Reopening Papercraft Commissions
When I first began selling my artwork over ten years ago as a young novice, I was making only one thing: handpainted original bookmarks featuring spot illustrations and calligraphy quotations from classic literature I especially loved. It was a fairly unoriginal beginning, but I still craved originality intensely, selecting lesser-known quotes and trying to come up with unexpected subjects for my paintings. I spent two or three hours on each bookmark and charged $10-15 for them. Even in the 2010s, these were pitiful margins once expenses and fees were factored in, but the satisfaction I derived from each sale was strong and sweet anyway, and drove me to keep working and practicing and growing in my craft.
As long as I live, I expect I shall never forget the elation I experienced when I received my first Etsy order. It was placed by a stranger in Clinton, Mississippi, and was for a Smaug bookmark of which I was particularly proud. The feelings I had while preparing to ship it are feelings I've been chasing ever since—the joy of connecting with another living human via the indirect medium of physical art, the satisfaction of converting meaningful creative work into subsistence, and the sense of pride that comes with handing off a loved creation that meets my own exacting standards.
Almost everything about my studio practice and materials have changed dramatically over the past ten years, with pilling Canson paper and muddy Koi paints giving way to professional-grade supplies, fan art fading in favor of original storytelling, and my average creation consuming not hours but many days in the making.
But one element remains exactly the same: I am happiest selling small one-of-a-kind analog originals in which I have invested great love and a piece of my soul. In the early days, these were laminated bookmarks celebrating my favorite stories. Today, they are the miniature watercolor papercraft worlds I build in little boxes and fold-out tunnel books. And in these days of AI ravaging the art world & corrupting soulful creativity with slop, my love for the analog & the OOAK is stronger than ever.
After a two-month break from accepting papercraft diorama commissions during which I had to turn down several requests because my schedule just wouldn't allow it, I'm happy to announce that I opened them back up yesterday and look forward to developing new concepts alongside clients this year and crafting some magical new miniature worlds.