"I'm Broke, But Can You Make Me a Masterpiece?"

Why custom art isn’t free just because the tools got faster

So, let me paint you a picture.

You’re an artist, illustrator, or other visual content creator who’s incorporated AI into your workflow at some point. One day, you open up Facebook, Instagram, TicketyTok, or wherever it is you go online when you feel like sharing some of your renders.

There’s a message request waiting there for you.

Maybe it’s from someone you know in passing. Could be from someone you’ve never met who stumbled across something you made at random. Either way, they’re reaching out in search of custom artwork for a CD cover, a tattoo design, or maybe just a gift for a friend.

And while they admit they’re broke and don’t have a lot of money to throw around, they’re hoping that maybe — just maybe — you can help them out. Cheaply.

Cue the sigh. Cue the eye rub. Cue the immediate inner monologue of, “Do I even have the bandwidth for this? Because I know how this usually goes…”

Spoiler: It goes like this more often than not. And yet… I might still say yes.

Let’s talk about it.

The Opening Line Every Artist Knows by Heart

“I don’t have much money, but…”

I have heard this exact sentence — verbatim — dozens upon dozens of times over the years. It’s basically the universal handshake of freelance digital artists, especially those of us who dabble in AI or otherwise use digital tools to bring our visions to life.

It’s never malicious. It’s not even always entitled. A lot of the time, it’s just how people are used to opening the door. They lead with scarcity, with apology, and with the hope that you’ll either:

• Feel bad for them and cut your rate, or…
• Be so balls-out passionate about art that you’ll do it for free because you love making art just that damn much

But here’s the thing. I do love making art. A lot. Always have and almost certainly always will. And that’s exactly why I don’t just give the things I make away for a fart and a song.

What We Really Give When We Create

When you first start sharing any sort of art online, it's never long before you start feeling... pressure. It doesn’t matter whether you’re posting paintings, poems, AI renders, divination spreads, or half-baked shower thoughts. The moment people like what you do — really like it — you’re expected to become something else entirely.

Not just talented and not just interesting, because those things are usually a given. I'm talking about the way you're expected to be nice, and accommodating, and limitlessly friendly.

And not just ordinary nice, either. I’m talking next-level, saint-tier niceness –– generous with your process, endlessly accessible, visibly and giddily grateful at all times. Ideally, you’re supposed to come off like some magical art fairy who somehow creates these deeply personal, emotionally resonant pieces and has the time and desire to walk every stranger through the mechanics of how it's done.

And if you don’t? Well. Brace yourself for side-eyes, subtle guilt-tripping, and a few thinly veiled posts in your feed about how some creators are “too full of themselves to help others anymore.” But here’s the truth. That sort of entitlement makes me deeply uncomfortable, so you're not alone if that's the way it makes you feel, too. I also don’t owe anyone that kind of access, and neither do you. 

The Myth of the Nice Artist

Somewhere along the way, we all seem to absorb this myth that a “good” creator is also a public servant with zero boundaries. They’re supposed to be constantly open to questions, full of encouragement, and ready to hand over their creative secrets to absolutely anyone just because someone asked nicely. Especially in online communities, especially if you're a woman, especially if your work carries any spiritual or emotional weight.

You’re expected to smile, nod, and say “thank you” even when someone’s hovering way too close, asking to peek into your sketchbook, or low-key hinting that they want your source files. (For free, of course.) And if you don’t play along? You’re “standoffish.” “Difficult.” “Ungrateful.” Or worse, “elitist.” 

I've heard all of those a time or three over the years, and worse. But here’s the catch. The people who honestly have the nerve to say things like that to you, all while claiming to love and respect your work? They’re not your audience. They’re consumers. And there’s a difference.

What I Make When I'm Not Trying to Impress Anyone

At dinner last night, Seth and I had one of those conversations that really linger. The kind where you find yourself still turning it over in your mind the next day, like a stone you can’t stop touching. 

We were talking about creativity, specifically how freeing it can feel to create outside of the intention to impress anyone else. Not your audience. Not your peers. Not even yourself, but simply for its own sake. It reminded me of what it was like to be a kid, long before I knew a damn thing about coolness, trends, or social media algorithms. 

I didn’t wonder whether something I wanted to make was worth my time or care whether I had permission from the right people to do it in the first place. I just made things. And then sometimes I showed them to other people with unshakeable pride, never even considering that they might not think it was any good.

Bad poetry. Weird Lincoln Log creations. Silly stories about my toys that almost certainly contained way too many references to farts and burps. A set of homemade mini-books about my family and friends, hand-illustrated and lovingly "bound" with construction paper and staples. They were definitely the creations of a little kid still figuring life out. And they were glorious.

Naturally, I wouldn't submit a childhood story full of fart jokes to a literary journal today or expect an award for the god-awful poem I wrote about my purple digital bedside clock when I was ten years old. But those creations still stick in my mind today because of the sheer creative joy I felt while making them. 

Somewhere along the way, most of us lose that. And that's a real shame.

How the Fear Creeps In

As children, most of us are just like I used to be –– energetic, bright-eyed little people who create simply because it feels good. Or because we have something to express and don’t yet know how to hold it in (or see why we should try). If an adult liked what we made, it was a bonus. But it was never the point.

Then adolescence arrives with its comparisons and self-consciousness. Later, adulthood adds even more pressure to the whole sordid mess. Can this make money? Is this good enough to share? Am I still relevant? Why even bother when the internet is already littered with other people's art, essays, songs, and opinions?

The impulse to create gets all tangled up in the desire to matter. Before we know it, we've become people who need our work to be beautiful, interesting, and true, but also seen. Liked. Heartily approved of. Maybe even purchased. And while none of those desires are inherently wrong, they can easily crowd out the spark that made someone want to create in the first place.

8 Questions Every Creative Should Ask Themselves at Least Once a Year

Creative pursuits like writing, art, or music aren't just things we do. For a lot of us, creativity is an entire lifestyle, a way of existing and taking up space in the world around us. 

But if you're anything like me, it's all too easy to lose your way, especially if your creativity is also how you earn a living. Life gets busy. Stress levels rise and inspiration becomes ever harder to come by. Sometimes it's really easy to forget why you even wanted to be creative in the first place.

Although it took me years to really get the memo, it's essential to pause, recalibrate, and check in with yourself once in a while. Not from a critical angle but from one of genuine curiosity and self-compassion. 

Admittedly, I'm guilty of not doing this anywhere near as often as I know I should, but I'm working on it. Asking myself some simple questions once or twice a year and exploring those answers in whatever way makes sense at the time has helped. So, if you're someone who ever creates something out of nothing and calls it art, these eight questions are for you.

1. What do I create when no one is watching?

I don't know about you, but I create very differently when I'm doing it for personal expression and sheer joy than I do when I'm hoping to "get somewhere" with whatever it is I'm making. And it's only natural to care what other people think about what you make, even essential if you count on creative earnings as part of your living. 

But asking myself this question now and then brings me back to the truest version of my creative self, the version that doesn't really care if something I want to create makes me money or earns me new clients. I'm constantly reminding myself to make enough room for creativity that honors that version of me. If I don't, burnout can become a problem.

4 Ways Getting into AI Art Has Made Me a Better Writer

Juicy Burger - Shannon Hilson via Midjourney

So, as anyone who follows me elsewhere online probably knows by now, I've really been going down the rabbit hole with Midjourney and the wonders of AI-generated art lately. At first, it was really just this fun curiosity to dink around with in my spare time. However, it's since evolved into a real asset to the way I create things and explore all my different ideas.

It's also become an indispensable part of how I write and manage my online presence. Really, at one point, I really thought I'd cared about creating any kind of visual art for the last time in my life. But Midjourney has truly proven to me that I should probably never say never. Apparently, I still very much love expressing myself this way, and giving AI a try has turned out to be a very positive decision for me. 

Getting into Midjourney has also made me a better writer in some interesting ways, as well, and I can totally see where it could easily do the same for others in the larger online writing community. Here are some examples of what I'm talking about.

1. I don't have to scrounge for stock photos anymore

Not if I don't want to, anyway. I don't have to settle for choosing between good images that are seriously overused and lesser-known options that really don't fit what I'm posting very well, either. If there's a stock photo or a public domain graphic that suits my purposes for a particular post, then great. But I love that I'm no longer limited to those. 

This is especially the case when it comes to content that's tough to match with existing imagery anyway -- like creative non-fiction, personal essays, or short stories. Now I can just use AI images I may already have made. Or I can whip something up that fits in minutes. I've made custom illustrations for some of my creative writing, artwork for book covers, and more as well. It's been fantastic.

On Summertime and Dining Al Fresco

Bison-Bacon Burger with Cheddar Cheese

Well, summer is definitely in full effect here, where we live in Monterey. I swear it's exactly as if the earth has a calendar and can tell when we're past the summer solstice. For a while there, I was almost enjoying the warmer weather. I was excited about wearing all my favorite summery makeup looks again and breaking out all my go-to summer jams. (Lana Del Rey, anyone?)

Now, it's just... hot. It's humid a lot of the time, as well. I'm not as miserable in the heat as I was when I was still super out of shape and not taking proper care of myself, but I'm still not liking it. Heat makes it hard for me to do just about everything worth a damn to me, including working out, keeping up with freelancing commitments, and being creative with the writing time I have leftover after taking care of my clients. 

One thing I have liked a lot lately -- dining al fresco. Seth got the little area around the side of the house where we used to barbecue all set up again so we could sit outside once in a while. At first, we just used it to have a beer or a soda and a sandwich after doing some weekend yard work here and there. But once it got too hot in the house for it to be pleasant to eat dinner in there anymore, especially when we've been running the oven, we started taking our dinners out there, as well. 

Strawberry-Feta Salad for Juneteenth

We've always liked eating together, but the fresh air and sunshine have made our dinnertimes into truly welcome breaks from our workdays lately. We sit out there for a while, catch up with each other about whatever's been going on, listen to music, and unwind a little bit before going back to our respective offices. It's really been giving me something to enjoy about summer, as much of the year, it's just too chilly, too windy, or gets dark too early in the day. 

The natural lighting is excellent for food photography, too, so I've been taking advantage of that. These are shots I've taken of some of the summery things we've enjoyed for recent dinners. We've had bison burgers and chili dogs. I made fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and strawberry salads for Juneteenth. We've done Chinese, and Mexican, and Italian. 

I love to cook, be creative, and make memories, so it's been lovely to get really into doing all three at one time. It feels great to be sharing food photos regularly again, as well. I used to be so good about it but have fallen out of the habit recently. Really, I'll take anything that makes summer a little bit more bearable, especially anything that's also creative.

Assorted Stuff and Randomness

The Luncheon of the Boating Party - Pierre-Auguste Renoir

My head's been full of weird, existential thoughts lately. Much to the disappointment of people who actually know me, that doesn't always make me the greatest company, but it's been great for my writing. Good. It's been a while since I felt properly full of writing ideas that haven't either been done to death or that just don't quite scan for whatever reason. I haven't been doing too badly at sticking to my publishing schedule lately, either. 

The weather seems to have finally gotten the memo that it's June, as it's been feeling an awful lot like summer lately in ways I don't like. It's been warm, it's getting humid, and the combination of both has been making my soul feel like coming out of my body and floating away somewhere. This has never been my favorite time of year, as I don't like warm weather one little bit. But after last year, summer brings with it a certain amount of fear, as well. I'm trying very hard not to think about wildfires. I really hope the powers that be are better prepared to handle such things this time around.

Seth and I have been trying to make the most of things by using the mild-to-warm weather as an excuse to spend more time outside. We usually eat dinner in the kitchen, but lately, it's been warmer than I'd like in there for sitting, especially after I've just gotten done cooking. Being outside gives me a chance to cool off. Plus, it's actually been nice getting a little bit of sun and fresh air. My body and constitution seem to like it, even if my mind isn't always a fan. 

........

My writer's mind keeps circling back to creative writing quite consistently lately. I'm surprised, actually. Truly creative, imaginative storytelling is something I thought I wasn't interested in anymore and no longer knew how to do. It's been interesting to find out that not only still can I write like that -- and reasonably well -- but that my mind still readily goes there on command and naturally seems to come up with really unique ideas. 

An Odd Start to a New Month

May's been off to a bizarre start so far. I feel like it's been full of niggling irritations and lots of little things randomly going wrong. For instance, yesterday, some guy wrapped his pick-up truck around a pole outside the grocery store down the street. To the best of my knowledge, no one was hurt, including the driver. 

He did manage to knock the power out for at least a few blocks, though, including the power at our house. I knew something good and fucked up had just happened because I heard this loud, almost apocalyptic electric humming outside right before the power went out. Then, later, there was all this smoke in the sky that smelled like burnt wires and electricity. 

Thankfully, we have a gas stove, so I could still finish making dinner despite having to do it in semi-darkness. And I certainly thought we were going to be without power for a good long while, which put me in a pretty bad mood, but thankfully everything was back up and running by the time I was ready to fix everyone's plates. I had a tight deadline to meet for a client before I'd be able to go to bed that night, so it was a huge relief not to have to thumb out the last couple of articles I had to finish on my phone with what was left of my battery charge. 

The whole month of May so far, not to mention the last few days of April, have been kind of like that, though. Many annoying little setbacks you can't possibly plan for, like other people dropping the ball or clients expecting to drastically change the scope of projects without any notice -- that sort of thing. I feel woefully behind with a lot of the things I've wanted to do, especially when it comes to writing. I guess that's life, though -- a constant rotating game of "feast or famine."

Authenticity: The X-Factor That Makes Your Writing Pop

I get it. As writers, we want our work to resonate with people. We want them to read it and -- hopefully -- come back at some point in the future to read more of it. We agonize over how we can make that happen, meaning we try to figure out what people want, and that's fine. But if you're not also carving out a little piece of your heart and weaving it into what you're writing in one way or another, your writing will miss the mark. It will register as empty, dull, inane, and lackluster. No wants to read more of that. There's already way too much of it out there.

I'm lucky in that I fell head over heels in love with writing through personal journaling, so I've had a literal lifetime's worth of practice when it comes to making sure my writing is intimate enough. In fact, I'd almost argue that I've had the opposite problem most writers today have. If I'm not careful, I wind up injecting more of myself into my work than people even want to see. Whichever direction you're coming from, establishing and maintaining the right balance is the key to getting where you want to be with what you're doing.

Be Truly Genuine and Vulnerable

I read an article on authentic writing from a favorite writer on Medium recently that actually took me aback a little. He seemed to be arguing that no writer is ever truly genuine when they open up a vein for you and expose their more vulnerable side. He talked about how they're really only doing it because it gets them clicks, views, read, and comments.

On Flashbacks and Flashes Forward

I've been trying to get my shit together a little more regarding this blog lately. The craziness attached to that last Medium article that went viral over the summer is over now, but people are still finding their way here out of interest in me, so I've been sprucing up a few things. For instance, I just spent the better part of an hour reformatting old posts, fixing broken images, and all of that good stuff. Of course, anytime you're going back through any of your old work, it's inevitable that you'll at least skim some of it. That was certainly a weird experience.

I don't know that I do what other writers do and get hung up on how badly my older writing sucks in comparison to my more recent work (although I definitely do see a skill level difference.) I'm more stunned by how different my thinking is. I'm in a completely different mindset sitting here in my office writing this today than I was in most of my early posts. 

I've struggled so much in life, especially mentally and emotionally. I always did my best to put on a good face in front of others -- fake it 'til you make it, and all that -- but life, in general, always seemed so pointless and unnecessarily hard. It was heartbreaking to see Younger Shannon starting projects she was so hopeful about and quickly giving up -- all the fruitless little fits and starts. I can see in that version of me someone who desperately wants her life to matter and feel worth living but has no idea what such a life would look like or how to get there. The shadow of the person I'd eventually become is there, but barely. 

To be completely honest, I'm not really sure how I managed to get myself from there to here. When I read those older posts, I see someone who wants to die and is already well on her way to doing exactly that. I suppose I eventually sank deep enough that I was finally ready to do the shadow work. I'm not sorry those dark years in my life happened, as I wouldn't be able to write the things I'm writing now without them to reflect on, but it's hard to go back and witness them as they're happening. It's hard to read the proof of how hopeless and suffocating they were.

A Very Big Win for Cat

So earlier in the month, I felt a little bit inspired on a random Sunday morning and popped off a new Medium article after weeks of just focusing on my freelancing for a while. It was an advice article aimed at younger people in their 20's, filled with all the things I wish at 44 that I'd understood at their age. It did pretty well initially -- enough to make me happy. It got curated, as well as picked up for publication by The Post-Grad Survival Guide -- very cool things that I was proud of and grateful for, but nothing that hasn't happened to a bunch of my other articles so far.

Then a couple of days ago, the damn thing started going bananas and blowing up all of a sudden. At this point, it's accumulated tens of thousands of views, reads, and claps. It's even eclipsed the initial success of that first article I published over there -- the big "beginner's luck" win I've been trying to duplicate for the past six months -- so I'm super excited. This means a very badly needed chunk of money in my account next month, as well as plenty of exposure for my work that I probably need even more. (I am trying to make fetch happen, after all.)

I think the most gratifying part of this may be the feedback I've gotten from other people. Sure, there are always a couple of trolls who feel the need to swoop in and criticize what you wrote or just be salty in general because they're big mad they're not in your shoes. The great majority of these folks who reached out to me were kind, supportive, and sweet as far as the things they wrote though. People tweeted me, they emailed me, they added me all across all my social media platforms, and they thanked me for what I wrote because it resonated with them. That sort of thing is very humbling and validating for someone like me, as all I've ever wanted in life was to be heard. 

The Peace and the Stillness of It All

Things slowly appear to be drifting back into "normal" territory as far as all the quarantine measures go. This is although COVID-19 hasn't actually gone anywhere, nor have people stopped contracting it or dying from it. No vaccine has been developed, nor has any concrete plan been put in place to avoid a second wave. It's almost like the government and everyone else more or less decided to shrug and go "oh well". 

That makes me nervous. You'd think it would be making other people nervous too, especially if they work outside their homes or have to interact much with the general public to earn a living. I am exceedingly grateful that I don't have to and, to be honest, this whole pandemic has shown me just how right I've always been to simply be my naturally reclusive self to whatever extent I can. At this point, something about me others have always thought of as a personality flaw might literally mean the difference between life and death.

This has given me some food for thought in regards to how other people's minds work as well. I don't think I realized just how dependent others are on being highly interactive with the rest of society. They apparently count on others for everything, so not being able to go out and consort adds up to a complete disruption in their lives.

For instance, I don't think I realized just how many other people -- especially other women -- don't manage their own grooming routines. I knew I was unusual for insisting on cutting and coloring my own hair, but I don't think I fully realized everyone's also paying people to do their nails (even if they don't wear acrylics), groom their eyebrows, extend their eyelashes, keep their bodies free of unwanted hair, and so much more. No wonder everybody complains about being broke all the time.  

The Sunset of Another Year

I can't believe Christmas is on Tuesday, nor does it seem possible that it's nearly time to say good-bye to yet another year. My relationships to both my biological and extended families are strained at best (where they're existent at all), so the holidays always bring up some weird feelings for me. However, this year I also have this wonderful feeling of accomplishment to help balance some of that.

I'm realizing that at one point, I got pretty used to feeling like a fuck-up. Every December usually finds me painfully aware of the fact that yet another year has slipped by without my accomplishing anything of note. Anything to be proud of. Nothing I've done to make my life better or truly move forward toward any of the long-term goals I like to claim are so important to me.

But not this year. This year, I can look back on a year I spent diligently improving myself. I've been exercising every day. I've been eating well. I've been taking amazing care of myself, both inside and out. I've been learning, reading, praying, and worshiping. (I am learning German, among other things!) I feel beautiful, and confident, and strong. I can honestly say I am finally growing into a woman I am proud to be and cultivating an image I'm unashamed to show to the rest of the world, either casually or in regards to something that's more serious.

Take last weekend, for instance. I've sort of made friends with one of our Instacart shoppers over Facebook recently and she asked to meet me in person last Saturday. (Normally I do the shopping and handle the orders, but Seth gets the door for the shopper in the event the delivery includes alcohol and needs to be signed for.) I'll probably never be the most voluntarily social person in the world, but it was really nice not to feel like I literally can't show my actual face to anyone because I've let my weight, hygiene, and grooming routine slide too far out of control for too long. Despite wearing boxer shorts and absolutely zero make-up, I felt like a normal human being saying hello to a friend who wanted to see me and that was really nice for a change.

Blood Carrots

Last night, I dreamed I was a carrot. I was planted in a field with a lot of other carrots and tended by farmers that apparently took farming super seriously. To make sure all the carrots grew nice and big, they kept taking animals and even people out to the fields and slaughtering them on the spot so they could fertilize the fields with all the blood. It also rained almost constantly wherever this was.

In the dream, I kept soaking up all the blood and all the rain through the outside of my carrot body and it was weirdly satisfying. Like eating a huge plate of exactly what you've been craving when you're so hungry you think you're going to faint. Also, I never got too warm because my whole body was made of vegetable, safe underneath the surface of the earth. And my carrot top really liked blowing in the breeze. I knew I'd get harvested and eaten one day, but for some reason I was really excited about it.