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Titile image: Martyna Maz,  Portrait of a Comedian

Martyna Maz (martynamaz.art), the artist behind Mazyn Life, calls herself “an oracle and a mirror.” Through intuitive portrait sessions she guides creatives, leaders, and visionaries into the essence of who they are becoming. Her work is less about performance than presence– not capturing a face, but reflecting identity, power, and possibility. Each portrait becomes both proof and prophecy: a visual anchor for transformation and a catalyst for stepping into one’s next chapter. 

You say you “translate the unseen into images that remember who you are.” How do you access that unseen essence, and how do your clients typically respond when they see themselves through this lens? 

I believe all of us arrive into an environment already painted, or tainted, with discomfort, and we each learn how to express it. For me, photography became a natural outlet. That inner world, translated into images, revealed a sensitivity I later recognised as a gift – an ability to attune to emotion, imagine the story underneath, and translate it. Eventually, I saw it wasn’t the images giving me insight, but that photography gave me permission to speak what I already knew. The unseen isn’t mystical, but the felt truth beneath our learned roles. I’ve always been attuned to that layer. I read people easily, feel into their desires and capacities, even when they can’t yet name them. Clients respond differently depending on how seen they feel in daily life. Those who’ve felt invisible are often surprised – even shy – saying they’ve never shown up in a photograph like that before. And they return. Those who already own their desires tend to feel instant recognition, a kind of homecoming. For them, it becomes a mirror that validates their identity and greatness. 

What kinds of life transitions or inner thresholds tend to bring people to you? 

People are drawn to portraiture, or avoid it, based on how permitted they feel to be seen. Some love being photographed, appearing to hold themselves in high regard. Others have learned to perform loudly in order to feel safe. But when I stay in my softness, they begin to surrender, and something more vulnerable reveals itself. We capture that, and it’s beautiful. Then there are those who come after a lifetime of serving something greater than themselves – a career, a family, a purpose. When that role fades, a quiet hunger to rediscover who they are begins to rise. It’s like deciding to jump into water while afraid:knowing they’ll emerge changed, radiant, stronger. The reasons vary, but the desire remains: to mark a threshold. To see oneself more fully. 

Your poetic response to art as healing – that creation is proof of wholeness, not a tool for fixing – is powerful. How does that shape the way you hold space for others? 

I once photographed a comedian who spent the first half of the session cracking jokes. The images reflected the act, not the essence. So I went within, focused on my body, and simply saw them. A silence came… and there they were. When I shared the images, they chose those moments – the ones where they were truly seen and felt. I used to be very quiet:  even when I saw something in someone, I wouldn’t dare speak it. Now that I hold a deeper sense of my own wholeness, I can guide others more clearly. That brings permission, openness, and acceptance. I lead more steadily now, emphasising truth, not performance. 

You say “Mazyn is the myth.” What does that myth represent to you, and how do you see your work evolving? 

Mazyn is a name I gave myself after a lifetime of hiding. More than a name, it’s a feeling – a version of me I meet more each day. Viola Davis once said our purpose isn’t what we do, but what happens to others when we do it. That gave me permission to stop fixing and start revealing. 

So, who is Mazyn? 

She’s bold — not because she’s fearless, but because she’s no longer afraid of her own reactions to herself.
She’s authentic because she exists, even when messy.
She’s inspired because she knows something wiser moves through her.
She leads by being — and reminds others they can too. 

My only intention is to keep moving from that place:  to let the myth live in me, wherever I might be. 

You describe the Mazyn Experience as “a remembering” rather than a photoshoot. Can you walk us through what actually happens during one of your intuitive portrait sessions? 

Sessions vary. Before we meet, I ask about intentions and listen closely to what sits between the lines. Sometimes we meet in a studio, other times outdoors or at home. I offer wardrobe guidance – not to match the setting, but to elevate how they see themselves. Makeup and styling can be arranged depending on the vision. We usually spend about half a day together. I guide gently, using questions or prompts to stir imagination, soften tension, or evoke the energy beneath the surface. It’s not about poses. It’s about essence. A glance, a smile, a shift in the eyes – something unexpected emerges. Once, while photographing strangers meditating, almost all dropped into deep presence within minutes. One said my presence made them feel extra safe. That moment showed me something I now trust: the way I hold space helps people feel at home, embraced, and seen. I don’t tell them how to be. I witness them. And sometimes, the atmosphere shifts — the room softens, something opens. That’s when I know we’ve entered a part of them that wanted to be remembered. Sessions often end with both of us trusting we’ve captured what was ready to be seen. My preferred process is analog. I develop film in my own darkroom, creating one-of-a-kind prints by hand. I curate every image, deliver a digital selection, and offer a physical print with a handwritten note describing the aura I felt. It becomes more than a portrait — a keepsake of who they embraced themselves being.