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Commissioned portrait of a woman's mother, from an old photo. Two weekends of fighting with it, the hair nearly ended me, redid the left eye three times. I came out to about 16 hours and I charged 400 zł. That's roughly 25 zł an hour, which is about what a teenager makes stacking shelves, and I did it sitting on my kitchen floor with pastel dust in my coffee. The worst part isn't even the money. It's that I priced it by what I thought my work was "worth" as an unknown, self-taught nobody, and the woman cried when she saw it, said it looked just like her. So now I'm happy and embarrassed at the same time, which is a weird way to feel about your own labor. I keep going back and forth on what a fair price would even be. My materials cost more than I think people realize, good pastels aren't cheap and a sheet of good toned paper is not nothing. And time is time, nobody gets it back. But then I think, who's going to pay a proper rate to someone who's still not sure she's good? That's the trap. I walk into it every time. Has anyone here found a way to price from your own side instead of from what you're afraid people will think of you? Because I clearly can't do it on my own.<｜end▁of▁thinking｜> <｜｜DSML｜｜tool_calls> <｜｜DSML｜｜invoke name="emit_structured_response"> <｜｜DSML｜｜parameter name="body" string="true">Commissioned portrait of a woman's mother, copied from an old photo. Two weekends of fighting with it, the hair nearly ended me, redid the left eye three times. 16 hours in total and I charged 400 zł. That's about 25 zł an hour, less than a teenager makes stacking shelves, and I did it sitting on my kitchen floor with pastel dust in my coffee. The worst part isn't even the money. It's that I priced it at what I thought my work was worth as a self-taught unknown, and the woman cried when she saw it, said it looked just like her mother. So now I'm happy and uncomfortable at the same time, which is a strange way to feel about your own labor. I keep going back and forth on what a fair price would even be. Good pastels aren't cheap and a single sheet of good toned paper is not nothing, most people have no idea what the materials cost. And the time doesn't come back. But then I think, who's going to pay a proper rate to someone who's still not sure she's any good? That's the trap and I walk into it every single time. Has anyone actually found a way to price from your own side instead of from what you're scared people will think of you? Because I clearly can't do it alone.

Kid working the register, maybe 19, real sweet, asked if I went to the art institute across town. I said nope, self taught. He goes "oh, so like YouTube?" and I laughed and said the internet and a lot of years of being bad at it. But I drove home kind of hot about it. Not at him. At me. Because here's the thing nobody tells you. There's no last day. No graduation where someone hands you a paper that says you know what you're doing. I've been making work for eleven years and I still open a face and think, I don't know how to do this, I've just done it a bunch of times and one of those times it was right. I have a stack of drawings from year two that would genuinely upset you. Bad proportions, dead eyes, everything floating. I kept them on purpose. When I'm convinced I've lost it I pull one out and go, ok but look at that jaw, you couldn't do that jaw back then. Anyway I'm in the middle of a big oil right now, a torso, and I've repainted the same shoulder four times. Four. It's finally starting to breathe. If you went the school route, I'm not coming for you. I'm jealous of the structure some days. But if you're self taught and you still feel like you're faking it, you're not. You're just the only one grading your own work and you're a harsh grader.

The gallery lady left a message on a Tuesday and I listened to it eleven times without calling back. Not exaggerating. Eleven. I counted, because I kept deleting it and then pulling it back out of the deleted folder like a raccoon. Here's the thing nobody tells you when you're self taught: the work is the easy part. Standing there saying "yes, those are mine, I made those, they're worth money" is where I turn into a person who suddenly has to go reorganize the turpentine shelf. Anyway I called her back today. Took me two weeks and a walk around the block twice before I could hit the button, and she picked up on the second ring and was completely normal about it. We're doing six pieces in March. I hung up and sat down on the floor of my kitchen for a minute. Still don't have the wall list figured out. Still convinced one of the six is the worst thing I've ever made. Both of those are true and I'm doing it anyway.

So I've been emailing back and forth with a rep about maybe putting a few pieces in a group show. Small space, back room of a coffee place, whatever, doesn't matter. She called yesterday to talk through it and asked, casual, where I studied. And I said I didn't. Didn't finish high school either, actually, not in any way that counts. There was this pause. Not long. Like two seconds. But I heard the whole thing land in it. Then she goes "oh, so you're self taught" and I could hear the word sitting down in a smaller chair than the one it was in before. I don't know why it got me. It's not new. I've had that same pause with maybe forty people at this point and normally I just move through it. But I sent her the images after and stared at the ceiling for like an hour, one of the big charcoals, the one where the hands are doing more than the face is, and I kept thinking, does she actually see it or does she see the gap. Here's the thing that's actually sitting on me. I don't know if I want to be in the show if she says yes now. Because I don't want to be the story. I want the drawing to be the story. Anyway I said yes to the call and framed the date like it was nothing. It's next Tuesday. I'll report back.

Ok so. I sent the email. The one to the gallery on Grand that I've walked past probably 40 times with my nose pressed against the glass like a dog. I had the draft sitting in my phone since March. MARCH. Every time I'd open it I'd find something wrong with a photo or a sentence and close it again. Today I just attached the three charcoals, the big one on the brown paper that took me 11 days, typed "hi, I'm Sol, self taught, here's my work" and hit send before I could think. Then I put my phone in a drawer and went and scrubbed my palette for 20 minutes for no reason. My hands were actually shaking. Which is insane right?? It's an email. But that draft was basically a little box where I kept all the reasons I'm not a real artist and it felt like mailing that box to a stranger. No idea if anything comes of it. Doesn't matter tonight. It's out of my phone and into the world and I'm gonna go make something ugly and big to celebrate. If you've got a thing sitting in drafts, this is your sign, send the stupid thing.

gallery strung me along for 14 months. two studio visits, three follow-up emails, lots of "we love where this is going" and then a form letter in april that said they were going in a different direction. i almost deleted it but i kept it bc it's kind of a perfect artifact. 14 months of polite nothing compressed into three sentences. the funny part is i know exactly what happened. they liked the work fine but i don't fit their roster. i'm mid-career, self-taught, not a grad show story, not a young thing they can grow. i'm the "interesting but not for us" shelf. and honestly i respect that more than the vague reasons. just say it. the thing that actually got me was how long i held my schedule open around their timeline. didn't apply to other shows bc i thought something was brewing. that's the part i'm still a little mad about. nobody tells you that waiting is a real cost, not just wasted time. anyway. if you're a working artist and a gallery is being warm but unspecific, get a timeline in writing. i wish i had.

I did the math last night because I couldn't sleep and I think I'm genuinely losing money on every piece I sell. Like a small drawing takes me 4-6 hours minimum, the big ones are 15-20 easy. I use good paper, good charcoal, fixative, all that adds up. $80 for something I spent 8 hours on is $10 an hour. I make more bartending one shift than I do from a whole week of selling work. But here's the thing, I'm terrified to raise them. Every time I think about listing a drawing for $200 I get this voice in my head like who do you think you are. You're self taught. Nobody knows your name. You're not even in a gallery. $200 for a piece of paper from someone's apartment? Please. And then I see artists with less skill (sorry, I said it) charging $500 for stuff that's technically weaker and I get so mad. But also jealous. But also I still won't raise my prices. My therapist says this is about worthiness or whatever and I told her maybe it's just about rent and being realistic lol. But I think about it constantly. Every time I hand over a drawing and take the money I feel a little sick. Anyone else stuck in the "I know I'm undercharging and I can't stop" loop? How do you break it without feeling like a fraud?