I’ve worked off and on for nearly ten years as a designer in a store that personalizes nearly every item imaginable, as well as specializing screen printing T-shirts. I’ve made my fair share of school, sport, and event T-shirts, and it isn’t at all uncommon for me to see people out wearing my work when I’m back home.

Sometimes, however, I was disgruntled.

I am forever amazed at what people are willing to wear displayed across their torso. There were a few incidents, including the one illustrated in this post, where I found myself completely disgusted with what the customer wanted. Occasionally, I was given a reprieve from doing certain designs by my boss, since what they said or were to depict I found seriously disgusting.

I admit to an element of pride for a while. I would have, running through my head as I listened to customers’ requests or complaints about my drawing ability, a list of all the honors, scholarships, and art experiences from college.

I have an art degree, I might think. I know how to draw a mountain with trees on it.

More than once I found myself altering a design or having to draw with the customer leaning over my back telling me how to do it or what I was doing wrong, all the while thinking that the design was getting weaker or that maybe I should give the customer the pen and tell him to draw it himself.

That’s where starving artists exist, in the “fine, you’re so smart, you do it yourself” land.

To draw or create a design for someone else necessarily means that an artist has to turn off the pride element until it hits the degree where the finished product is something completely unacceptable to be associated as the artist’s work. I do have my limits in both subject matter and quality. Until then, there’s this thing called “money” and these things called “bills” and “the job” and sometimes I just have to shut up and draw.

Except I draw a line with racy fish images.

Because really, how disgusting and infantile.