When I sold this Little Bee, I talked up the glass I use, how crystal clear it is. Yes, it has glass. I wrapped up the painting and handed it over. Confident.

When I got an email the next day from the patron asking why there was no glass in the frame, I couldn’t fathom that she was being honest. My brain went everywhere to figure out this weird situation. I did not believe that there was no glass in that frame. Did not believe her.

We made a plan for me to pick up the piece and add glass (yeah right, I thought, it has glass). Weeks went by before I picked up the art. I was sick, I had to travel, it wasn’t a priority to me because I was confident. When I finally went to pick up the piece, I immediately reached into the bag and tapped on the glass, expecting to hear that telltale “click”.

There was no glass.

Of course there was no glass. It would be an unlikely story for this art patron to make up that her purchase had no glass.

When I got to my studio, I investigated. I had done everything I normally do to frame my pastel paintings — but I had left out the glass. It made no sense, but there was the truth. It was absolutely my mistake.

I ordered more glass cut to the right size, I touched up the painting. It took a month to get the glass. My art patron was so patient, so understanding. I reframed the painting (triple checking that the glass was in there: tap, tap, tap) and delivered it to its home. I handed over the Little Bee, along with an apology gift of a needle-felted turtle and asked for grace. She smiled at me and said she knew she’d get it back eventually.

​
I still don’t understand how I made that mistake. But I learned a valuable life lesson: You might be wrong.

This year, one of my goals is to open up about the business side of making and selling art. In my previous post, I revealed the true cost of art when it comes to selling at art festivals. In this post, I answer questions about retail price and the value of art.

I am not a pricing expert; I'm an artist who struggles with pricing. I feel that I'm constantly reevaluating and adjusting my prices. Price and value are difficult and this post addresses what I've learned so far. I always have more to learn.

​How is retail price calculated?
A traditional formula for calculating retail price is:
Costs of labor + cost of materials + business costs/overhead = Wholesale Price
2 x Wholesale = Retail Price
​

​What makes pricing art different?
A traditional formula like the one above is derived from manufacturing industries where there are high volumes of "widgets" being produced. In contrast, the very nature of art is that it is one-of-a-kind.

​Pricing art using a traditional formula doesn’t work well because the value of art is subjective. Basically, the list price is what an artist hopes someone will pay. But, the truth of the matter is that some art never finds a buyer. An artworks’ value is only determined once an artwork has found a buyer. ​When an artist and buyer agree upon a sale price, that is when its value is determined.

How do you calculate the retail price of your art?
Despite the difficulties of retail price versus value, we still have to start somewhere! Here is a simplified version of the pricing structure that I use to determine the retail price of my art:

​Why is the Retail Price so high?
In an art gallery setting, when/if an artwork is sold, the gallery takes half of the sale. In essence, the artist is paid their “wholesale price” for the art.
 
An art gallery takes half of the sale?!
It may sound like a lot, but an art gallery has its own costs and overheads (rent, employees, etc.) to pay and it needs to make money in order to stay in business. Just like an artist, the only way a gallery makes money is by selling art!

An artist may choose to sell their art without a gallery, but these settings come with a cost as well (for example, see the costs associated with selling at art festivals in my previous post). Selling art at retail price regardless of setting allows these costs to be recouped.
​

I had good reason to expect that the two festivals I got into to would be decent shows for me. I did my research on both events and I heard great things. But I'm not naïve, I know that doing any art show - especially if it includes large travel expenses - is a huge gamble. But I figured that if I could double the amount of sales I made at one show last year, it would be worth it. 

Unfortunately, the end result of this experience has left me not only in debt, but also questioning my art. I've decided to share the true cost of selling my art at these shows. This is not an easy decision; I know that people unwittingly prefer to support winners and I could lose sales over this. I usually try to be as upbeat as possible about my art career in public. But I'm not sure it can get much worse; this week I definitely feel like the loser in Beck's song.

It's hard to imagine all of the time the entire art-festival-going process takes. Usually I try not to think about it since none of it is paid time. But, in an effort to be transparent, here's a look at some of the time I put into doing these two art festivals. 

1. The time I spent creating the art. This really can't be measured. Years, months, days, hours...
2. The time spent driving to and from the art festivals: 52 hours.
3. The time I spent setting up my tent and art display. This takes about 4-6 hours each time.
4. The hours that the art festivals are open to the public. The two-day show was a total of 15 hours. The three-day show was a total of 23 hours.
5. All of the time I spent taking down my display and tent. This takes about 3 hours each time.
6. All of the time it takes to run a business. Seriously, I don't even know how to measure this. I guess the best I can say is that I spend several hours on my business every single day. This is separate from making art.

Total hours put into the festivals (does not include making the art!) = 108 hours

"Okay," you're probably saying, "but how much money did you make?!" 

Here is the dismal truth...
​
Show one: $698.00 in sales 
Show two: $2,323.00 in sales

Total after expenses =  -$3,290.00

This result is extremely embarrassing to share. Sure, there are places I could have cut costs. I could have slept in the cheapest (worst) hotels available. I could have driven through the night (dangerous and stressful). I could have done the second show without my husband's help (no lunch or bathroom breaks and no support) and saved on his airfare. But regardless of expenses, the amount I made in sales wasn't worth it.

Where do I go from here? I don't know. I have more questions than answers.

​Is it me? Does my art suck? Should I get a "real" job? If so, what makes something a "real" job? Maybe it's not me, maybe it's the economy? Perhaps people are too worried about inflation? Do people ever spend money on art? Do any artists make money at art fairs? Maybe it's my medium? Perhaps people aren't interested in purchasing textile art? And around again: Is it me?

Who knows. All I know is that I can't NOT make art. (I've tried to stop.) So despite the huge emotional toll all of this puts on me, I'm already planning for my next art festival.