Maryland Blue Crab
A friend and I were talking once about our time in art school, and comparing anecdotes from clients, jobs and other artists. I believe real life has the best stories. And experience is the best teacher.
Of course, this list is tongue-in cheek, and if you’ve done or said any of these to an artist, it’s ok. I know I have. So I compiled a list of statements that many artists (painters, graphic designers, illustrators, animators, etc.) have heard in the course of their day jobs, freelance work, or art shows. Here are the ten (for now) things:
- “Can you do me a logo for $50?”
The short answer: No, but for $50 I could draw you a spider in sixty seconds.
The long answer: Pricing can be tricky, but sometimes the answer for a customer is a quickie freelance site. I’ve had desperate times, and doing a job—especially one as involved as a logo or branding—has always gone badly for me.
- “I would love to play all day like you do.”
An art professor from my school told us a friend said this to him while visiting his studio. Then the friend proceeded to play with all of the finely cut paper the artist had just painted. The artist redirected him to a piece with a Japanese woman in the center. He proceeded to tell his friend a story of romance and heartbreak about the woman. By the end of the story, the friend wanted to buy the piece. The story wasn’t real, our professor told us, but his career was, and he was happy to let his friend think he played all day, as the friend handed over his credit card.
- “What’s that supposed to be?”
Short answer: What do you think it is? Then that’s what it is.
Long answer: I used to try to explain my art to people when I was experimenting with techniques and styles. Now I give them the short answer. And I still experiment.
- “I want a painting of a red apple. I want it 8 feet tall, three inches wide, and blue. And I want it to look appetizing.” Doing the impossible is nothing new to an artist. Choosing whether or not to do the impossible isn’t either.
- “I would like you to do these three paintings so I can see how they look first. Then I’ll pay you.”
Just…no. I learned the first time a ‘client’ took all of my drawings and ran, I needed to get at least half down before putting pencil to paper or brush to canvas. Over the years I have been tempted to satisfy a tight deadline by ‘just starting’ without the cash, but getting a deposit is always the best and only decision.
- “I don’t have any money, but this project will get you a lot of publicity.”
Once I was driving to a meeting at an old, historic church. The potential client wanted a mural above the altar.
On the way to the meeting, I stopped at a car accident, giving first aid to an Hispanic man with a head injury. Calming him and his wife down as best I could in English, I ran to a nearby pizza place and asked if anyone spoke Spanish. One of the chefs came and helped and I left, making the meeting a little late.
When I got to the meeting I started crying and explained what had just happened. The man handed me a tissue and went on to explain what he wanted: a full 20 x 10 mural for free.
I don’t know if it was the remaining shock of the accident, or the shock of someone wanting me to spend weeks on a mural for nothing, but I left without the job…and feeling pretty ok about it.
Unless someone owns Amazon or NBC, they can’t give you the publicity you want for your art.
- “Can you just make the painting less detailed so it’s cheaper?”
“Hey doc, can you give me ibuprofen instead of setting the bone so it’s cheaper?”
I know, apples and oranges, but you get me.
- “You should draw puppies. That would sell.”
But I don’t want to draw puppies (or something else that has nothing to do with what I do). I want to draw what I draw. That makes it even more exciting when it sells.
- Can’t you just push a button in Photoshop? (When I quote a price for creating a book cover design)
Sure I can. Can you fix my plumbing? I know you just have to turn a wrench.
- Looking at a drawing in my sketchbook and running your finger over the drawing.
That just hurts, especially when someone’s greasy mitt not only smears the pencil, but embeds the oil in the paper, irreparable. On the bright side, I can make more. But I don’t let people handle my sketchbook anymore. Ever.