For Kasia Muzyka, painting is not an act of invention—it is an act of
uncovering. Her Chelsea exhibition, The Sacred Condition of Being,
which opened in June, invites viewers into a realm where memory,
material, and mystery converge. Each work feels alive, a portal rather
than a static object—summoning what already exists beneath the surface
of perception.

Muzyka’s process is elemental. She works with natural pigments, wine,
coffee, and vibrational water—materials that carry their own
histories. “Creating assumes I am the origin,” she says. “Uncovering
acknowledges that something already exists—waiting to be seen.” In her
studio, the canvas becomes less a blank space to fill than a terrain
to explore. Pigment stains and watermarks are not accidents but
invitations, revealing images that appear as if summoned from some
older language.

The exhibition’s title, The Sacred Condition of Being, reflects
Muzyka’s belief that existence itself is already holy. “We search for
meaning ‘out there,’” she says, “but the condition of being—fragile,
fleeting, whole, wounded—is not something to fix, but something to
revere. Sacredness isn’t found in perfection; it lives in the cracks,
the cycles, the becoming.”
Each painting in the series serves as an altar to that truth. Washes
of muted earth tones meet gestural marks and quiet voids, drawing the
viewer into an almost meditative encounter. The works do not demand
explanation—they invite presence. “I’ve let go of the need to control
the outcome,” Muzyka explains. “The work now tells me what it needs,
not the other way around.”

The evolution of her practice has been both technical and spiritual.
While her earlier pieces leaned more heavily on formal composition,
her recent work has embraced openness, chance, and dialogue with the
materials. Coffee seeps into pigment, water reshapes edges, and stains
form like traces of memory. “Less perfection, more presence,” she
says, describing this shift. “More mystery, less explanation.”
Muzyka’s work whispers rather than shouts, yet it carries a profound
resonance. If it had one message for the world? “You were never
separate. Not from the earth, the unseen, or yourself. You are part of
a vast memory, and your presence—messy, sacred, unfinished—is enough.”

In The Sacred Condition of Being, viewers are not simply looking at
art—they are entering a space of recognition. Muzyka’s paintings ask
for stillness, for breath, for a willingness to meet the sacred not as
an external ideal, but as something already present in the act of
being alive. The experience is quiet yet transformative, leaving an
imprint that lingers long after the gallery walls are behind you.























