about. It was a story about a red thread. At that time, I had undergone gallbladder surgery, and I told the staff how important a red thread I wore on my arm was to me, because I received it at the Dalai Lama’s meeting in Riga. They were so considerate that they cut the thread and placed it under my pillow instead of throwing it away.
The subsequent texts were fictional, revolving around themes of apple trees, love, kindness, tenderness, and gentleness. I didn’t plan the topics; I just knew that as soon as I sat down at my laptop, a new story would come to life. I published them on my Facebook, and that’s how I gained my first readers. They were very supportive and encouraged me to compile all the texts into one collection called “Cherry Pie.”
This was my first collection, followed by two more books. “On one hand, I told myself, ‘Why do you need this? You’ve had enough fun; you’ve published a collection of short stories, stop there.’ But on the other hand, I knew I wanted to keep writing.”
In 2021, Mariia submitted the manuscript of “Close Strangers” to a publishing house and received a positive response the very same day. Later, in collaboration with the same publishing house, she published the collection “Flowers, Maps, and Hypnosis” and the “Christmas Angels” project.
Author: Rostyslava Martyniuk
Ukrainian language editor: Anastasia Zanuzdanova
English language editor: Helen Lewis
Photo credit: Mariia Kamenska
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