My name is Athena, I’m 28, from the small Polish town of Zielona Góra in the Lubusz Voivodeship. I work as a designer in an IT company, crafting interfaces for mobile apps. I love the quiet of mornings when the town still sleeps and the scent of freshly brewed coffee. From early years, I’ve adored drawing—it’s my way of speaking without words. I live alone with a cat named Batono, who believes he owns the place

My dream is to open a small gallery in an old brick house on the outskirts of Zielona Góra. Not for fame, but so people can come, sit on wooden benches, and simply look. I want my photos and drawings off screens and on walls, where fingers can touch the paper’s texture, inhale the paint’s scent. I dream that someone, staring at a shot of a lone misty trail, suddenly realizes: “I can walk that too.

The meaning of life? For me, it’s in motion. Not reaching the summit, but the climb. In every step through wet grass, every dawn-caught frame. In leaving a mark—not in history, but in someone’s heart. Meaning is when your tiny spark ignites another’s. And at day’s end, watching Batono doze, I think: maybe it’s simpler—meaning is just being. Here. Now. Carrying light while it lasts.

My hobbies are hiking the Bieszczady Mountains and photography. Every weekend I grab my backpack and head to Polonina Wetlińska: the air there feels like my lungs are breathing for the first time. I don’t shoot landscapes but traces—boot prints in snow, cloud shadows on slopes, the faces of old villagers. The camera slows time, catching moments that would otherwise vanish.

Relationships with people are the art of being close without losing yourself. I’ve learned to listen to the silence between words—truth often hides there. Friendship isn’t about meeting often but trusting deeply. With a loved one, we don’t cling 24/7; we give each other room to breathe. The key is fearless vulnerability: saying “I’m scared” or “I’m tired” without masks. People come and go, but those who stay are the ones you can sit in silence with, feeling no emptiness.