What If It All Works Out?

Being practical, Virgos, my birthday, art history

I was 17 years old when I graduated high school. My mum thought I wanted to be a veterinarian, my dad didn’t care what I studied as long as I went to university, and then there was me. Legally, I couldn’t buy a glass of wine, but society expected me to pick a life direction. Some seem to know from a young age, feeling called or pulled to a specific path. But I was one of the lucky ones who liked too many things, and I simply couldn't decide.

So, I sold my very used, barely working car and bought a ticket to Brazil. I delayed the decision for another year. I took dance lessons, made friends who spoke no English, danced into the night, decided guava was my favourite fruit, and returned to Canada six months later, finally 18 years old. And still undecided.

That's when my father sat me down and told me, in no uncertain terms, that we hadn't moved to Canada for me to stop at just a high school education. I can still feel the worry and shame welling up in my body when I think of that conversation. To be clear, I wanted to go to university—I just didn't know what I wanted to commit to. It felt like a massive commitment. I had friends whose parents paid for school or who gunned for scholarships because they'd always known they wanted to be doctors. I knew I'd need to go into debt, which meant I was taking the decision very seriously. No one was going to help me out. I was the kid smart enough to get honours but not wise enough to pick a direction, and scared of making a mistake.

My parents went to school in Poland; they didn’t understand the academic system here either. So, when I chose design, they didn’t think much of it. It was something, which was better than nothing.

The truth is, I chose design because I was being practical. I grew up with an artist mother and a carpenter father. Mum filled our home with creativity, while Dad taught me how to lay down flooring and use tools. Together, they showed me what a strong work ethic looks like.

I figured, no one might hire an artist, but someone would hire a designer. It seemed close enough, right? Lucky for me, I lived in a city with a great design program. Over the years, while building my design portfolio, I also nurtured my artist’s heart. I took every photography class I could, eventually landing in an intensive course with graduate-level students. I was in heaven. I learned printmaking and took late-night drawing classes. Sure, I studied typography and branding, but I also got to grow as an artist.

Looking back, I’m grateful for what ‘being practical’ has brought me: a career that lets me work from anywhere I choose. I work with amazing clients who want to bring their ideas to life, and whenever I get frustrated, I remind myself, “Ula, you’re doing what you dreamed of when you graduated.” And it’s true.

This week is my birthday, and as the day draws closer, I’ve been thinking a lot about what the next year, five, or even ten years will be like for me. My practical Virgo brain tells me to keep pushing, to keep growing—I’m on an amazing path. Yet, the 17-year-old inside me wonders: Can I be an artist?

And I’ve begun to think, what if I acted as if everything would turn out okay? Because it always has. I put in the work. I’m never afraid to learn. I always pick myself up when I stumble.

Ideas float around—getting my Masters of Fine Arts, applying for grants, submitting to photography competitions. There’s been a shift. What if it all works out?

When I started university, I told myself my biggest goal was to be able to work from anywhere. This desire was rooted in knowing what it feels like to be unable to see family. Now, I realise it’s not about working on a vacation but about not feeling stuck in one place, unable to leave.

So, from day one, I chipped away at this goal. When I met my partner, and he told me he had to move across the country in six months and wasn’t sure we could be in a relationship, I confidently said I could always move. And I did. I took the leap of love and uprooted myself, and it all worked out. A few more cross-country moves, and guess what? It all worked out. The bills are paid, we travel, we save, we’re happy.

So now, what if it all worked out, and in ten years, I look back and say, “Wow, I didn’t know how I’d get here. But I did. I am living that 17-year-old's secret dream, being an artist.”

So happy birthday to all the Virgos! I hope we find a way to balance our practical nature with a dash of dreaming. Let's believe it will all work out.

Personal Work

We had family visiting this past week, so we took them on one of our favorite paths nearby. Moss, ferns, cliffs, and endless trails through a West Coast forest—my personal heaven.

Disability and Art: Hit play and learn

Annie Leist, MOMA’s associate educator in Community, Access, and Teen Programs, discusses Andrew Wyeth’s depiction of a person with a disability in "Christina’s World"—and asks us to consider both the joys and limitations of his approach.

Andrew Wyeth, Christina's World, 1948

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Hey, you made it to the end! I have a little secret for you.

Okay, it’s no secret that I’m a Virgo—I’ve made that pretty clear. But what drives me up the wall is just how accurate the description of a Virgo fits me. I don't exactly love my perfectionism or my tendency to be methodical. Sure, these traits have their perks, but as you might have guessed from this week’s musings, I tend to default to practicality. So, it takes practice to let myself dream and chase ideas that aren't always sensible. When I wish all Virgos a little balance, I’m being a bit cheeky. I'm too practical to truly believe in astrology, but I’m also equally annoyed at how spot-on it seems… at least about me.