All About Me, Part 1

In an attempt to be less haphazard about describing my process of starting Odd Bird Studio, future posts will cover what I’ve done up until this point. For now, a little background information about me, how I envision Odd Bird Studio, why I reject traditional business plans, and a word about finances. As far as I’m concerned, there’s not enough candid information about how people make ends meet out there. I recently went to an artist’s talk by Kyle Durrie. She told us about how she got from art school to where she is today (she makes super fun letterpress items, check out her blog and site) and what she did to pay for it. Since emulation is the sincerest form of flattery (or it’s downright creepy, depending on how it’s done), let’s get on with it. I promise I won’t be creepy.

Before we jump in, let me just say that I am frugal. How I’ve paid my way won’t work for everyone. For example, until I entered grad school in 2001, I never carried any credit card debt. Which isn’t to say I didn’t use plastic. I just didn’t purchase anything with my cards unless I had the cash to pay for it. All bills paid in full every month. I genuinely prefer to buy used items over new. Other than books and art supplies, I don’t buy all that much stuff.  CORRECTION: My beer budget is generous. And I’m vegetarian which means my food costs are pretty low (– until recently. What’s with food prices? Looking forward to buying a house and turning the yard into our food supply.) Among my less frugal decisions are that I chose to live alone until I met my husband in 2006. I could have saved a lot of money by having a roommate. Also, I always work for small businesses, which means no benefits. Paying for health insurance and retirement savings were entirely out of pocket until this past August when the husband got affordable health insurance for both of us through his new employer.  Plus he’s participating in a pension plan and when we leg a leg up on our finances we will participate in an employer matched 403(b) plan (it’s what they call a 401(k) in the non-profit sector).

I am a traditionally trained artist. See?

Self portrait making a self portrait, aged 5, accompanying text reads, "What I want to be when I grow up: an artist." From the collaborative book All About Me, my kindergarten teacher asked a set list of questions, wrote the questions and my answers, more or less, on each page of the book, then I illustrated it.

I have a BFA in photography from Rhode Island School of Design. Pre-digital. I am a film and darkroom loving girl. Nearing graduation, I attempted to find a financially viable job using photography. No surprise this plan didn’t pan out. I’m an artist, not a commercial photographer. I don’t do portraits of any kind and, my strong opinions about journalism aside, my manual camera wasn’t going to cut it in the world of newspaper photography. Financial note: I was lucky to not have any debt from college. I found a job in my hometown at a small silkscreening business. The pay wasn’t enough to live on my own, so I lived at home.

After two years at home, some of which was spent taking pre-requisite college calculus and statistics classes thinking I would go to grad school to earn a degree in a practical application of the arts (arts management, we come back to this later), I upped and moved to Pittsburgh, PA. No job and didn’t know a soul, but I liked the city and I needed a change.  Financial note: The cost of living in Pittsburgh is ridiculously low. This was 1997. I think I had enough money saved to cover my expenses for about 3 months. Had I lived with roommates, it would have stretched longer.

Like many others, I worked in a bar by night and made art by day.  I found a job within 2 weeks of moving to Pittsburgh. My hours varied somewhat, but I had a minimum of 37 hours a week with upwards of 60 hours some weeks. It took longer to get back into making art, about a year. I do color photography. Not the kind of darkroom and processing you can rig up temporarily in your bathroom or closet. A friend told me about Pittsburgh Filmmakers. They offer annual memberships that allow access to their facilities. Again, ridiculously low price for unlimited color darkroom access. They have since changed their structure, but I only paid $275/yr for unlimited darkroom time - $275 would buy 15-20 hours of color darkroom time in Boston or New York. Financial note: I made a boatload of money at the bar. It easily covered my living costs, art making costs, health insurance (which started at less than $100/mo, within 4 years it tripled, I cancelled it as soon as I could), and left plenty for travel, savings and starting a couple of IRAs, which I did at age 25.

This worked out really well until I got burned out with the bar. The money and the hours can be great, but all the bullshit is draining. I left the bar to work for a non-profit photography gallery. I felt like I needed to get back into the professional side of the arts. HUGE pay cut, not only was my hourly earning cut in half, so were my hours. I was paid for a maximum of 20 hours a week at the gallery, but I had so much saved up this wasn’t going to be a problem for at least 6 months. Only I decided to go ahead with the grad school idea at the same time as changing jobs. Not the wisest financial move. Even with a $26,000/yr scholarship, 2 years of grad school, low paying part-time work, an entire summer of unemployment upon graduation, and a couple of other expensive decisions landed me with $40,000 in student loans and, I’m trying to remember, maybe about $10,000 in credit card debt.