I have an artist friend whose work seems to be everywhere. It is beautiful, thoughtful, interesting. I often wonder how she does it, show after show, with markets and events and so much new work always. Her work evolves and grows—it does not seem stagnant or repetitive to me. She recently said something about coming out of something, implying an illness. She remarked that self-employed artists don’t get paid sick time. Which is true. I don’t know the details of her situation but I have been struggling with this as I ease back into the full-time work life:

how do I continue to take care of myself and work in a sustainable way while being self-employed?

I was house sitting a lot this spring and summer. The best jobs were ones that lasted at least a week. It was a way to begin working without straining my body. It gave me a chance to re-establish some healthy habits . As a bonus, I stayed at a friend’s lake house and went swimming off the dock every sunny day.

When I got home, finally, it had been nearly 2 months and I was exhausted. I wanted to bake bread. I wanted to clean out my closet. I wanted to encourage the tomato started I put in the ground haphazardly before a rainfall between housesits. I thought about making housesitting my job. I love being alone, I like animals, I like being in different parts of the city. But it was stressful to always be leaving. So I put it on hold.

I committed to staying home, for now.

I’m still coming back to California when I can. I am definitely a person who makes a million plans when I am feeling good and then realizes I have over-committed. A friend calls it the difference between sunny day plans and rainy day plans. After a few days of a persistent headache, I sometimes come out of it with the sunny day feeling—I want to do EVERYTHING.

One of the things I signed up for, in a whirlwind of an EVERYTHING day was six months of coaching with Bear Hebert, a friend who has always given good advice. I am slowly moving my business towards supporting me full-time, with their patient help. One step:

I raised the price for all new Keep Writing subscriptions.

There is no way to raise prices for existing subscriptions, which is both frustrating and understandable. I decided to tell my subscribers what I did and why. And then I let them choose. They could cancel their subscriptions and re-subscribe at the new rate, or not. And they did. Not everyone. But a few folks did, and a few folks with lifetime subscriptions volunteered to pay a little every month. It was very sweet and validating.

It is true that I don’t get paid sick days. And I don’t know my artist friend’s situation. I have a financial cushion right now. I am not shaming my freind. The problem is not artists who want to work and live on their work. The problem is capitalism. I have a flexible schedule which means I can take time off whenever I like, but the same work awaits me when I return. I have at least 40 hours of work to do every week. I am continuously building in ways to not overwork, to not burn out, to get paid what I need to be a person who sometimes can’t work. It is a privilege to be able to choose this and it is likely I will be looking for part time work this fall. But I keep taking steps to a better work life. Thank you thank you for supporting that.

If you are a subscriber who is willing and able to pay the new subscription rate here is what to do:

if you pay monthly, and are able, consider cancelling your subscription and re-subscribing at the new rate.

if you pay yearly, and are able, consider cancelling your subscription and re-subscribing at the new rate. Please email me and I will refund any difference for the remainder of your old subscription.

If you are a lifetime subscriber, and you are comfortably able and willing, consider a one time tip or pay $3/month as a family friend. email me and I will help you with the next steps. It is clunky but works.