Commissions, Expectations, and Finding a Way That Works

Commissions are one of those things that sound great in theory. Someone reaches out, tells you they love your work, asks if you’d make something just for them. It’s flattering. It feels like momentum. And then you’re in it, trying to figure out how to make it go smoothly without losing yourself somewhere along the way…because it does feel different than your usual work. There’s more weight to it. Someone else is involved, there’s money, there’s a timeline, and your decisions start to feel a little less contained than they usually do.

The first time I took on a real commission, I didn’t think about any of that. I just said yes. I didn’t write anything down, didn’t set a price that made sense, didn’t outline what was included or not. I wanted to do a good job and make them happy. By the end of it, I had put in way more time than I accounted for and got paid far less than I should have. I remember being exhausted and also realizing I had no real way to fix it once I was already in it.

After that, I started paying closer attention to how I approached commissions and what made them feel either manageable or overwhelming.

The biggest shift for me has been slowing down at the start. When someone reaches out, it’s easy to jump straight to yes, especially if it sounds like a good opportunity or you’re in a slower stretch. Now I ask a few questions first so I know what they’re actually looking for, what drew them to my work, and what kind of timeline they have in mind.

A lot of people start with something vague, which is fine, but it helps to make it more specific early on. If someone says they want something like my work, I’ll ask which piece they’re thinking of or what they connected with, because that usually tells me a lot about whether we’re actually aligned.

Once I have that, I check in with myself and decide whether I want to take it on, not just whether I can do it. I think about whether it lines up with the kind of work I want to be making, whether I have the time for it, and whether I’ll feel okay about it when it’s done. I used to ignore that part and just say yes, and every time I did that, it made the process harder than it needed to be.

If I decide to move forward, I write everything down so there’s no confusion later. I outline what the piece is, the size, materials, timeline, payment structure, and how revisions will work. It doesn’t need to be overly formal, but it does need to be clear, because anything that’s left open tends to come back as a problem later.

I also ask for a deposit now, which is something I avoided early on but no longer do. It makes the project feel real for both sides and sets a baseline of commitment. I usually do half up front and the rest when the piece is finished, which keeps things simple and predictable.

From there, communication is what keeps everything on track. Most of the issues I’ve had with commissions haven’t been about the work itself, they’ve been about something not being clear along the way. Now I make a point to explain how I work, when they’ll hear from me, what kind of updates I send, and when feedback is actually useful.

I’ll usually send a sketch or rough idea early on so we can confirm direction while things are still flexible. Once that’s approved, I move into making the piece more fully, and I don’t treat it as something that’s open to constant reworking unless we’ve already agreed on that.

While I’m working, I try to stay connected to my own process as much as possible. If I start overthinking whether they’ll like it, it pulls me out of the work and things get stiff quickly. They reached out because something in my work already resonated with them, so I try to stay rooted in that instead of trying to adjust everything to fit an imagined expectation.

If something shifts on my end, whether it’s timing or progress, I let them know. A quick update usually prevents a lot of unnecessary stress later. When the piece is finished, I send a preview, confirm the final steps, and make sure everything is settled before it leaves the studio. That part is straightforward, but it still benefits from being handled clearly.

There are a few patterns that have come up often enough that I pay attention to them now. Not everyone understands art terminology, so keeping things simple makes communication easier. Visual references usually work better than descriptions when you’re trying to get on the same page. Timelines tend to stretch, even when you think they won’t, so giving yourself extra room helps you avoid rushing at the end.

Boundaries are a big part of this too, because without them a project can easily expand beyond what you originally agreed to, and that’s usually where frustration starts to build.

Commissions also take more energy than they appear to on the surface. You’re not just making something, you’re holding someone else’s expectations alongside your own process, and that can get heavy if you’re not paying attention to it. I’ve had stretches where I needed to step away from commissions completely just to reconnect with my own work again. That balance matters. Commissions can be a great part of a practice, but they can’t take up all of it unless that’s a deliberate choice. I try to space them out and leave room for my own projects so I don’t lose that connection.

If you’re in the middle of one right now and something feels off, it’s worth taking a step back and figuring out what’s actually causing that feeling, because it’s usually something specific that can be addressed once you see it clearly. You have more control over the process than it might feel like at first, and that becomes a lot easier to trust once you’ve worked through a few of them.