Working Artist
I have been money-minded lately and I thought it might be helpful to write a bit about income and working as an artist here for folks who are curious. I get a lot of emails and DMs about how cool it is that I make a living off of quilts. It is really cool! I agree. But I do not make a living off of quilts- not entirely and sometimes not at all. And that's not really a choice- it's just where I'm at in my practice. I have made part of my income off of my art for all of my adulthood and I have always prioritized it as much as I could while keeping a roof over my head. I started on Etsy and at small markets and festivals, plus selling directly to my community and taking on commissions (pre-IG). When I moved to Chicago I had a small collaborative online shop with a friend where we sold our handmade things, then my own online shop where I sold whatever I happened to be making, and now it's quilts and this Patreon!
But at the same time that those things were going on with my art practice I was also working part time (and sometimes full time) as a cashier and a manager at a food co-op, a janitor at a yoga studio, an exhibit coordinator/designer/curator at a map library, an organic farmer, a shoe sales person, a mattress sales person, a demo rep for a fair trade coffee company, a sign painter, a stocker at a different co-op, a flatstock screenprinter, an artist assistant and shipping manager, and a farmers market veggie seller. I’ve also run my own virtual garage sale off and on to supplement income.
All of those jobs have supported me as an artist (and a human being)- they've paid my rent, built a small savings, and kept me in art supplies. In looking for employment I've usually tried to find part-time jobs with additional perks- like access to free or affordable organic food (see the food co-ops and farms), access to cultural resources (see the map library and the yoga studio), or discounted practical goods (see all retail gigs). Working at jobs that align with my interests and hobbies has helped me build community. Those jobs and the folks at them have also taught me a great deal about managing the more bureaucratic aspects of being a working artist in the ol' USA- and a hell of a lot about setting clear boundaries. My art career has afforded me the opportunity to be selective about the jobs I take while letting any stigma around them roll off my shoulders (honestly, being gay also helps to not give two fucks about stigma cause you realize early on that it is someone else's problem). It has also given me the ability to quit jobs that weren't healthy, to go for stretches of time without a "real" job, and to work very part time for a lot of my adult life thus far. None of my jobs have come with health insurance or vacation time/sick pay, but selling my art has made it possible for me to pay for those things out of pocket.
In the last year I have been grateful for my art practice to the point of tears- and also paralyzed by it. In the moments when quilts have been our only income I have had to step back and remind myself that the path I have been building and walking down was not intended to lead us to living off of quilts in 2020- that's why I had a job! That's why Tavi had a job! The fact that I've been able, a few times this year, to step my practice up and support us with my art has allowed me to forgive myself for the many many moments when I have not managed it. Creating art that anyone wants to look at is not something I am particularly capable of when I am anxious or scared about survival. I've worked part time jobs both to stave off that anxiety and fear, but also to have a stable way to pay rent when they are present and my art practice is stalled. Losing that stability has impacted both our household income and my ability to sustain my own work- an experience I am undoubtedly not alone in across our big planet.
I'm not here to say this is a great and easy way to live, although it has been a pretty sweet existence at times. I try hard to live in the present and plan for the future and making my art practice a daily priority has guaranteed that it will be a part of that future, though it does not guarantee a lot else. In moments of doubt I turn again and again to this bit of writing by Annie Dillard:
“How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives. What we do with this hour, and that one, is what we are doing. A schedule defends from chaos and whim. It is a net for catching days. It is a scaffolding on which a worker can stand and labor with both hands at sections of time. A schedule is a mock-up of reason and order—willed, faked, and so brought into being; it is a peace and a haven set into the wreck of time; it is a lifeboat on which you find yourself, decades later, still living.”
I don't know what 2021 will hold for our household- it has been both affirming and terrifying to watch our lives crumble and find my art practice still (mostly!) standing. No matter what turns the future adds to this path, I know it will have quilts and writing to occupy my hands and smooth the way.