Written by Dominyka Mieželytė.

Located around 50 km west from Kaunas lies the town of Griškabūdis, where artist Eglė Tamulytė, also known as Aglaja Ray, resides and creates.

The artist has made many paintings, graphic artworks, and video art performances that all carry profound messages. Furthermore, Eglė has presented over 60 personal and group exhibitions and performances in Lithuania and all over the world.

Having searched the highs and lows of London, Los Angeles, Mexico, Berlin, and New York, Eglė suddenly felt her inner voice calling her home to Griškabūdis, to create a space where artistic souls could come together and share their artistry. For two years now, this space has been known as Gyvenimo Mokykla (En: The School of Life).

Tell me about the beginning of Gyvenimo mokykla.

I got introduced to working with non-profit organisations when I was 11 years old. Together with local art teacher Rima Amonienė and some enthusiastic kids, we created a non-profit organisation. Its main aim was to gather local children to create and celebrate art-related activities rather than let kids wander the streets aimlessly, potentially catching destructive habits such as drinking. We would come up with different art projects and aspire to renew the old houses using various means of art. For example, one project was called Windows and Stones in Colours. The meaning behind the title was that instead of breaking, we should focus on the making. We wanted to breathe life into something that seemed to be abandoned, making the place more beautiful and enjoyable for everyone around. So, all these seeds of community art projects were already planted in my heart from an early age.

Later in life, as I continued to pursue my artistic career, I longed for these types of art projects that involved more people. I am both an introvert and an extrovert; I need my quiet time to create, but I also see art as a great tool to bring people together. That’s why even when studying at Vilnius Art Academy or while living abroad, I would organise group exhibitions and invite young, less privileged, or underground artists to participate.

As I lived in Berlin in 2019, I still felt the desire to do something more meaningful in my life. Dark art and the underground art scene were very familiar to me, but I felt like this chapter was coming to an end. I dreamed of creating a space where I could share my own life experiences and enable people to come together and engage in some meaningful creative activities. Never would I have thought that the dream was going to come true in my hometown. I had lived almost everywhere in the world, and I enjoyed being abroad, so I thought it would be in some exotic spot.

Believe it or not, but my inner voice literally told me to GO HOME. It was 2019, and I was still living in Berlin. The thought of coming back to my hometown frightened me; I had no clue what was waiting for me back in Lithuania. But, as it tends to happen, dreams sometimes come true in the most unexpected ways.

When I came back in the summer of 2019, I started developing a plan to establish a non-profit organisation. Soon after, I noticed this old abandoned building in the middle of Griškabūdis, and I remember asking my mom who owned it. She told me it belonged to a local businessman and, fortunately, she had his phone number. So I contacted him and introduced him to my idea: to create an art studio and a space for youth and the local community to get together. I prepared a business plan, attended various meetings with his company, and I was able to convince them to give me the building to use for non-profit purposes.

We signed a contract stating that I could use this building for ten years for the artists' means and the benefit of the local community. So the building was lent to me rent-free with a few commitments — to look after it and keep it in good condition.

As fabulous as it all looked in my head, the beginning was very challenging. During the first year, there was a lot of work. Since it hadn't been used for a long time, there was no water, electricity, heating, or bathroom to use. I knew it wasn't a one-woman job; therefore, I reached out to the community for help. Luckily, I got all the support needed and even more. I believe God truly helped me, as he intended me to start this project. Otherwise, it would be impossible to explain how all the financial donations and materials needed for repairing came at the right time. People contributed with their money, work, and time — all the needs were slowly met.

The beginning was extremely challenging. It quite literally has been a school of life as I have learned so much during the process. I'd never have known how much work has to be put in so that one can use a bathroom or electricity or how much paperwork has to be done to use the basic facilities of a building. I grew tremendously through these years and learned so many practical things; I believe I'd be able to build a house now. All this work was also a very humbling experience, teaching me to be grateful for every little step that was made forward. Also, we shared so many heart-touching moments with people who came to help. It is the most meaningful project I've done in my life yet; that's how it feels.

You mentioned that it would've been impossible without the help of the local community. How did you inspire them to come and contribute?

I am an active and outspoken artist, so everyone knew when I came back to Lithuania, mainly because I was interviewed by various Lithuanian media outlets. Although that alone didn't change anything; I had lived abroad for a long time and hadn't been spending too much time in Griškabūdis since I was 14 years old. I needed to get the community's trust, so I started posting lots of photos and videos on my social media. I explained my ideas and plans about this project, and invited viewers to follow the whole journey, from entering the building to digging the ground to installing the sewage system. I looked at everything as an adventure and had so much fun making those videos. I was documenting all the main events trying to make it amusing to watch.

First, my mother came to help me, then my brother, his friends, and later my classmates. We had lots of fun working together; we shared food and got to know each other, and there was often music playing and a good atmosphere altogether. Gyvenimo mokykla slowly became the hot spot for the youth of Griškabūdis; a place where people would always be welcome to come in and hang out. We didn't have such a place or tradition before in our little town.

Altogether, how long did it take to feel more comfortable in the building and have the basic facilities?

We started repairing things amid the covid pandemic during the first lockdown. All happened step by step, according to how much we could accommodate at the time. I could not have done it without the help of the community. In the beginning, I was borrowing electricity from the neighbour, who just happened to be a Catholic priest.

Even though it didn’t have basic facilities, I utilised the building straight away and planned an exhibition for June 16, 2020. I was studying Graphics at the Vilnius Art Academy, and it was my final master’s degree exhibition that I wanted to present at Gyvenimo mokykla. It was called Pabaigos laikai / The end of times. It marked my transformation, and it was the last exhibition I did using the pseudonym Shaltmira. I chose two walls in the building, and with the help of my brother and his classmates, and other good-willed people, we fixed them quickly so that I could make this exhibition happen.

In addition, I joined the Griškabūdis community centre and became a member of the Griškabūdis council. I soon befriended the chairwoman Agnė Paškauskienė, who is also my age. We were at the same school but from parallel classes. We started collaborating and looked at what could be changed for the better in our community and our little town.

First of all, I set my heart on repainting the building where Gyvenimo mokykla started functioning, from the outside, as it was so grey and Soviet-like. It was a grey brick building with iron-barred windows because it used to be a shop. Together with the chairman of the community centre, we wrote a community project proposal for the council — street art festival “The Matches” (“Degtukai”) — a week-long project involving many activities for local youth, and it got accepted and funded. Along with my ideas, we had two other talented professionals to help with the designs for the facade. One of them was a well-known graffiti artist Kipras.

This summer, everything changed completely. It now looks entirely different, much brighter and all renewed. Hundreds of people joined to help to make it happen. We all have been washing, repainting, and drawing on this building together. At the moment, it functions as a place where I create, organise art and educational events, do my artist research, and exhibit mine, guest artists’ and children’s drawings. I also conduct free art classes for kids whenever I have time and energy. I’m constantly looking for solutions, how to make this building function better. Up until now, Gyvenimo mokykla has accommodated several events, creative shows, and lectures.

What challenges did you encounter on this journey?

Last winter was rough. We had record amounts of snow fallen and temperatures down to -25 degrees Celsius. I tried to ‘keep the fire burning’ and keep Gyvenimo mokykla running and alive, but I’d come to a dead-end: it was freezing inside, the pipes were frozen, and electricity kept going out. On top of that, it was the second lockdown, so children were afraid to come due to the pandemic.

I sat alone in the studio thinking: I don’t understand it, shouldn’t following a meaningful path be a little easier? I was really depressed. One pastor friend of mine came together with family, brought food, and kept me company. We sat by the candles, surrounded by concrete walls, breathing the cold winter air and talking. My pastor friend had been responsible for a rehab centre but had to temporarily shut it down due to some personal reasons. That made me think: if they paused it, maybe I can as well? I need some rest.

So I left for Vilnius and found a perfect room to rent. My friends and church community were very supportive and helped me to bounce back after the depression. I had no clue what to do with the studio; I was even considering permanently closing it. However, I thought it would be such a shame since we’d had a fantastic spring, summer, and autumn of events and activities. Eventually, it became clear that Gyvenimo mokykla could function in this building just as something more seasonal, at least for the moment. So, I will try to use winter time more wisely, networking and organising activities for the warm period of the year.

On the bright side, I have had great joys; I’d even say miracles! One time, soon after I’d gotten an air conditioning system, thinking it was going to solve all my heating issues, I received an unexpectedly high bill of 400 euros. I didn’t anticipate the monthly bill to be that high and didn’t have the means to pay it that month. Suddenly, entirely out of the blue, one company contacted me asking if I knew anyone in need of financial support. I couldn’t believe my ears! So, they ended up covering the whole amount of the bills. And I didn’t find myself in this type of situation only once — there were more times like this when I was in need, and someone reached out to me. All in all, I was never in debt; however, it is much easier during the warm season. I had no idea how difficult it is to heat old buildings.

Is living a meaningful life much more important than any financial stability you could get?

Indeed, I needed to find and do exactly what I found meaningful. Otherwise, it's somehow a waste of breath, life, and time, the way I see it. I believe it's dull to only think about yourself on this earth. Like when I still lived in Berlin, I couldn't get rid of the feeling of wanting to do something with other people, not only spending time alone in the studio. Now I have it more balanced; I have time alone creating, writing projects, drawing, and creating video performances. And there are also times when I communicate with people, do networking, and conduct art classes for children. Doing something that doesn't necessarily bring me money directly, but the purpose — that's when I feel fulfilled. For this reason, I don't charge kids for the art classes as some of them wouldn't be able to afford it. Instead, I find more joy in convincing a business company to donate, and then we can draw for free (laughs).