The Myth of the Full-Time Artist

To be a full-time, long-term artist…

it is, without a doubt, the dream of many artists all around the world. But what if it isn’t always the pot of gold that we all think it is? This is a thought I have wrestled with recently, and I wanted to examine the idea that maybe some artists thrive better without the full-time setup.

Before I start, I am by no means a full-time, long-term artist. I would describe my predicament as part time professional artist. I participate in gallery events, I vend my art, I go to galleries, and I network/collaborate often with other artists. I do all the things that are expected of you as a serious artist. Despite this, I’ve been exploring ways I can show up as an artist in this world that isn’t just strictly based on being full-time. 

It all started with conversations I had with other artists. Back in April, I met an artist at a gallery event who had been in the industry for over a decade. They’ve done it all: galleries, murals, independent solo shows, international stuff. To my surprise, they didn’t do it full-time. So, I inquired: why don’t you work full-time, even though you’re as successful as you are? Their answer was quite simple: they made enough money to do it full-time, but it wasn’t right for them. For them, the whole practice felt less about the art and more about how you were going to be able to put food on the table with the art. They worked like this for a long time, up until they decided that this wasn’t the life they wanted. Now they work a different full-time job and do art on the side, which they seemed sincerely happy with.

This whole conversation was a wake-up call and made me see the downsides of this lifestyle. When the creation of art becomes intertwined with our survival, the things that once made it fulfilling can slowly fade out of the spotlight. Deadlines, fighting algorithms, social expectations, and the pressure to stay visible/relevant can slowly reshape the creation of art into something quite hollow and performative rather than exploratory and soul affirming. Yet this insistence on fully monetizing our craft is an idea that many of us are instilled to believe is the only path if you want to be seen as serious.

Alongside these conversations, I reflected on art's place in social media and the idea of being relevant on there. Let's face it: most of us hate making content for our art. It's often an annoying means to an end to sell our work. However, I was browsing through an artist’s page that had over 1 million followers, and I stumbled on one of their posts explaining their process and how much they charge per piece. The art was quite gripping, and the price was well worth the quality and talent. However, in taking a deeper dive in the comment section, the artist revealed that even with a million followers, they don’t always make consistent sales. According to them, it had been over a year since their last sale! I realized very quickly that our perception of social media virality has distorted how we view it's real-life impact on artists. Social media can liberate us from the traditional art systems that held back many in the past. It has the potential for great success, but it's so much more nuanced than strong numbers or being viral.

Through all these experiences, what became clear to me is that making a very stable, consistent living through art sometimes feels like David beating Goliath. But, through unpacking all of this, I finally understood that there are so many ways to be involved with your creative pursuits in a way that is meaningful, impactful, and goes far beyond just your average hobbyist route. 

For example, you can work part-time at a local spot such as a cafe or a bar and do all your art on the side, or you can focus on community-driven art projects while working your full time jobs elsewhere. Art never loses legitimacy just because you aren’t dedicating your entire life to it. It’s like a tree; each branch represents a unique path to take with art. We all fit a certain branch that matches what we truly need to be “happy.” 

That being said, this isn’t meant to dismiss people from shooting for the stars. I believe that there isn’t a limit to this, and if all your ambition says that going all out is what you need, go for it. We only have this once chance to do it, so make the most of it. But still, I find it comforting to know that, no matter what, there is a place for all of us to truly thrive through our art. And we can create the mold that allows us to thrive in the ways we need.