Lina Kusaite

I grew up in Kaunas, Lithuania, at a time when it was still part of the Soviet Union. I was born into a family of architects, painters, jewelers, and musicians—creativity was woven into everyday life. Our home was surrounded by forests and open fields, with a large garden full of flowers, fruit trees, and vegetables. As a child, I spent most of my time outdoors: climbing trees, observing insects, and helping my mother tend the garden. Nature, with its quiet intelligence, became my first teacher— revealing the diversity of forms, colours, patterns, and the invisible systems through which everything is connected and functions as a whole. From the age of ten, I attended art school, where I studied watercolour, drawing, composition, anatomy, ceramics, and sculpture. I graduated as a ceramist and sculptor, but drawing had already become a constant in my life—I cannot remember a time when I was not drawing. As I grew older, I faced the question of choosing a future path. I loved art, but I also felt deeply drawn to nature. Through my mother’s stories, I learned that many members of my family on my grandfather’s side were foresters. The profession fascinated me, and as a child I often told my mother that I wanted to become one myself. At the time, however, during the Soviet era, forestry was considered a man’s profession, and I was told it would be nearly impossible for a woman.