Article: Why I Stopped Offering Custom Work (And How I Knew It Was Time)

Why I Stopped Offering Custom Work (And How I Knew It Was Time)
Someone emailed yesterday asking if I could recreate a piece in different colors. My gut reaction was to say yes. I'm a people pleaser, and I genuinely want everyone to have exactly what they want.
And honestly? I'm honored when people ask. It means they trust me with something meaningful to them. That's not nothing. I appreciate being considered for that kind of work.
But here's what I've learned over almost 29 years of doing this... sometimes saying yes to everything means saying no to yourself.
Why I Used to Say Yes to Everything
I used to take every custom request. Different colors? Sure. Can you make it bigger? Of course. What about this design but with that element? Absolutely. Can you paint my grandma's cousin's name in block letters across the top? Why not?! I thought that's what good business looked like. Being flexible and accommodating. Never turning anyone away.
And honestly? For a while, it worked. People were happy. I got paid. The business grew.
But I noticed something. The work I was most proud of, the pieces that felt most like me, were the ones I made without anyone telling me what to do. When I got to just... make what I wanted to make.
The Energy Cost of Custom Work
Here's the thing about custom work (and this applies to so much more than just art). When you're constantly adjusting to meet someone else's vision, you lose a little bit of yourself in the process. It's not that their vision is wrong or that custom work is bad. It's just different energy.
Think about it in your own life. There's a difference between getting dressed in something you love because it makes you feel good versus getting dressed for an event where you're worried about fitting in. Both get you clothed. But only one makes you feel like yourself.
Filling Others' Tanks While Emptying Your Own
That's what I realized about custom orders. I was filling other people's tanks but emptying my own.
Making the Decision to Stop
So I made a decision. I'd make what I want to make and trust that the right people would find it. Not because I think I'm too good for custom work (I'm definitely not). Not because I don't care what people want (I absolutely do). But because I'd rather make fewer things I love than more things that feel like obligations.
And you know what happened? Nothing terrible. My business didn't collapse. Different customers showed up... people who wanted exactly what I was already making. People who said "yes, that one, exactly as it is." Those conversations feel so much better than "can you change this?"
I get it... this might sound kind of selfish. Like I'm putting my preferences over my customers'. But here's what I've learned... when I make what I actually want to make, it's better. More authentic. More me. And the people who connect with it, really connect with it.
Custom Work Isn't Wrong... It's Just Not For Me
I'm not saying custom work is wrong. Plenty of people build beautiful businesses on custom orders. They love the collaboration. They're energized by bringing someone else's vision to life. That's amazing. That's just not me.
I had to figure out what kind of business I wanted to run. Not what I thought I should do, but what I actually wanted to do. What would let me still love this work after decades of doing it.
I'm lucky to be in a position where I can say no. I know that. Almost thirty years ago when we were starting out, I would have taken any work that came my way. Sometimes you do what you need to do. I get that. But if you're at a place where you have some choice in the matter, it's worth thinking about what you actually want to be doing.
And listen, I've been doing this long enough to know... never say never. Life changes. Circumstances change. Maybe someday I'll feel differently about custom work. Maybe there will be a season where it makes sense again. I'm not closing the door forever. I'm just being honest about what works for me right now.
What I Do Instead
Turns out, for me right now, that means making what's in my head and hoping it connects with what's in someone else's heart.
If you're reading this and thinking about your own work (whether it's creative or not)... maybe ask yourself what fills your tank versus what drains it. What feels like joy versus obligation. What you'd do even if no one was asking you to.
There's freedom in not being everything to everyone (and this goes for every aspect of life). There's a particular kind of joy in making exactly what you want to make or being exactly who you are and trusting the right people will find you.
And this isn't just about business or creative work. This is about everything. How you show up in the world. What you believe. How you dress, who you love, what you care about. The pressure to conform to someone else's idea of the "right" way to be... it's everywhere right now. At school, at work, online, in the broader cultural conversation.
But here's what I know after 40-something years on this planet... there's no one right way to be a person. There's just your way. And pretending to be something you're not to make other people comfortable? That's the thing that will drain your tank faster than anything else.
If you're younger and reading this, I hope you hear this... you don't have to fit into anyone's box. You're allowed to be exactly who you are and trust that your people will find you. They always do.
And if you're my age or older and you're still figuring this out? Me too. It's never too late to stop performing and start being.
I Still Want to Hear Your Ideas
That said... I do keep a running "to paint" list. And I genuinely love hearing what people want to see.
What I Want To Hear From You
Dog breeds I haven't painted yet? Tell me. Color palettes you're drawn to? I want to know. Themes or subjects you wish existed in my style? Send them my way.
And yes, I know... I need to paint more horizontal pieces. I hear you. So many of you have asked for landscape orientation instead of portrait because it would fit better over your couch or bed. I hear that feedback loud and clear, and it absolutely influences what I create next.
I might not paint your specific dog or recreate that piece in different colors. But your suggestions absolutely help me decide what collections to expand, what subjects to explore next, what my customers are actually drawn to. So please... keep the ideas coming. Email me or drop a comment. I'm listening.

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