And then there was this conversation I had with my husband the other night. We were talking about an artist friend of mine who quoted a potential client a really large sum of money for a custom order they were inquiring about. I admitted that I didn't think I would be able to quote that high an amount on my work. That I felt I would somehow be obliged to cut the person a 'deal' based on the volume of the work they would want. Even if they didn't ask for one.
He asked why I thought asking someone to pay me what my work is valued at would be too much for me to ask. Why I was afraid of making money or making a profit. And I had to stop and think about whether I really and truly do value my work.
It's a complicated issue for me. It's not just about whether I value the work that I do, it's also whether I value ceramics, or art on the whole. As 'luxury' items that I can't often afford, I find myself questioning the value of making more stuff in a world that already has enough stuff. I see well-designed, manufactured objects out there in the world for cheap and my psyche questions why my work should be so much more costly to a consumer than that work?
I can't help but come back to the reason why I do what I do at this point in the conversation that happens in my head: I love what I do and what I make. It's a craft and a skill that I've been honing for close to 17 years and it's something so part of who I am and what I dream about that I can't imagine my life without making. And at the end of all that I realize it's not about the money for me. If it were, I wouldn't still be doing it. And that's the catch, the hitch, the dilemma I have with my own argument. If it ain't about the money, it's most likely not going to be profitable in a financial sense. If I fall into the trap of measuring success financially, then given my mind-set I'm probably always going to be disappointed.