In later blogs I will touch on subjects as lowbrow and exciting as Wrestlemania and as highbrow and unexciting as my lack of blogging, but I’m afraid all this will have to wait until after I explode a little on the subject of art.
This has been a long time coming.
Ok.
If a 10 year old cuts your yard. You would feel guilty if you didn’t pay him.
If someone paints house you pay them or at least feel the urge to do something nice for him.
At the very least, you acknowledge that it’s work done for you and that there should be an appreciation of the work the other person put into it.
If I LOVED to wash cars, I’m sure you’d still feel a little obliged to invite me in for lunch after I washed yours.
Hell, we even pay prisoners to stamp license plate.
So why, WHY, do people assume that I will draw/paint/design/sculpt/tattoo them like it’s my damed honor to do so?!?!?
Yesterday I designed 2 entire restaurant menus in the time span of about 8 hours, which is REMARKABLY fast, and not to brag, but the thing looks great for making something out of nothing in 8 hours all the while compensating for the lack of communication skills of my client…or that is it WOULD’VE looked great if he didn’t decide to completely change everything around along the way.
Whatever, another portfolio piece flushed due to a client paying me for my advice and not taking it.
When it’s done and it’s time to pay the pigtailed piper, my client tells me through his broken Engrish …yes I said Engrish…that he thought my design work was free. Which is a codswalloping LIE because I tell EVERYONE about my set up charges and if I work for you for 8 hours then you’ll pay for 8 god-forsaken hours. Even if I didn’t tell you, wouldn’t you think it to be a given to at least offer a thank you in the form of a meal at your doomed little restaurant?
Nope, they just assumed that I designed that menu because I had nothing better to do but cater to his every design wish, and changing my design completely along the way. Turning what was a great menu into a mediocre menu because everyone thinks that they are a designer/artist.
I hope you turn into a pillar of salt if you believe that.
I didn’t go to school to be a teacher and even though I have taught private art classes, I don’t call myself a teacher. I have cut grass but I’m not a landscaper. I’ve been in fistfights but I’m not a fighter. I drink but I’m not an alcoholic…but if this shit continues I just might decide to change professions and town drunk is looking pretty good!
But don’t think that one incident has turned me into a curmudgeonly pile of Griff. This sheep-shit tactic happens EVERY DAY!
From classic hits like, “Hey man, can I get you to do my business cards.” To the time tested, “Dude draw me a monkey!” To my personal favorite, “Hey Griff I want a tattoo of a skull with a snake coming out of it’s eye, on fire, dagger going through it, with the Tasmanian Devil driving a go kart over it, wearing a confederate hat, and the General Lee jumping over all of it! WHADDAYA SAY BROTHER?!?!?!”
… that isn’t my work btw.
Look, I’m not unreasonably snobby. It’s not all about the money, despite what P. Diddy says. It’s about the respect. People are quick to tell me that I can do something and it’ll be easy. Well then you freekin do it! All it takes is, “Hey if you draw me that monkey, I’ll make you a cake!” or something to that effect. HELL ANYTHING! Yes cash is always best but I’m not one to snub sexual favors either.
You know, whatever you have lying around. ;)
The bottom line is this. You won’t find a doctor to cast your arm out of the kindness of his heart. Don’t ask me to design you a tee-shirt just because you feel that I “love to do it”.
Bottom line.
It hurts my feelings.
:(
THEIR! I SAID IT! I’m a sensitive- artist-crybaby-overgrown-emo kid!
But dammit! After 7 years of school I like to think that I’ve earned the respect enough to at least have people pay for my work with dessert or fireworks or something!
After all the time I’ve spent over a drawing table or in front of a Mac, or tattooing a pig ear I feel that even though I may not be the greatest, I’m at least respect worthy.
Just like your gardener, doctor, plumber, mechanic, cable repair man, florist, mortician, ferrier, airplane pilot, insurance salesman…FOR GOD SAKE GIVE ME THE SAME COURTESY YOU GIVE YOUR INSURANCE SALESMAN!!!!
Look, I do little art related things for my friends all the time, and as long as I know it’s appreciated, I have absolutely no beef with it. Yes, I have drawn monkeys, and photoshopped prom dates out of pictures, and removed blemishes from your son’s crappy yearbook photo and as long as I know you’d be happy to return the favor for me in your own way sometime and I know you respect what I do then it’s all gravy baby.
But to all you mouth-breathers that happen to see me in Wal-Mart once every 2 years and decide that I could easily tattoo a seven headed dragon fighting the god of death on your boyfriend’s deltoid, free of charge of course, you can get an infection in whatever crevice you choose.
So this is my return blog.
Long live the King.
Posts
