Floor Time
/flôr tīm/
noun
the 15-60 minute time period spent laying on the floor in the middle of the work day, typically as a relief from the soul-sucking reality of corporate America.
Loyal Floor Timers and chronically online people will have seen the Colbert “Meanwhile” segment referencing this article. Hundreds1 of you sent this over—good lookin’ out, fam—and it reminded me that it’s been a while since I’ve checked in with new readers regarding the impetus for this newsletter.
So hello, gentle (new) readers! I started writing Floor Time over two years ago because I had so many ideas buzzing around at all times of the day (thank you ADHD) and I simply wanted a place to put them. Also, I’ll say it—it felt like the less douche-y version of starting a podcast. Meanwhile, I noticed that for at least 15 minutes a day I was lying on the floor to reset / decompress / laugh / cry—a product of working from the comforts of my own home. I figured, if I’m doing this, surely others might be too, right? And perhaps they need something to keep them company while they’re down there?
Floor Time was born from my own truths: I get overwhelmed, I need grounding, and I want to make it ok to take breaks and step away from the work both physically and mentally. From the feedback I’ve received from you lovely readers over these years, I know that rest and distraction are things we all crave. So if you’re here, thank you. And if you think someone else might want to be here too, might I suggest this be the week when you share Floor Time with a friend?? Nudge, nudge.
This week I want to talk to you about pricing. I could write a looong soliloquy about pricing as an artist / freelancer, but I have Bridgerton to watch, so I will offer you the abridged version instead.
Exciting things are happening on my end (we hope, we think). I spent the past couple months building my own brand for once—treating myself as the client and setting deadlines I actually hit. I completely redesigned my website, updated my resume, created a new logo (or rather, a Clo-go), and dusted off my networking chops that haven’t been touched since Covid. It’s been a tough go waiting to see the fruits of my labor, because I’m impatient. In the time between being super excited about animations on my website and hand-lettering a logo that feels like me, I also went through many sleepless nights of self-doubt, imposter syndrome, and the crippling anxiety that I am not hirable and lack any useful skill. Hello darkness, my old friend.
But this week, we started to have some motion. Some people I networked with came back with ideas for new projects (and please keep doing so 😊). I chatted with some awesome humans I may want to work with. It seems that things can start ramping up again. And then, inevitably, we move on to the talk of rates and compensation—something I’m admittedly rusty on. For instance, when one of these prospective clients asked me about my hourly rate, I offered them a rate far below the same rate I’ve had for 2 years. What on earth compelled me to say that?? Nerves, perhaps. Fear, most likely.
Another prospective client presented a project with a handful of deliverables and the budget that would cover perhaps one of them. While I totally understand that art is difficult to price, budgets can vary from client to client, and rates are based on a variety of factors (hence, the hair-pulling task that is pricing your work), research is so important here. On the client end, it’s nice to present a budget that feels fair. For me, it shows that they understand the amount of time, skill, and creative energy projects take. And on the artist end, it’s important to be reminded that our creativity and our skill has value.
My first big commission ever happened back in 2018. I remember asking the art director at my job if the rate I was thinking was fair—I kept uncomfortably saying, “I don’t want to overprice and scare them off!” She gave me advice that I replay literally every time I need to give rates to a client. She said that underselling creative work is not only harmful to myself, but harmful to the industry. It means I partake in undervaluing my peers, all who have worked so hard to develop their talents and do this work. Whenever people who are trying to get into design or illustration ask me about pricing—I tell them this. Remember this. We’re all in this together!!
Goodness I really could talk about pricing forever. The final thing I’ll add, because I really want to know how Colin loses his sh*t over Lady Whistledown, is that I have seen the industry change and grow exponentially since I first got into it (admittedly, a byproduct of TikTok). Creatives offer courses to help one another, and in general I feel like there are less “secrets.” Sometimes if I get an inquiry about a creative project I don’t usually do (e.g. designing a custom greeting card), I’ll look at other artists who specialize in that kind of work and see what they charge. That way, I make sure I’m meeting the industry standard, not undercutting other artists in a harmful way, and perhaps most importantly, reminding myself that I have put in my hours to get to where I am, and those who recognize that will compensate me fairly for my time and talent.
A couple additional readings:
Another rent-free piece of creative advice is the famous Paula Scher line. She said this after drawing the new $1.5M Citibank logo on a cocktail napkin, “It took me a few seconds to draw it, but it took me 34 years to learn how to draw it in a few seconds.” Those 34 years, the big part of the iceberg you don’t see, are what they’re paying for. That’s what you’re worth.
I bought this pricing guide by Jessica Hische early on in my business—one of the most useful tools I have in my arsenal as a freelancer.
Something I Thought of in the Shower
🎶 Heartbreak is one thing, my ego’s another, 🤠I pray you don’t embarrass me motherf*****🤠🎶
Something Pretty
California flexin’.
Something To Laugh About
Here are this week’s gems:
I love that underneath it all, we’re actually all the same weirdo doing this at home.
You know what, and he’s so right about this. It seems like nobody wants to get off their ass and [hear the ocean] these days.
JetBlue will be hearing from my lawyers about this. Because how could they.
Oh, to be this pupper at a baseball game in summer.
The way in which I built my fyp from the ground up to get content like this.
This is disappointing.
This is what I meant by my shower thought, by the way.
Redefining “laugh” in that this man you may remember from the panDemi Moore is getting the last one. Good for you, sir.
Something for Clarice
Hey! This newsletter is free and I intend to keep it that way. That said, if you love it and want to show your appreciation, buy me a coffee :)
By the way…I’m reading this.
I’m kinda in that mood where I don’t know what to read next—but Lizzie shared Real Americans with me and I might give that a go this weekend.
And I’m watching this.
It’s Bridgerton season 3, part 2, obv.
I’m traveling this weekend into the next for another wedding (we really on the circuit) so I won’t have a newsletter for you next Friday—looking forward to checking back in at the end of the month!
Til’ next time, members of the ton. Your friend,
Clarice
read: six. it was six of you.