What I learned in my first year as an “artist”.
It’s been almost a year since I started to start calling myself an illustrator, and it’s been pretty awesome and very educational. In that time I’ve learned alot about what it takes to be an artist and even more about the business of art. Here are the biggest lessons that managed to sink through my thick skull.
The US Postal Service is my friend.
A lot of people bitch about the USPS, but I haven’t had a bad experience yet. Sure it can be frustrating when things take a bit longer to get to where you want them to go. But every person I’ve met at the post offices here has been so awesome and helpful. And I’ve done my best to be as nice to them as I can. I think it matters. I’ve seen people treat them like shit. Don’t be a dick to them. They don’t deserve it.
Pricing is painful.
Both art and the value of an object are subjective things. Applying a price to it is difficult. You have to find a price point you’re comfortable with that adequately compensates you for your time and any expenses.
I’ve read a bajillion blog post with tips on how to price. And even though I constantly worry about it, I keep coming back to the same thing. If I can find a price that makes me feel like selling the piece, whether it be an original or a print, isn’t a waste of my time, I try and stick with it.
When it comes to production, don’t go cheap.
This relates particularly to prints. Don’t skimp. Find a printer you feel really comfortable with and can talk to like a human being. Pay the extra money for good quality paper and ink. Get things letter pressed, screen printed, or offset print when you can. People pay attention not just to the quality of the art, but the quality of it’s reproduction as well.
When other artists tell you this is no way to make a living, believe them.
I’ve met very few artists who are able to do this work as their only employment. Most of those that do work almost entirely as commercial artists, which isn’t bad in any way shape or form. But I’ve often heard them say how their too burnt out and tired to spend time making the pieces they want to.
This is a super tough business to make it in. But don’t let that stop you. I’m really fortunate to have a day job that I love and provides for my family, and at this point I’m lucky that everything I’ve done has eventually paid for itself, and in some cases even given me a little money to do a print run of another piece or something like that. If I can keep that up for a while more, I’ll be psyched.
Paranoia abounds. Confidence is key.
When pieces don’t sell and print orders stop coming in, it can be easy to sink into a paranoid swirl of wondering: “Is my work not good enough?”, “Is it just that the market for art sucks?”, “Are my prices to high?”, “Am I charging too much for shipping?”, “Did people forget I exist?”
You’ve got to find ways to kill that. Have confidence in the work you’re producing. If you’re happy with it, that’s all you need. Keep putting it out there and let everyone else se that you’re confident in it.
Your family and friends will matter even more than they already do.
If I haven’t been clear with some of the above lessons, this stuff can take toll on you. Your family and friends are who you have to help pick you up. Don’t become a whiny bitch that leans on them for validation every five minutes (I’ve done it, it just pisses them off). But use them. You’re going to be so thankful you have them.
Above all, don’t stop.
You’re going to be faced with tons of thoughts about giving it up. Don’t.
If you need to, take a step back and focus on just making the pieces you want to make. Experiment with new mediums. Stop worrying about getting prints made, how much to sell things for, or how better to market your stuff.
Just keep making art, no matter what.
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