Redefine Success
Growing up in a Greek immigrant household, success had a very clear definition. You pursue a professional career or built a business, so you can make money and create stability. My parents came from a place marked by poverty and civil war. They didn’t leave that behind to take risks. As my mother used to say, it was all “for a better future.”
So, when I told my father I wanted to pursue art, his immediate response was to say, “You don’t make money with that.” Trying to make him understand that art wasn’t just something I liked but something I needed was extremely hard, especially at a young age. But somehow, I’ve still never let go out it.
Choosing What Calls to You
I’ve been drawing for as long as I can remember. Sketching was always there, something I returned to often without thinking. I didn’t see it as a career at first. It was just something I loved to do.
Over time, that changed. The more engaged I became with art, the more it became something I couldn’t deny. I started taking evening courses at different art institutions. Eventually, I joined the Canadian Academy of Art, where I attended classes four nights a week after work for three years.
It wasn’t a sudden leap of faith. It was the gradual realization that art wasn’t optional for me. Encouragement from my first art teachers helped, but my conviction came from somewhere internal. It was a quiet but persistent force that kept pulling me back into the work.
There will always be tension between security and calling. One offers certainty, while the other asks for belief without guarantees. But with time, I started to understand that the real risk wasn’t choosing art. I had more to lose by ignoring it.
Learning What Boldness Really Is
Boldness is often misunderstood as reckless risk-taking. But for me, it’s been something that developed over time. You don’t just take risks. You learn which ones matter, and that only comes from lived experience.
At one point, I decided to rent a studio. I didn’t know where the decision would lead, but something inside pushed me toward it. Like the quote from the Field of Dreams film, “If you build it, they will come.” That decision changed everything for me. It made me feel like a serious artist, not just someone with a hobby.
The studio quickly became my sanctuary, a place where I could think about nothing except art. It gave me confidence and permission to be explore. It became one of the first moments where I felt like I had truly taken a step towards realizing something real.
The Influence of Those Who Came Before
Looking at the work of other artists has shaped what I believe to be possible. Mark Rothko spoke about wanting his audience to feel something spiritual. His use of shape and muted color created a sense of serenity and stillness in his work that has stayed with me.
Ad Reinhardt carried similar depth in his work. Joan Mitchell brought expression and freedom through color. Ellsworth Kelly and Frank Stella explored form and abstraction in ways that challenged what a painting could be.
When I think of the artists who inspire me, it’s not just about their work but more so the conviction behind it. These artists took bold chances and pushed boundaries. They didn’t try to please anyone. Rothko even returned a major commission for the Seagram Building because he couldn’t accept the idea of his work being reduced to a backdrop for dining. This level of conviction continues to inspire me, as it shows that boldness isn’t just about what you create but what you also refuse.
The True Cost of Silence
For anyone standing on the edge of committing to their creative path, the quest is often about risk. But the deeper question is: what does it cost not to choose it?
For me, the answer is simple. The question of “what if” will haunt you forever. I never wanted to look back and regret not trying, at least not when it came to pursuing the one thing that felt truly important to me. I wanted to show my children that anything is possible. Simply existing isn’t enough. Nobody remembers you for your car or house. They remember what you did, what you created, and what you stood for.
Comfortable is a great feeling. But nothing ever grows there. Boldness isn’t optional. It’s the condition required to create something meaningful.