We recently connected with Olena Krevenets and have shared our conversation below.

Olena , thanks for joining us, excited to have you contributing your stories and insights. Are you happier as a creative? Do you sometimes think about what it would be like to just have a regular job? Can you talk to us about how you think through these emotions?

I am very happy to be an artist and to work across different kinds of creative projects. My experience has allowed me to bring many parts of myself together and turn them into new skills. Years ago, I could never have imagined that I would design a yacht interior, decorate an event for 270 people, create snow in summer, or bring beach vibes into winter. But this is what I love about being creative: my mind stays sharp, my imagination stays alive, and I’m constantly stretching my abilities.
Of course, I sometimes wonder what it would be like to have a regular job. Usually this thought comes to me when I’m networking or meeting people from more traditional professions. I listen to them talk about their work, and I catch myself thinking: their jobs sound so serious, so responsible, so “adult.” Being an adult, in that version of the world, means working as an engineer, accountant, doctor, or manager.
And then there is me.
I am a woman in my late thirties, a wife, a mother of a teenager — and part of my work is collecting sticks in the forest, foraging wildflowers in fields, noticing strange textures on the ocean shore, seeing fantastic creatures in the woods, and fantasizing about clouds. Sometimes it feels almost child-like. But I don’t mean childish. I mean alive, sensitive, curious, open.
The last time I had this thought, I was probably standing among people with very clear job titles and very structured careers, while my own mind was already turning some random material, color, or natural shape into a future set, artwork, or installation. For a moment, I questioned myself. Am I serious enough? Is this a real life? Is this a real profession?
And then I realized: yes. This is my profession. My job is to see what other people might pass by. My job is to transform ordinary things into atmosphere, emotion, and meaning. A regular job may look more stable from the outside, but my creative life gives me a sense of purpose that I don’t think I could replace. It allows me to stay close to wonder — and for me, that is not an escape from adulthood. That is how I understand it.

Great, appreciate you sharing that with us. Before we ask you to share more of your insights, can you take a moment to introduce yourself and how you got to where you are today to our readers.

I am a Ukrainian-born visual artist, set designer, prop stylist, and creative director based in Canada. My work lives at the intersection of emotion, symbolism, and form. I don’t just make things look beautiful — I make them mean something.

I started as an artist very young. Drawing, theatre, costumes, materials, and storytelling were always part of my life. I studied applied arts in Kharkiv, Ukraine, and over the years my practice grew across many disciplines: textile sculpture, installation, set design, event styling, fashion, photography, visual storytelling, and immersive environments.

After living and working in Montenegro for almost a decade, where I developed my textile work and held solo exhibitions, I moved to Canada. Here, my practice expanded even more into cultural events, photo shoots, film and commercial sets, theatrical productions, festivals, and community projects.

I would describe myself as a maximalist, layered, eclectic artist. I love mixing colors, textures, meanings, epochs, symbols, and styles. I am not afraid of visual richness. I trust bold combinations, unexpected materials, and emotional contrasts. For me, beauty often comes from tension: softness and power, nostalgia and modernity, chaos and structure, fragility and strength.

Clients come to me when they want more than execution — they want transformation. I help turn abstract ideas into something visual, tactile, emotional, and memorable. Sometimes the problem is practical: a space needs to look cinematic, an event needs a strong visual identity, a set needs atmosphere, a brand needs a world around it. But often the deeper problem is this: the idea exists, but it doesn’t have a body yet. My job is to give it form.

I bring ideas to life with bold intuition and precise skill. I can work with a clear creative brief, but I can also build a concept from a feeling, a story, a color palette, a character, a piece of music, or even one strange object. Every project is a collaboration built on depth, vision, and intention. I’m known for taking abstract ideas and shaping them into something tactile, layered, and powerful.

What sets me apart is my ability to move between art and production. I can dream big, but I also know how to make things happen. I understand materials, timelines, budgets, sourcing, installation, visual composition, and the emotional language of space. Yes, I’m an artist — but I’m also a leader, a problem-solver, and a creative partner who delivers. I work with passion, but also with structure. With heart, but also with strategy.

I’m most proud of the fact that my work carries meaning. Whether I’m creating an artwork about Ukraine, designing a symbolic installation, styling a photo shoot, or building a set, I want people to feel something. I want the work to stay with them.

I want potential clients, followers, and collaborators to know that my work is never generic. I don’t create decoration for decoration’s sake. I create atmosphere, story, and emotional impact. My brand is rooted in depth, craft, bold visual language, and the belief that objects, spaces, and images can hold memory, identity, beauty, and truth.

We often hear about learning lessons – but just as important is unlearning lessons. Have you ever had to unlearn a lesson?

One lesson I had to unlearn was that being humble, obedient, and convenient would make my life safer or better.

I was not a very comfortable child. I was curious, emotional, stubborn, and always testing my own borders. My parents were raised in the Soviet Union. I was only born there, but I grew up in a young independent Ukraine, and the shadow of that old system was still very present. In many families, including mine, there was this idea that it was better not to be too bright, too loud, too visible, or too different. Just be “normal.” Be good. Be modest. Don’t attract too much attention.

Of course, my family wanted the best for me. I understand that now. But their version of “the best” came from their own experience, fears, and survival instincts. For them, stability was safety. For me, too much stability started to feel like a life that belonged to someone else.

When I was 16, I left my parents’ home for the first time. I knew I would probably return soon, but I desperately needed to feel independent, even for a short time. I needed to know that I could make a decision for myself. That moment taught me something important about who I am: I don’t naturally seek comfort first. I seek meaning, satisfaction, freedom, and happiness.

Later, when my husband suggested immigration, I hesitated at first. I didn’t know what to expect. It was frightening to leave what I knew and start again in a different country, with a different language and a different life. But I jumped anyway — and I have never regretted that decision.

I learned that being brave has given me far more opportunities than being humble ever did. I learned to knock on closed doors. Sometimes I knew they were locked, but I still tried. And sometimes, to my surprise, they opened.

So the lesson I had to unlearn was obedience for the sake of obedience. I had to stop shrinking myself to make other people more comfortable. I had to learn that being visible, ambitious, emotional, bold, and even a little disobedient is not something to be ashamed of. For me, it became a way to survive, to grow, and to build a life that actually feels like mine.

Is there mission driving your creative journey?

My life motto is “more is more.”

That idea drives almost everything in my creative journey. My work is excessive, layered, emotional, and wild — not because I want to decorate the world with more things, but because I want to reveal more meaning. More texture. More feeling. More possibility. More freedom.

I’ve never been interested in ideas that are too safe, too polite, or too empty. Honesty matters to me — in people, in materials, in art, and in the creative process. Something raw and real will always be more interesting to me than something perfectly polished but lifeless.

Curiosity is probably the strongest engine behind my work. I often think of imagination as a muscle: it has to be trained, stretched, challenged, and pushed into new territory. Sometimes that curiosity looks poetic, and sometimes it looks completely ridiculous — like the time I broke my finger trying to crack open a rock on the beach because I thought there might be a fossil inside. No regrets. That moment says a lot about the way my mind works: there is always a need to see what is hidden inside things.

That same instinct follows me into my art and design practice. Once, while working on a product design project, the phrase “create new forms” came to me. It stayed with me and became much bigger than one project. It became a personal rule. Don’t just repeat what already exists. Look deeper. Break things open. Find a new shape, a new atmosphere, a new visual language, a new world.

So yes, there is a mission behind my work. It is to expand what feels possible. To create things that feel alive. To inspire people to become braver, more playful, more expressive, and more free in their own creativity.

One of the most satisfying moments is when someone asks, “How do you even think like this?” Not because it makes me feel special, but because it means a door opened somewhere in their imagination. Even a small one.

For me, creativity is not only about making beautiful things. It is about finding hidden meaning, creating new forms, and inviting others into a richer, stranger, more alive world.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.olenakrevenets.com
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/olena_krevenets
• Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/alyonakrevenets/
• Other: olenakrevenets@gmail.com

Image Credits

Rene Brar, Dave Worden, Sofi Manko, Miss Keely Marie, Biankha Flower