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

Whether you’re new to the big wide world of arts funding or an (understandably) jaded expert, it can be hard to understand why grants exist, who funds them, what you can use them for, where to find them, and how to (hopefully) win one. It breaks our hearts when artists come to us feeling confused, lost, or misled when it comes to grant funding. Let this article be a snarky, shining lighthouse in these unnecessarily murky waters.

Imagine a scientist working on a new, cutting-edge technology. When you picture her, she’s probably working in a research lab or at a university, right? Despite all the shows and movies that suggest otherwise, scientists don’t work in their basements — they work within institutions, because it opens up funding avenues for their projects. It might shock you to hear that similar, tax-exempt funding avenues exist for artists. If a project you’re working on 1) is artistic and 2) has a public benefit, you could use fiscal sponsorship to apply for funding from corporations and foundations, collect tax-deductible donations, and access nonprofit discounts. Let’s get into it.

Springtime is all around us, and we have some exciting, seasonally appropriate news here at Fractured Atlas. Tanya Birl-Torres and Alexis Frasz have joined the Fractured Atlas board and are already bringing a blooming energy to our organization’s work. Tanya’s and Alexis' expertise and passion for building better worlds for artists shines through this interview — give it a listen, and let us know what questions you have for Tanya and Alexis in the comments 💬

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.

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.