From Evening Gowns to Woolen Socks: Why the Small Spirits Matter Most in Finnish Folklore

When you think of Finnish myths and folklores, maybe you picture grand adventures — heroes, gods, and epic quests. Most of us do. The Kalevala, our national treasure, is often the first thing that comes to mind when someone mentions Finnish myths (if you’ve ever heard of them in the first place!).

But when I think about Finnish myths and old beliefs, I find myself wandering down a different path. Sure, I’ve read the Kalevala and have it on my bookshelf (and sometimes borrow inspiration from it), but it’s never been the backbone of my work.

Actually, there was a time when I dove into myths and wondered if this world was really for me. No matter where I looked, there it was: Kalevala. It’s a fine book and has definitely shaped our culture and the way we see the world. But it wasn’t what I pictured our ancestors’ beliefs to be.

For me, it’s a little too grand, a bit too focused on humans and their big deeds. If the Kalevala is a fancy evening gown — beautiful, but not for every day — then the real heart of Finnish folklore, to me, is more like a favorite pair of woolen socks: humble, practical, and woven into daily life.

What has always been part of our everyday are the little, often invisible, creatures. Elves, spirits, gnomes — small guardians and mischief-makers who slip between the roots and stones, keeping watch and sometimes stirring up a little trouble. These beings have quietly shaped Finnish homes and habits for centuries.

So much so that a home without its own gnome wasn’t (maybe still isn’t…) truly a home. It was merely an unsafe building that didn’t run properly.

(Fun fact: when a child moved into their own house, it was common practice to take ashes from their childhood fireplace and sprinkle them into the new one. This way, a member of the gnome family would also move in and look after them as they started their new life.)

Every tree, rock, patch of land, and body of water has its own spirit. Every creature their own guardian, from humans to ants. Every living thing is an important and valuable part of the world.

With my art, I’m not trying to summon grand gods into your living room. Instead, I like to think that each print brings a gentle helper — a gnome, perhaps — into your home. Someone to keep you company, bring a bit of magic, and, if treated with kindness, make sure things run smoothly.

(A word of warning: neglect your gnome, and you might just find your socks mysteriously disappearing… you can try and blame the washer, but…)

So while the world might celebrate the big, bold stories, I find the real magic in the quiet, everyday myths — the ones that live in the corners of kitchens and the shadows of the woods. That’s the spirit I hope to share with you: a little everyday wonder, a connection to something ancient, and maybe, just maybe, a friendly gnome at your side.