Heart and Soul (Without the Chopsticks)

How do we, as knitters, as fibre-artists, draw the line between sharing our art and funding it?  Supplementing our income so we can keep creating, without creating just to make money?  I think it's about heart and soul.


(Yes, I added in the latter just so I can quote Billy Joel later on)


Someone sent me a link today:


http://news.blogs.cnn.com/2012/03/09/for-2500-brooklyn-artist-invites-1-to-take-home-complaints-of-the-99/


I read this article and thought, "Sellout."  I didn't just think "Sellout" - I actually typed "Sellout" in a message back to this person, in response to the article.  Inked it, as it were.


Then I came home and re-read a conversation in my facebook message box.


Backstory: Missie liked her wrist warmers.  She liked them so much, she took a picture of herself wearing them and posted it to her page last night.  Then she messaged me to tell me that in the hour after posting the picture, she had gotten messages from three friends asking where they could get some, too.


So what did I do?


I replied:



"Really??? Woweee! I'd be happy to take requests to commission a pair each, to their own specifications, if they're serious.  Based on the time it takes, and the yarn, and price comparisons on etsy I'd probably charge $35 plus shipping ($5.35 for the flat rate box).


And of course I'd have to make you a bonus gift for the referrals!"


Sellout.


But I didn't realize it.  I went to work today and my mind kept flitting to how I would design my business cards and what my logo would look like and what font I'd use and whether anyone had already claimed the business name "Mrs. Pi Knits".


It was only after I got home, sat down to the laptop, was reading some status updates on my newsfeed, clicked on a link to get redirected here, and started reading some of the exchanges between the grammar-ignorant/apathetic and the self-righteous grammar-correcters that it hit me:


Sellout.


I don't know why that prompted my moment of self-discovery.  


(Is that really a word, self-discovery?  It sounds dirty)



I don't know why that prompted my moment of epiphany.


I think I read my response in the voice of the authors featured in the article.  So convinced of my own self-worth that I never stopped to consider the implication of my words.  "Oh, really?  Your friends like my work?  Of course they do.  Here's my paypal account and they can buy some."


Did I say, "I'm honored that they liked them!"  Did I thank Missie for sharing that with me?  Did I stop to appreciate the fact that I've been twice-blessed: both with a gift and the recognition of that gift by others?  No.  I jumped right into commoditization without hesitation, with both symbolic feet.


Both feet, neither heart nor soul.


I'm not saying there's anything wrong with making money.  I'm not even saying we shouldn't make money from our creations.  But I have always felt something spiritual about knitting.  About creating.  About being given the ability to create something beautiful.  It's what I say I find most satisfying - remember that post about the Knitting Faerie?  About gifts?


I haven't had many moments when I was genuinely disappointed in myself.  Ok, yes, so there have been times when a conversation or project or endeavor didn't go as planned, and I felt defeated.  But disappointment is different.  I failed to meet my own moral standard.  I was so quick to race past the things I claim are most important for me.  


"It's all about soul.  It's all about faith and a deeper devotion.  It's all about soul, 'cause under the love is a stronger emotion..."


And how many more times have I done the same - sold my soul - without revelation of it?


Mrs. Pi