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my cousin asked me to make a piece for her new apartment. i quoted her $400, already discounted, my normal price for that size is $650. she said "oh i thought family would just help out" and i caved and did it for $150 in materials. took me about 14 hours total. she posted it on instagram and someone asked where she got it. she told them it was "a gift from a friend." haven't done a family discount since. i'd rather give someone the piece outright than do that weird in-between thing where they feel like they're doing you a favor by paying you below your rate.

i did a commission for a friend's mom last year. charged her 40% less than my usual rate because, you know, family connection. felt good at the time. she loved the piece, told everyone. now i'm getting calls from three of those referrals, and i'm realizing i've set a precedent i can't break without seeming like a total jerk. how do you disentangle yourself from that kind of thing? i'm almost tempted to just eat the loss and charge them full price, but the thought makes my eye twitch.

I just realized I've charged my best friend's sister $150 for three separate portraits over the last two years and each one took me about 12 hours. That's like $4 an hour. I can't even say no because she's "family" now and she's so excited every time and tells everyone about my work and I just sit there doing the math in my head while she's hugging me. I know I'm the problem. I know I have to raise it. But I told her $200 for the next one and she said "ok!" and now I'm wondering if I could've said $300 and she would've said ok to that too. Anyone else just absolutely terrified of naming a real number to someone who knows you? How do you break the cycle without feeling like a jerk?

I painted a portrait of my sister-in-law's mother two years ago. Almost free, obviously, family price, I think I said €150 and we both knew it was a lie. Oil, 60×80, took me close to a week of evenings. Last month she put it in a small exhibition of her own work. Not mine, hers, but the portrait was the thing people stood in front of. A gallerist asked me what I'd charge for something like that. I said a number out loud, doubled it on the spot out of embarrassment, and I could see him filing it away as cheap. The piece that got me the most genuine interest of my career is the one I practically gave away. I'm not sure I know what to do with that. It's not regret, exactly. It's the feeling that nobody will ever believe my real prices now because the best proof of what I can do is marked at a tenth of it.

A friend from years ago asked me to paint her daughter's portrait for her 18th. I said yes at €600, already half what I'd charge a stranger for a 50x60cm oil on linen. She's a friend, fine. Then the emails started. "Could you do it from these five photos instead?" "Actually she's wearing a different dress now, can you change the colour?" "Her hair is shorter than that photo shows." "My mother thinks the background should be lighter." I repainted the face from new reference, adjusted the dress twice, scraped and repainted the background. All told I probably spent close to 25 hours on a painting that should have taken maybe 12. At my usual hourly rate for commissioned work that comes out to about €24 an hour. My assistant, who stretches canvases, makes €16. So I earned roughly the same as the person who stretches my canvases, for a job that required twenty years of training. The friend was happy. The daughter cried when she saw it. Beautiful moment. I don't regret it exactly. But I sat down afterwards and did the math and realised I'd basically given her a €1,200 painting plus a free workshop in how to manage an artist. Never again without a contract that says: one reference, one revision, anything beyond that is a new fee. Curious if anyone else has a number attached to the "learning experience" of a commission that ran away from you.

Painted a 120x150 for an old friend's anniversary two years back. She told me, tearfully, she couldn't afford my gallery price and I said of course, don't worry, we'll find something. Named €600, which was about a third of what that size goes for. She spread the word, quietly, and for a year after that I got three more people "from her circle" who all wanted the same deal. Each one I had to find a way to say no to without making her look bad. The painting itself was good, actually maybe the best of that stretch, and part of me still resents it. Not her. Me. I set the number and I treated my own time like it was worth nothing when a friend was on the other end of it. I've started telling younger painters in the academy a simple rule I wish someone had given me: the discount should come out of your profit, not your hourly rate. Figure out your real number first, then decide how much of it you can afford to give away. If you can't afford to give it all away, you can't afford to give it at all. I know it sounds ungenerous. It's actually the only way I stayed generous at all.

Sold a 16x20 charcoal portrait this week for $180 and I finally did the math I've been avoiding for years. 22 hours on it. That's $8.18 an hour and I'm honestly embarrassed I typed that out. The worst part is I knew better. She was my aunt's friend so I did the "family discount" thing before she even asked. Aunt's friend, not even family. I gave away money nobody asked me to give away. I keep doing this. I price from fear. Fear that if I say $400 she'll say no and I'll have wasted the charcoal. But I already spent the hours. The hours are spent either way. I'm not mad at her. I'm mad that I can't seem to stop being the one who underprices myself before anyone else gets the chance to do it. Every single time. Like I'm pre-emptively apologizing for being worth something. Gonna sit with $8.18 for a while and try to actually feel it instead of just doing the math again next time and doing the same thing.

charged a client $350 for a 4x4 acrylic piece last month. then i actually timed it out of curiosity. 40 hours total including sketching, the ugly middle phase, the "repaint the whole sky" phase i do every single time, and talking myself out of gesso-ing over it and starting fresh. that's $8.75/hr before materials. after materials it's like $7. and here's the sick part, i know a painting takes me 15 truly good hours and i know i price it like it takes 8. i have the data. i just get scared the number looks big and shave it down. meanwhile the client framed it, sent me a photo, thanked me again. they'd have paid $600 without blinking and i know that too. i'm trying to just... charge the honest number next time. we'll see if i actually do it or if i fold and give the "friends and family" discount to a stranger again lol. anyone else have the exact math memorized on what they should charge vs what they charge? sick of being my own worst negotiator.

So I painted these two pet portraits, same size, same level of detail, both head-and-shoulders of someone's dog. A stranger commissioned me and I charged $150 and felt nervous about it. Then a friend from college asked me to do her cat and I immediately went "oh for you, $50" and then I painted the cat and it actually came out better than the stranger one. So my friend got the better painting for a third of the price and I keep thinking about that. Like I know we all do the friends and family discount thing and it's fine but it bothers me that my work isn't the same price regardless of who's asking. Or maybe it should be different because the relationship is different? My mom says I'm overthinking it because the friend will tell people and send me more work but also my mom thinks I should charge more for everything so I don't even know anymore. I guess I'm wondering where the line is between being generous with people you love and just devaluing your own time because you feel awkward asking for money from someone you actually know.

Back in the lean years I took a restoration job that paid a commission, not a flat fee. The contractor was a friend, the project was a Byzantine floor in a small church up near Kilkis, genuinely interesting work, and I was eating rice and beans so I said yes without asking the number that mattered. Eight months on my knees, in and out, matching tesserae that some other hand had set in the 6th century. Lovely job. When it was done he came by with a cheque and it all felt very brotherly until I did the division in my head driving home. €2.10 an hour. I knew the whole time it was cheap. I didn't know it was that cheap. I think some part of me didn't want to do the math because then I'd have to leave, and the work was the only thing keeping me sane in that period. I still take friends-and-family work at a discount sometimes. But I always write down the hourly number before I start, in the margin of the sketch, so I can't pretend later. If it comes out under minimum wage I either raise it or pass. The church floor was worth doing. The price was not.

I did a portrait for a close friend's father last year. Old man, beautiful face, the kind of light you want to paint. I quoted her my normal rate minus a bit, 900 plus materials, because she is a friend and I wanted to help. It took six months. Not six months of full days, but six months of my life, because she kept coming back with the frame, the lighting in the room where it hangs, could I soften the background, her mother didn't like the mouth. Every revision I ate the hours because the price was already fixed. When it was finally done I did the math out of spite. Somewhere around 4 euros an hour. My student rate in 2003 was better. The friendship is fine. But I learned something stupidly late: a discount should be a gift, not a price you set once and then can't touch. What I should have done is quote the honest price and quietly knock off a third at the end as a gift. Instead I gave away a year. Never again.

Did a linocut for a mate's mother two years back. She wanted a heron for the sitting room, lovely woman, made us dinner while the ink dried. Charged her €80 because sure, she's family-adjacent, and it was only one colour, how long could it take. Twelve hours it took. Twelve. And between the lino, the paper, the good ink, the proofing runs where the bugger wouldn't sit flat... I made about €4.50 an hour and told myself it was the gesture that mattered. Now every second cousin and neighbour's dog is looking for the "€80 heron." Two women this month alone, and one of them was genuinely offended when I said €180 for a bigger one. "But you did Joan's for eighty." Joan knows the price of bread, so she does, and she's mortified, but the cat's out of the bag. Worst part is I can't even be mad at them. I set the damn rate. If you undervalue your own work once, that's the price that follows you around for the next five years. I've had to have the awkward chat three times now and I still hate it every go. Lesson's learned anyway. Friend rate is a bottle of whiskey and a proper thank you, not a discount that pads itself into every conversation after. Sure I'm still not sure how to undo it, but I'm not doing another one at eighty. That ship has sailed.