How much is your creativity worth?
In addition to writing I have several other creative outlets, including knitting and crocheting. One of the things within the “maker” movement for which I am extremely grateful is the recognition that – while these are valuable skills in a purely practical sense – these are also creative and artistic pursuits.
Part of the reason these, and other textile arts, have been dismissed is, I am sure, because they were seen, primarily or entirely, as “women’s work,” but that is changing. (Thank you, Rosey Grier, for sharing your love of needlepoint!)
For reference, that is a standard ballpoint in the lower right. The needles in this picture are about the thickness of a pencil lead.
But much as I love to grab some yarn and needles I have some serious limits on the type of projects I take on. And one of those limits is, frankly, financial.
Creative pursuits cost money, sometimes serious money.
We all define for ourselves what “serious money” is, but let’s be honest here. If we are retired, or planning our retirement, we will generally be living on less than we have been during our working lives, sometimes a lot less. True, there are expenses we will no longer have: professional wardrobes, commuting, meals away from home, perhaps fewer visits to the barber or hair salon, and maybe less help with household or yard chores that we haven’t had time for. But those generally don’t offset the reduction in income.
We have (or will) talk about those considerations as we go along here. However circumspect we are about discussing finances – and we were all taught that talking about our income is rude – this is something we all thing about, worry about, obsess over.
What started me down this line of thought was a recent post from a knitting newsletter I subscribe to. I get an email once a week with tips, tricks, and tutorials, as well as promotion for the shop that produces the newsletter. This is a serious LYS (yes, this is an actual acronym for Local Yarn Shop, used by knitters in chat rooms and forums), and they carry fabulous, beautiful, and expensive yarn. In this week’s newsletter there was a promo for a small rug kit. The rug, about 30”x40”, was gorgeous, and the kit came with all the needed materials and a pattern – for $130.00.
Now, I don’t know about you, but $130.00 represents a respectable percentage of my monthly income. It is a not-insignificant amount of money for me. I know people who regularly drop that kind of money on supplies and more power to them, but it really isn’t within my budget.
Which brings me to me point.
Materials, supplies, tools all cost money. They represent a real, tangible cost of doing what you love. Some of those things come in a wide range of costs, and can be more or less affordable depending on your own financial situation and comfort level. Deciding what is a reasonable cost is a personal decision, and it is going to be different for each person. But whatever you decide is right for you.
Honestly, I find this a kind of elitist gatekeeping, and one that raises my hackles. Is the work the maker puts into a blanket less worthy because it’s made of less-expensive yarn? Is a painting less beautiful because it was done with inexpensive brushes? Do words carry less weight because they were written in a $2 notebook with a cheap pencil?
I don’t think so. I think each person’s creation is valuable simply because it exists.
You made a quilt from blue jeans you bought by the pound at a thrift store? Good for you! I bet the person that sleeps under that quilt (whether it’s you or someone you know or a complete stranger) is grateful for the time you spent creating that piece.
This shawl, a piece I am immensely proud of, was made of leftover yarn from many pairs of socks. In essence it was made of "free" yarn, yet I think it's one of my favorites!
You created a small table from scrap lumber you had in your shop? That’s great! Someone has a place to set their coffee cup while they read a book or watch TV.
You drew a sketch on a napkin while sitting in a coffee shop waiting for a friend? Fabulous! I’ll bet there is someone who will keep that piece as a reminder of you and your skills. As a matter of fact, I had a co-worker who often added cartoon-y sketches to phone messages left on my desk. I still have those notes, tucked away in my mementoes, nearly 40 years later. Many were drawn on scraps of paper where he scribbled those messages and they make me smile every time I see them.
Don't let financial restrictions keep you from making the things you love. Work with what you can afford and take pride in what you make.
Do what you love, at whatever cost is comfortable for you. If you can afford that $130 rug kit then buy it and enjoy it. But if you can’t, if dime-store yarn is what fits your budget, don’t feel like your work is any less worthy.
The same goes for tools. Buy the best you can afford because they are probably worth it in the long run, but don’t discount what you are able to do with less-expensive ones. This is especially true if you aren’t sure you will get enough use out of a tool – buy a low-end model, one that doesn’t strain the budget. If you find it worthwhile you can always upgrade, as long as it’s still affordable for you.
Where that line is will be different for each person, and sometimes for the same person at different times or for different projects; I have splurged on yarn for a special project when I could afford to do so, but I refuse to feel “less than” when I’ve made a project from inexpensive materials.
There’s a secret about gatekeepers: They can only enforce their limitations if we let them.
So ignore them, walk right through that gate with your affordable tools and supplies, and live your creative life by your own standards.