Daina is an artist at heart, with a rich background in art studies from Lithuania and ongoing creative exploration in the UK. Her love for painting, crafting, and storytelling stems from a deep desire to connect the inner and outer worlds transforming fleeting inspirations from nature, people, and history into tangible forms of self-expression.
For Daina, creativity is life itself a vibrant way to make sense of the outside world while uncovering the melodies within. She draws inspiration from the raw beauty of the North, from shimmering northern lights to the untamed splendour of animals and landscapes.
Beyond art, Daina finds joy in music, long walks with her dog, and listening to people’s stories. She loves delving into history, studying ancestral connections, and uncovering the threads that bind generations together. This passion for storytelling and understanding enriches her art and writing, offering glimpses of a world shaped by both memory and imagination.
Through her work, Daina hopes to inspire others to explore their own creative paths and discover the magic in everyday moments.
The international team of the multilingual magazine «ArtMedia» offers you a magical story from Daina:

In a village hidden between the folds of time, there was a legend that spoke of the magic spun into handmade knitted items. It was said that the craft held the power to bridge the seen and unseen, the natural and the mystical. In this place, surrounded by ancient forests and gentle hills, people believed that wool, given freely by animals, was a gift of warmth and protection from the earth itself. The story begins with a shepherd named Arena, who lived her days among her flock of sheep. She treated her animals with great care, speaking to them softly as she tended to their needs. When she sheared their wool, she always gave thanks, acknowledging the cycle of life that allowed humans and animals to share in each other’s existence. It was on one such day, after spinning the wool into fine yarn, that Arena picked up her needles and began to knit. She had no grand plan in mind, only the rhythm of her hands and the whisper of the wool between her fingers. What emerged was a simple scarf, yet it seemed to hum with a quiet energy. When Arena gifted the scarf to a child in the village, strange and wonderful things began to happen. The child, who had been frail and prone to illness, suddenly grew strong, his laughter filling the winter air. The scarf, the villagers said, must have carried some of Arena’s love, her care imbued into every stitch. Word spread, and soon Alena found herself knitting for others a shawl for a grieving widow, a pair of gloves for a fisherman facing treacherous seas, and a blanket for a newborn cradled against the cold. Each item seemed to hold a kind of magic, not flashy or grand, but steady and comforting, like the warmth of the hearth on a stormy night. It was not long before the villagers began to weave their own stories around Arena’s creations. They said that the wool, being a gift from the sheep, carried the animal’s gentle strength, while Arena’s hands, guided by love, turned that strength into something tangible. They whispered of scarves that could guide lost travelers home and hats that shielded their wearers from the cruelest winds. But Arena herself remained humble, insisting that the magic was not hers to give but came from the connection between nature, craft, and intention. Long before Arena’s time, the villagers believed, knitting had been a sacred act. The first knitters were said to be weavers of destiny, their threads binding together the hopes and dreams of those they loved. One story told of Mira, a young woman who knitted a cloak for her brother as he prepared to leave for war. She poured her every hope for his safety into the fabric, whispering prayers into the soft wool as she worked. When her brother wore the cloak, he seemed untouchable, protected from harm by the strength of Mira’s love. Years later, he returned home unscathed, the cloak worn but still strong, a testament to the power of care and intention. These stories were not merely told for entertainment; they were reminders of the deeper meaning behind handmade things. In a world that often felt cold and indifferent, the act of creating something by hand was a way of saying, “You matter. I see you. I care.” Every stitch was a declaration of love, every garment a shield against the world’s hardships. As time passed, the magic of handmade items became less about the extraordinary and more about the everyday miracles they represented. A pair of mittens kept a child’s hands warm during their first snowfall. A sweater carried the scent of home for someone far away. A blanket wrapped an elder in comfort as they recounted tales of their youth. These were small things, perhaps, but they were enough to remind people of their connections to each other and the earth. Even now, in a world filled with machines and haste, the magic of handmade knitted items endures. When you wear something made by hand, you carry with you the story of the person who made it their time, their care, and their hopes stitched into the fabric. You carry the essence of the animal that gave its wool, the rhythm of the seasons, and the whispers of those who came before. And perhaps, as the old stories suggest, you carry a little bit of magic too.