Artist Resources, Grants for Artists, Creative Projects, Making Money for Artists

From the beach to the dating pool, red flags are a form of communal protection: the water isn’t safe, keep out. Green flags, on the other hand, are like lighthouses, guiding us towards safety and belonging. In my time navigating these choppy arts industry waters, I’ve learned to trust my gut when it comes to people, institutions, and opportunities. If someone feels too good to be true, they’re probably not real. If a workplace leaves you feeling emptier than a box of fruit snacks on the playground, it’s time to clock out (early). But when an application portal prioritizes accessibility or a job listing includes a salary? Those people probably know what’s up. “Trust your gut” is an awfully short blog post (3 words okay, boss?), so let’s dive in and categorize some common arts industry experiences.

Hold up. Gig work is work? We know this news may come as a shock to some readers. Unless you’re an artist, in which case you are intimately familiar with the hidden costs, expectations, and contradictions of 1099 work. Like many other unacceptable realities of American living, the financial precarity of gig workers has been normalized in day-to-day life and entrenched in our laws. But there are growing networks of people working to change this reality and offering promising visions for the future of gig work for artists. We’re here to bolster 1099 arts workers with a bundle of statistics, a not-so-secret stash of resources, and a heaping spoonful of hope:

For creative people, text boxes with harsh word limits (or god forbid, character limits) are public enemy no.1. Distilling a deeply personal, evolving artistic journey into a few hundred characters can feel like an emotional and creative abyss—one that you can easily pour hours into with unsatisfying results. From our point of view (as a fiscal sponsor for artists that reviews thousands of grant applications per year), we have a few (humble) recommendations for making the writing process more fulfilling and framing your work to resonate with potential funders.

Hold up. Gig work is work? We know this news may come as a shock to some readers. Unless you’re an artist, in which case you are intimately familiar with the hidden costs, expectations, and contradictions of 1099 work. Like many other unacceptable realities of American living, the financial precarity of gig workers has been normalized in day-to-day life and entrenched in our laws. But there are growing networks of people working to change this reality and offering promising visions for the future of gig work for artists. We’re here to bolster 1099 arts workers with a bundle of statistics, a not-so-secret stash of resources, and a heaping spoonful of hope:

In our newest series, “Gentle Reminders,” we provide working artists with essential and convenient reminders for the care and maintenance of a nimble and flourishing creative practice. If your art is a garden, this series is about the continual weeding, watering, and miscellaneous upkeep it requires. To kick it off, we’re digging into the importance of regularly rewriting your artist statement.

Fellow perfectionists, I invite you to imagine the following scenario: you just printed a huge, adhesive sticker. It’s the height of a fully grown hobbit, and feels like a perfect, two-dimensional newborn (“they have your eyes!”). Now, imagine slowly unpeeling it, heart pounding, painfully aware that you have one chance to get it right. To your horror, the sticker begins clinging desperately to every surface it can find, including your skin, your clothes, and itself.

I’ll never forget the first time I took myself on an artist date. Okay, to be honest, I forget most of the details. But I’ll never forget how it felt. The clarity! The creative freedom! The subversive undertones. It was my first taste of anti-productivity.

Laurel True is a mosaic artist specializing in public and community-based artwork. She facilitates trainings and teaches people how to make large-scale mosaic murals and architectural mosaics. Laurel’s work can be found in streets all over the world but has also been commissioned for commercial and residential installations. She has been a member of Fractured Atlas since 2011 and recently sat down with us to talk about her work, life as an artist in New Orleans, and how being a member of Fractured Atlas has helped to improve the business side of her arts projects.

Dread Scott is a community-engaged artist and his fiscally-sponsored project, Slave Rebellion Reenactment, was a winner of the 2016 MAP Fund Award. Taking place in New Orleans, Louisiana, November 8-9, 2019, the Slave Rebellion Reenactment is a community-engaged artistic performance and film production.

Alice is a light skinned multi-racial woman with brown, yellow and copper streaks in her curly hair. She smiles and gazes at the camera. A necklace of Autumn colored beads sits around her neck. Photo by Beverlie Lord Alice Sheppard is founder of Kinetic Light, an organization working in the disciplines of art, design, architecture, and social justice, that creates, performs, and teaches at the intersections of disability, dance, and race. Their work seeks to showcase freedom of movement as a pathway for others to understand how mobility is fundamental to participation in civic life and to our understanding of American national identity. Alice became a member of Fractured Atlas in July 2016 and is based in Los Altos, California and New York City.