Back in the late 2000s, when I was working as a website administrator, I frequently lamented to anyone who would listen that my day job was the reason why I couldn’t make art.
If only I had the time! If only I had the energy!
If being creative was my full-time job, then I would be able to make so much art. I would do all these creative projects like illustration and animation, and my life would be amazing 24/7.
So, when my web admin job started to naturally wrap up, I took my savings and struck out as a freelancer in 2011.
Initially, it was great… and then very quickly, it wasn’t. I ended up running back to a salaried job in October 2012.
Here’s what they don’t tell you about that creativity fantasy…
You are a business first and a creative second
Do you want to be a bookkeeper? A sales rep? A champion networker? A website admin? A social media influencer?
No? Because these are all roles that you will absolutely have to take on when you make creativity your full-time job.
You also need to be great at all of them immediately after you strike out on your own.
Both of my parents were self-employed for their entire careers, so I had some familiarity with what it took to run a business. That said, I was shocked in that first year as a freelancer by how much of my day I spent doing the administrative side of my business and hustling for clients.
I loved the freedom of being my own boss and setting my own schedule, but I quickly realized that I was a much harsher taskmaster than any boss I’d ever had. I knew I had to be if I was going to survive.
Your creativity changes when you ask it to put bread on the table
The myth of the creative day job is that we believe that we will have more creative freedom once we are in charge of our days. The reality is that we tend to have less—far less—because we suddenly find ourselves hyper-fixated on which acts of creativity will generate income.
I see this all the time with people fretting continuously over the number of followers they have, how changes in the Instagram algorithm have hurt their business or how they’ve made no sales in however many months in their Etsy shop.
Should they maybe crochet holiday ornaments?
Should they stop writing poetry and write short fiction instead?
Should they paint landscapes instead of abstract art?
There is nothing wrong with being business savvy however, I wince anytime I come across something like this.
The creative work that you are drawn to—the one that generates the most curiosity and delight—may not be something that immediately resonates with an audience. This could be because you haven’t sufficiently developed your creative voice or your skills. It could also be because you haven’t found your audience yet. These things take time, and if you are constantly chasing whatever trend or thing that might make you money, then you will always be chasing.
You will also likely be making work that doesn’t bring you nearly as much joy or satisfaction.
But to yell at your creativity, saying, “You must earn money for me!” is sort of like yelling at a cat; it has no idea what you’re talking about, and all you’re doing is scaring it away, because you’re making really loud noises and your face looks weird when you do that.
~ Elizabeth Gilbert, Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear
You will not have as much time for your creative work as you imagine
I thought when I left my web admin job that I would use my web skills to tide me over financially while I developed my portfolio as an illustrator and animator. The most disheartening aspect of my year as a freelancer was that I spent virtually all my time building websites or finding people that I could build websites for. After all, this was the work that people would pay me to do.
I was stuck in the same cycle of not having the time or the energy to do my creative work.
For me, the tipping point came when my power wheelchair’s motors broke down. I was extraordinarily lucky that they died just days before the warranty period. If I’d had to pay out of pocket, I would’ve taken a substantial hit to my savings just to repair them.
It was a reality check. I had to take a hard look at my life as a supposed “full-time creative” and ask if I was getting to do the work I wanted to do.
Was there another way?
How my day job set my creative voice free
When I took that salaried role in web development back in the fall of 2012, I did feel like a failure. I had tried to live the dream and I’d fallen flat on my face.
So, when I decided to take that job, I made a promise to myself. If I were going to have a 9-to-5 job, then I would devote my energy outside my day job to developing my creative voice. I very deliberately dropped all of my freelance clients, even the ones that might have been considered “easy money.” I was also very protective of my downtime and pushed back relentlessly with my employer to ensure that my day job stayed strictly 9-to-5.
I had to say “no” to a lot of things, but I did it in service of saying “yes” to what was important to me.
Van Gogh famously didn’t sell a single painting in his lifetime, but he had that freedom because his brother, Theodore, was his patron. Through my day job, I became my own patron, and that gave me the freedom to finally develop my creative voice.
It was in this period, from 2012 onwards, that I used that time outside my 9-to-5 to discover my passion for acrylic painting. I would allow myself to fall down Pinterest rabbit holes and discovered my love for painting the look of stained glass. I played around with social media, teaching myself the ropes without the pressure of needing followers or making sales. I learned to apply to group art shows and about how I wanted to describe my art to others.
I allowed myself to play, and because my experiments didn’t require a particular outcome, my creative drive skyrocketed.
I made my art… which was the thing I wasn’t doing when I supposedly living the creative dream.
In the end, it took almost a decade of steady, behind-the-scenes work before I felt ready to strike out again as a full-time creative.
It’s important to acknowledge that I didn’t have to. For your creative journey, you could continue to pursue your work in parallel with your day job indefinitely.
For myself and my goals, it was the right time.
Regardless, I still held tight to the lessons that I learned when my day job was my patron. When I realized how important it was to my creative voice to make art about my perspective as a person with a disability, rather than trying to make my art more palatable to the masses, I doubled down and found an audience that wanted the art that I wanted to make. If I hadn’t done that, I would never have had my solo art exhibit this past summer or been offered to illustrate a children’s book about a kid in a wheelchair.
Something to ponder the next time you’re looking for a balance between your day job and your creativity.
Athena is currently on medical leave from creativity coaching with Tilted Windmills while she heals in hospital, but hopes to be back to coaching in 2025. You can read about her ongoing rehab journey in Athena’s Art Newsletter.
One hundred percent this. I knit and knit well. People tell me that I could sell my things but I push back. It steals my creativity and love for the medium when people tell me it costs too much or doesn’t look like their vision or any other monetized iteration where my enjoyment is ruined. So I don’t. I knit for the pleasure of creating something out of a piece of string (or an expensive, woollen version of string) I appreciate your words so much.