What I’ve learned as a full time artist, pt. 1

If my year was a funhouse, I ran into every mirror before I made it out. Mistakes (in retrospect) are good because I got to see first hand why something was the wrong choice. If something negatively impacts your time, money, or mental health, you usually learn pretty quickly not to make that mistake again (except me, I seem to be a glutton for punishment!). Here’s a few things I’ve learned this year as a full time artist.

There’s seasonality to self employment

A time to create, a time to sell. Time to reap, time to sow. After Christmas passed there was a lull. I knew that the holidays are a huge source of revenue for many small owners, but I wasn’t prepared for the grinding halt that was January…a bit of February..and kinda March. The sound of silence for a fledgling small business was nerve wracking. Had I not spent so long keeping my ear to the ground for a pulse, maybe I would have realized that winter was the time to replenish inventory so that I could hit the ground running in the spring. Looking back, not taking the slow periods to prioritize inventory left me scrambling to stock up enough to feel prepared for spring markets. Because I wasn’t prepared with enough pieces, I couldn’t participate in more markets. Since pottery is a slow and manual process, I couldn’t do things last minute.

It’s June now, debatably another slow time as summer is about to start and people leave for vacation. It’s also a prolonged stretch of time before another gift giving holiday. I know now that this is my opportunity to create and invest time into expanding my business and art practice. Knowing what season I’m operating in helps me schedule my time effectively and minimizes my stress, or I like to pretend it does.

Admittedly, when I started out my pitfall was anticipating my sales to be consistent throughout the year and when I didn’t meet these assumptions, I felt uneasy. Now, I embrace the seasons. 

Posting often is great, but it doesn’t always translate to more sales

In the last year I’ve doubled my followers on Instagram, not that I had a ton to begin with, but I’ve had a considerable boost. I made tons of reels and made posts that a company wanted to add as a collaboration on their instagram with and I gained more exposure. While it feels great to see that little number increase a bit, it doesn’t always translate to more sales (or even more engagement!). The problem was that the new wave of followers were fellow artists and while they seem to like the work I make, they’re not actually my audience I’m trying to attract. 

I will say that while building up my online presence doesn’t guarantee sales, engagement, or really anything - it works as a portfolio that you can point people to. The time you spend creating nice videos or photos pays dividends because your longevity, focus, and quality validate who you are as an artist. I feel confident when I link my instagram account for a market I’m applying to, or if a random person I’ve met wants to see my work.

It’s okay diversifying income streams

Actually, it’s probably a great idea. As much as I’d love to just be a ceramicist making a living solely on my own artwork, that’s not my current reality. Here’s some other ways I’ve supplemented my income:

      • Non-ceramic workshops

      • Working at a circus kids camp

      • Production pottery for another studio

I (now) choose my opportunities wisely. I’ve learned that sometimes the money isn’t worth the time that it takes you away from your art. If you think about your hourly rate making your own work and the rates you’d get working elsewhere, rationalize if it makes sense for you. I can’t tell you that answer because it depends on how much you need at the current moment and if you’re able to float until you get paid from your own work. For me, even in a lull, my time is still valuable. Taking a lower paying opportunity can cost me money because I lose the hours to make work that sells at a higher cost late and I’m not physically able to continuously overwork myself. Ceramics is hard on the body and my eyes when working on miniatures. 

I used to feel guilty or that I was compromising by taking on other work, I internalized the thought that I’m only an artist if I only do just my art, but — I gotta eat! There is certainly a balance to it all. I like to have a mix of predictable income but I will be strategic with how much of my available time I want to commit in order to obtain it. 

Focus on something!

Finally (for the sake of length), focusing on primarily one medium and niche was one of the best decisions I’ve made. Last year when I was laid off and starting out making art full time, I was spinning my wheels trying everything with no success. Painting one week, random illustrations the next. The lack of focus made it hard to put me in any kind of category and I wasn’t improving my skills strongly enough in a way that made a difference. Am I a professional artist or a professional dabbler? Dabbling is great! But think about what kind of work you want to be hypothetically hired to create and put that energy out onto the internet. I still make different art in a variety of mediums, but nowadays it’s mostly just for me and people now mostly associate me with ceramics and miniatures specifically. Obviously, this isn’t to say you can’t be a multi passionate artist and make a living that way. Tons of people do it, but it’s not where I’m at yet. 

Once I focused, it was easier to tell people who I was as an artist and what people could expect from me. This is who I am, take it or leave it. And that can be hard, but you can’t be everything and do everything. Narrowing my focus helped me find people who were interested in what I wanted to make and present to the world. My sales increased because I chose to sell one type of art at markets instead of dozens. People came to my booth because they knew what kind of art I sell. If people wanted a bowl, they’d go to the other ceramicist that was making dinnerware. By niching down, I was no longer in competition with other ceramicists in an already saturated market. Not many people do what I do, so it’s a unique offering at art markets. I’ll be the first to admit that my bowls are probably no better than another ceramicist at a market, so it’d be hard for me to sell bowls unless I invested time into differentiating them enough. 

This post would be impossibly long if I shared every single thing I’ve learned in the past year, so you’ll need to wait for a part two. Consider subscribing if you want to stay in the loop! Drop me your thoughts in the comments!

Next
Next

Finding Balance