Joy Is The Compensation
Joy Is The Compensation
Or sometimes it's a warm pair of handmade Scandi-inspired mittens
On Tuesday afternoon, I carried my laptop outside to the temporary folding table set up in our backyard. I have plans to build a proper dining table this summer, among other things. Kona joined me out back, chomping grass and digging holes when I wasn’t looking. Pushing 70 degrees, a sweater was my warmest layer. Soft white petals from the neighbor’s tree fluttered down around me, like spring snow. This, I thought—this was bliss. When I quit my office job more than four years ago, this was what I wanted working from home to look like, at least on warm days. Of course, the universe had other plans. A pandemic, grad school for Steve, apartments without backyards. Working from home wasn’t as much of a luxury as it was a necessity. But this week, it felt like the former. Luxurious to sit in the sun with a cold can of seltzer in a backyard of my own. Luxurious to watch my dog roll in the grass. Luxurious despite working on revisions for a story I’m ready to be done with. Luxurious even though I’m stressed about my pitches not getting picked up.
I’ve been thinking about how frustrating it is that I’m reliant on other people to assign and accept my art, to give me permission and incentive to go for it. Because of that, it’s really easy for me to lose momentum. The early excitement and energy for a story fades as time goes on and I don’t hear back from editors. I get tired from gripping so tightly that I let the crumbs of motivation slip out of my hands. Sometimes I resent that my art is my livelihood. At the same time, I feel grateful. To write for a living, for a career, is an absolute privilege.
Something that kept me motivated these past few months was a collaboration with my sweet friend and the talented artist, Latasha Greene. Back in January, she posted a photo of a pair of hand-knit mittens on Instagram. Cobalt blue with an intricate pattern of white snowflakes, evoking cozy Norwegian Christmas. Tasha illustrates vibrant and playful nature scenes, filled with botanicals and deep greens and Black joy. I’m lucky enough to have a few of her pieces.
But the mittens. I couldn’t stop thinking about those mittens. Knitting and textiles are a newer creative practice for Tasha, and I know personally how monetizing hobbies can be draining, so instead I asked her: Would she be willing to make me a pair in exchange for a handmade garment? A skills swap of sewing for knitting, knitting for sewing. She agreed, and after exchanging measurements and color preferences, we began constructing.
Unlike my work as a writer, nobody gives me permission to sew. I sew during the workday, I sew on weekends. I do it when I want, and I choose when to share it with others. I spent all of February working on Tasha’s blouse—a dreamy and floaty tie top made out of a terra cotta cotton organza—while she knit my pink and red mittens together. Work got busy for both of us, and then when it calmed down, I returned to sewing to assemble the ties one weekend and then the sleeves the next. Then I ran out of matching thread. And then one day, it was finished. (Tasha made a video of our swap, which I’ll include below.)
Every hour I put into the piece was pure love. Love for my friend, love for the process, love for myself. Paid or not, I’ll find a way to make art anyway. Maybe the compensation for making my art doesn’t always have to be money or acceptance or a new byline, but joy and connection and generosity. That’s the motivation.
With love,
Latest Stories
For Field Mag, I wrote about how to sew your own chore coat. I detail every step and include photos, but you’ll probably still need to watch some videos if you’re wanting to full DIY (linked). Send me pictures if you do!!!
In lieu of new work, here’s my sad pitch-to-acceptance rate in March. Pitches: 13. Accepted: 0. Maybe: 11. Rejected: 2. No response: 10.
April Mood
Monthly Shareables
Reading: Before the Coffee Gets Cold by Toshikazu Kawaguchi is a cozy little read that I started in March and have yet to finish. It was highly recommended by multiple sources, and so far, I’m loving the magic and mystery.
In a totally different genre, my friend
published a harrowing personal essay about her near death experience in Longreads this past week. It’s captivating and emotional, and the pacing kept me on the edge of my seat.Making: This past month was a productive one for sewing. In addition to Tasha’s shirt, I made the Zero Waste Tee and Zero Waste Shirt Dress patterns from Birgitta Helmersson, the Pipit Vest (pictured), and the Anthea Blouse. I also pattern tested the coming soon Blake Skirt by Jessica Capalbo and IT IS GOOD.
Tasting: Algae Cooking Club is a new algae-based cooking oil brand, and they sent me some samples to try. I’ve used it in place of olive oil for the past month. It tastes a little buttery, and maintains its flavor at a higher smoke point—aka no overpowering burnt flavor when you want a little char char on the veggies.
Baking: I made the first key lime pie of the year for a dinner party last weekend, and it was so tasty that everyone went back for seconds.
Wearing: The perfect cropped wide leg denim, including as I write this
Listening: I dipped a toe into the Articles of Interest podcast, a journalistic exploration of what we wear. I started with the Chromophobia episode and found myself jotting down notes the whole time for further research. I recommend it!
The maybe later turned into a rejection lol
As you know, I totally sympathize with your sad pitch-to-acceptance rate ... I had this 1 pitch that I've pitched to SIX different publications since November, only to be ghosted by all but the last one (so yeah! assignment!). It is demoralizing nonetheless.
And to your point of trying to balance the enjoyment of writing to the fact that it's your livelihood, I also empathize. I think this is the reason I've kept my good-old-fashioned blog without monetizing it since 2008. It's the only place where I can write what I want when I want! There are no expectations, and that feels freeing.