Category Archives: Art & Illustration

I am Tired of Selling.

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There used to be a little book-and-art-and-handmade-goods store on the North Shore of Chattanooga back in the 2010’s, when I was attending university nearby. Coming from the small and culturally dead town that I grew up in, places like these were new, and novel, and made me feel like a real adult just for being within them.

It was in this little store that I was first introduced to the concept of zines.

No one in my family had any association with alternative culture back in the 80’s or 90’s. Punk was just something you called teenagers when they acted out. There was no underground, no second or third option to the quiet, repeating monotony of consumption and tradition that was small town life back then.

All of this to say, I was intrigued – why would someone staple together black and white Xerox prints and sell them for four bucks at a store? What was this?

It was around this time, and thanks to discoveries such as these, that I was introduced to a great many new ideas surrounding governance, economy and class. And many of the zines in that little store were full of such new and alien ideas. But one little booklet in particular contained a singular line that has stuck with me for the past fifteen years:

“I just feel like there is more we can do for one another, as human beings, than buying and selling one another things.”

Given the location of this zine, in a part of the city considered hip and artsy, I recognized the irony of such a statement in a bundle of stapled paper that was, in fact, for sale. But we were all artists in those days, riding the waves of hipster nihilism and irreverence for any and all established structures to unknown horizons. We needed money for beer, American Spirits and rent. We scrounged materials out of the trash and made art to sell. It was beautiful, and fun, and felt so important at the time.

But in the end, none of it ever really liberated us. And even with as many artists who are out there now, with more ways to sell and promote yourself through social media, shows, conventions, and video, I can’t help but feel that the world is no better for it. Paving our own way as artists, eschewing desire for corporate status in favor of a live lived in creativity and honesty, was supposed to fix something. Maybe not everything. but something.

It feels now that for every problem that rises, there is a shirt and a sticker and a hat to be bought, so that you too can show you are part of the solution. There is a new reason to be afraid or disgusted or dissatisfied with things that you already have – but don’t worry, we’ve made a newer, better one with a green label.

And even as art continues to pour from our souls and our bodies, how rare is it now to find art that has not yet put through the wringer of marketability? A feeling become idea become commodity. It’s not wrong to make your living in such a way. Paying your bills by selling keychains, shirts, stickers, mugs, and myriad other goods. Creating art perfectly crafted to move those products off of your shelves and put money in your pocket.

But I don’t want to do it anymore. I am so tired of it all. I am tired of creating more things, copies of ideas, manufactured and packaged and shipped to take up more space in a world so crowded and littered with things. Things can be beautiful. But there are just so many.

I don’t know what to say. What to do about it. With our safeguards and promises failing all around us, I simply feel like there must be something better we can do.

Updates From the Front – Boxes, Day Jobs, and Re-Igniting the Fire

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These days, if I see an opportunity to do something, I do it. There’s no hee-hawing, no agonizing over the pros and cons, or wondering whether it would be better to just stay in and marathon some mindless entertainment. This is a major departure from the person I was in my twenties – yes, that person took a handful of solo trips, and once in a blue moon would go out “on the town” because the prospect of spending another night in front of Dragon Age became suddenly unbearable.

But when it came to major life decisions? Building a future and investing time in the things that really mattered? Nah. I had plenty of time.

Not so much any more.

Now, everything I do is fueled by the thought that if I don’t do these things now, they may never happen at all. I’ve spent far too many years using job insecurity and the prospect of moving out of state as excused to never really commit to anything serious. But if I keep waiting for “the right time”, I’ll be waiting forever. It is with this fire lit under my ass that brings me to my most recent accomplishment: a box.

My goal was to create a container for pencils, pens, and other art-making accouterments that you could carry around in your purse or backpack. I wanted it to be made of eco-friendly materials, and I wanted to find a manufacturer here in the United States that could produce it for me at a rate that was viable for re-selling.

I think I accomplished all of those things with one caveat – I seem to have forgotten what pencils are and what they look like, because the dimensions I requested are way off. I could fit a whole Nintendo Switch in this thing. But, that’s the reason we make prototypes.

A pencils case, clearly designed by someone who has never once seen a pencil.

I find myself wondering if each new piece of merchandise I dream up will be the one that will make my career as a working artist. I keep trying – searching for that magic bullet that I can slap a skull onto that will become a viral sensation and allow me to quit my day job. It really is a good thing that I actually enjoy the process of drawing and creating – else this might start to become frustrating.

My day job is, well. A job. And after more than six months of applications and interviews, it’s the first job I’ve been able to snag with both a consistent schedule and half-decent pay. I’ve taught myself the skills necessary to work in nearly every office setting – (Microsoft Office, Adobe, Quickbooks, SEO Optimization, just to name a few…) but so has everyone else, it seems. And despite the chaotic, seat-of-their-pants management style of my current employers, I am thankful for the paycheck. But damned if I don’t want out.

If I had dedicated myself to social media and making cute art with wide appeal from the very day I stepped off of the stage with my diploma? I’d likely be making my living off of my art by now. But I couldn’t have known what steps were necessary to make that dream a reality. None of us did. Those of us who have found that kind of success have often stumbled into it.

But here we are now. And I cannot fathom spending another moment regretting the things I didn’t do when I was younger. I’ve spent way too long doing that already. So let’s get to work.

The China Question (Ethics, Manufacturing, and Making a Living as an Artist)

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This is going to be a messy stream of thoughts more than anything else, but it’s a question that’s been rattling around in my head for some time now.

I’ve been in the process of packing up my entire house in preparation for a move that was supposed to happen last year. Life and financial circumstances have thrown a wrench in my moving plans, as they have a habit of doing, but I should be on track to move some time in the late summer or fall.

But, as a result, my online store has been on haitus for some time now. All of my prints, stickers, journals and other merchandise have been packed away in storage, where they will likely stay until I get settled into my new place. In the meantime, I’ve been spending time not only making new art, but researching new merch that I might be able to sell once I re-open my online sales.

This has led me to a disheartening realization.

There are plenty of artists whom I follow online that have shops of their own. And I’ve purchased prints and other goods from these shops myself. I want to support my fellow artists after all, and the things that they create are far and above anything that I can find in mass-production.

However, I’ve come to learn that while the enamel pins, cute handbags and flower-covered skirts that I adore may have been designed by an independent artist, they were more than likely manufactured overseas in a Chinese factory, just like the items produced for large retailers.

I understand why artists would be tempted to do this. China has more manufacturing capabilities than any other country in the world. If you can dream it up, there’s a company in China that can manufacture it for you. Not only that, but they can do so for prices that make it possible for you to turn a profit on your merchandise. For an independent artist who may rely on merch sales for a large part of their income, it’s important to have profit margins of at least thirty percent on the items that you sell, with fifty percent or more being the ideal.

It sounds like a good deal. But in 2023, you would be hard-pressed to find a person who isn’t at least somewhat aware of the unsafe working conditions in Chinese factories, the poverty wages and inhumane hours that citizens are required to work, as well as the environmental impacts of China’s unregulated manufacturing practices.

Unethical business practices and human rights violations aside, there’s also the high probability of intellectual property theft when doing business with Chinese manufacturers. Many an artist has produced their enamel pins, jewelry and other items using a Chinese factory, only to see their original designs pop up on Ali Express, Wish, and other marketplaces months later, usually at a fraction of the price of buying it from the artist’s own store.

Clothing manufacturing workers in Guangzhou, China. (Source: Fashion Magazine)

None of this is uncommon knowledge. Human rights groups and consumers alike have known for decades that there is a human and environmental cost to the cheap manufacturing services that China can offer. Large corporations like Wal-Mart and Amazon continue to do business with them, because their main concern is to produce a product as cheaply as possible for a market of people who want to buy it as cheaply as possible. That kind of business model has come to be expected from them.

But, as independent creators and artists, I thought we were supposed to do better.

And yet, take a look on Etsy or take a stroll down the artist’s alley of any popular convention, and your eyes are sure to be graced with acrylic charms, enamel pins, plushies, clothing, novelty handbags and other items that had a Chinese manufacturer to thank for their existence.

I have continued to sit and ponder this dilemma, and there’s really no easy answer to be found here. Many popular items, such as enamel pins, can’t be manufactured anywhere else but China due to regulations that are designed to keep our air, water, and soil uncontaminated. And while an artist may be able to find a factory in the United States, United Kingdom, or other country with higher labor standards, they may not be able to make enough profit off of the items to make a living selling them.

So what is there left to do?

There are some signs pointing to improving conditions in the Chinese labor market. But, so far, these cases seem to be the exception. Unless things improve in a more permanent, widespread way, are artists just supposed to turn a blind eye to the labor practices that their money is supporting?



We need to make a living. But the idea of making a living as an artist at the cost of human suffering makes me feel ill.

I’ve done my best to make sure all of my merchandise is manufactured stateside – my prints come from New York, my journals are printed in Schaumburg, Illinois, and my wooden charms were handmade by Arcanic Artistry – a company who, at the time, was run out of a garage three miles from my home in Orlando, Florida. But it’s become clear to me that this stance is greatly hindering both my profit margins, as well as the variety of merchandise that I will be able to offer.

There’s an irony to being able to make a living selling products that you designed yourself, but relied on cheap overseas manufacturing to produce. Being a full-time artist means that you don’t have to rely on low-paying, back-breaking labor to make ends meet. You are able to use the skills you’ve cultivated to do work that makes you happy. It’s just a shame if you are only able to do so because someone else, whom you will ever meet or see, is shouldering the burden of the low-paying, back-breaking labor that you managed to avoid.

I’m going to continue digging deep in my search for more ethical, local manufacturing options. If that means that there will never be a single enamel pin in my store, so be it. I feel as though I’ve only scratched the surface of what might be available out there, but I’m willing to keep doing the work.

(If any artists out there have any tips and tricks for finding ethical manufacturers who are willing and able to work with small, independent companies, then feel free to share them below.)

We can do better. We need to do better.