Author: Miranda

  • Life of a Strawberry: Sweets and sours of my first mini collection

    Life of a Strawberry: Sweets and sours of my first mini collection

    Last Saturday I dropped off four art pieces for my first-ever gallery exhibition event. Doing this kind of thing was honestly not on my radar at all at the beginning of this year, and I almost can’t believe it’s happening. I owe a huge debt of gratitude to a person I’d never met before who visited my booth at Minneapolis People’s Pride this past June. They messaged me afterward, telling me about the miniARTure Art Show with The Otherworldly Arts Collective and that they thought my work would be a good fit for the show. That gave me the confidence to apply, and I was overjoyed when I was accepted.

    Several months later, I’ve got four pieces ready to show that have surprised me by fitting together into a narrative. I didn’t set out with a central theme in mind, other than the theme of food and flora that encompasses all of my work. I knew at the start that I wanted to do a bakery window, and the ideas for the other pieces came together somewhat independently. When they were all finished and I took a step back, I realized that they together tell the story of a strawberry. Here are the pieces I ended up with!

    A 3D mixed-media art piece with paper quilled sunflowers, a crochet and paper azalea bush, a paper quilled vine on a wooden fence, and a wool felted landscape background showing hills and clouds. Monarch butterflies are perched on the plants as well as flying into the distance.

    Pollinator Garden

    2025. Fiber, paper, and wood. 5″ x 5″ x 1″.

    The strawberry begins with pollination.

    The monarch butterflies in this piece represent migration and the essential role that migrants play in our food system. In this piece I hope to convey the beauty of spaces that are intentionally welcoming for migrants and that celebrate their inherent value.

    Strawberry Bush

    2025. Fiber, paper, and polymer clay. 5″ x 5″ x 1″.

    The strawberry grows and ripens.

    This piece celebrates the beauty of fruiting plants. But what that beauty conceals is the hardship that farm workers undergo as they hand-pick berries for wages that are far lower than they deserve.

    I have both practical and philosophical reasons for not depicting those conditions right now. First, rendering humans meaningfully is not one of my current artistic skills. Second, I do not want to visually represent a farm worker unless I work directly with them to present aspects of their experience that they want to share. As I grow as an artist, I hope to cultivate both the skills and the authentic relationships to achieve this.

    A 3D art piece of a strawberry bush with dark green leaves, white flowers, and red strawberries.
    A shadowbox art piece arranged as a bakery window with a polymer clay three-tier cake, crocheted pies and bread loaves, polymer clay cupcakes and pretzels, and paper and polymer clay cinnamon rolls. Golden text that reads "The Bakery" is affixed to the glass. A crocheted red and white striped canopy covers the top of the piece. The background depicts the interior of a bakery with menus and shelves of baked goods.

    The Bakery

    2025. Mixed media. 7″ x 7″ x 2″.

    The strawberry adorns a celebratory treat.

    This piece is a celebration of the roles that food can play beyond providing nutrition. Food can be a work of art in itself and is often the centerpiece of important social events. I love the concept of a bakery window because I imagine a vibrant community where passers-by smile at the joyful whimsy of tasty treats.

    Picnic Under a Willow

    2025. Fiber, paper, and polymer clay. 5″ x 5″ x 1″.

    The strawberry is the sweet end to a meal.

    At first, this piece was just the willow, an experimentation with paper quilling and crochet. The picnic was inspired by The Bakery. I loved the red and white textile as well as the strawberry cupcakes from that piece. And I felt that the willow’s lazy lean and softly dangling boughs called for a peaceful picnic. I imagine this as a celebratory meal, complete with champagne, dessert, and floral decor. What’s the celebration? Anything at all.

    A 3D art piece featuring a collection of tiny polymer clay foods arranged on a red and white woven blanket, sitting under the branches of a willow tree made from a paper quilled trunk and crocheted leaves.

    In the lead-up to the exhibition, I’ve got a complex range of emotions. I’m genuinely proud of what I’ve created. And fretting over the many things that I’d criticize or want to change. I’m honored to participate in a collective exhibition with other local artists. And nervous that my offerings won’t stand up next to their incredible talent. I’m overwhelmingly grateful for the opportunity to show my work. And terrified that people will scoff at the prices I’m asking for these pieces that I’ve put so much time and care into.

    These are the sweets and sours of showing my first mini collection. And just like tasting a strawberry, I think the balance of both makes the experience all the more exciting.

  • Pricing Plan

    Why I try not to price ‘high’

    I really want my pieces to be accessible and affordable to lots of folks, especially those without a lot of disposable income. Part of my ‘theory of change’ for WAFFLE Studio is producing physical items that remind folks about the ongoing need for farm worker justice. Most of my pieces are tagged with a statement about the donations I make to my partner organizations and the link to this website where people can learn more. (And I’m working to make sure every piece I sell comes with this info.)

    My hope is that when people receive gifts from loved ones and/or take home a piece of art that they enjoy, they will feel joyfully welcomed into the movement for a fairer food system. So I don’t want my pricing to be a barrier for folks who might want to participate in this way.

    I am also extremely fortunate that my basic needs – food, housing, and healthcare – are securely met. Class privilege plus having an incredibly supportive partner means I don’t need to make much money from the business in order to survive. This work is a labor of love for me that is really fulfilling. And more than that, it feels like a responsibility.

    That said, is my consistent undercharging the ‘right’ thing to do? Nope, not necessarily.

    The issues with pricing ‘low’

    First, I eventually have to at least break even in order to sustain this business (a huge revelation, I know). So far, I’ve been relying on savings and the generous financial support of my partner to cover my business expenses. Material costs, overhead costs (like this website and business insurance), steep booth fees (sometimes in the hundreds of dollars to sell at an event), transaction processing and listing fees, and design and organizational software subscriptions very quickly eat up my sales revenue and more. Eventually, I have to grow the business into a self-sustaining operation.

    Another issue is that just because I can survive without making a living wage off of this work doesn’t mean that I should. It’s probably not a huge surprise to most folks that it’s tough to make a living as an artisan. And it’s hugely inequitable that following an artistic passion is a career move disproportionately accessible to those with class privilege, like me. Artists and crafters already have to contend with consumers’ low pricing expectations influenced by global capitalism. By relying on other sources of financial support and setting prices that don’t reflect all my production costs (including a living wage), I might contribute to those expectations and unfairly impact other artists with less privilege than me.

    And finally, another piece of my theory of change for WAFFLE Studio is generating financial support for my partner organizations and the important work they do. The more sales revenue I generate, the more I am able to donate. I have no illusions that I can single-handedly sustain these organizations through this work. But I believe that every little bit counts, especially in this bigoted political climate that villainizes the migrants who feed this country.

    Building a mission-based pricing strategy

    So what to do about these sometimes conflicting goals and values? The mission of WAFFLE Studio is to raise both funds and awareness to support the farm worker justice movement. An easy answer would be to try to price things right in the ‘middle’ between widely affordable and revenue-generating. But I don’t think that works well either, as everything being in the ‘middle’ serves neither goal especially well. I’ve thought about implementing a sliding scale approach where folks can pay what they can/want within a suggested range. But I don’t want to create a situation where someone might feel obligated to pay the upper limit or feel guilty or embarrassed when they can’t.

    And what do ‘low,’ ‘high,’ and ‘affordable’ even mean, anyway? All of this is relative, of course, based on people’s perceptions of what a particular item is worth. That’s going to differ slightly for each person, depending on their income, price comparisons they have already seen, how much they know about the production process, and how much value they place on locally-produced handmade items.

    So here’s what I’m going to do for now. It’s not the “right” thing, nor do I intend to use this approach forever. I’m sure a lot of folks out there will take issue with this plan. But it’s a start.

    Materials

    This is the most straightforward thing to determine. Some of my materials are premium-quality and expensive (like 100% wool yarn), while others cost much less (like acrylic yarn I buy secondhand or paper pulp that I recycle at home). So I plan to develop some product lines that use higher-quality materials and others that use less-expensive materials for folks on a tight budget.

    Labor

    I am going to use the minimum wage for where I live (Minneapolis, Minnesota) that takes effect in January of 2026: $16.37 per hour. For pricing purposes, I am only going to include the labor cost to physically make an item.

    Markups

    The markup is where I’ll account for the following expenses, which will fluctuate considerably based on where I’m selling (e.g., at a pop-up market with a booth fee, at a retail shop that takes commission, etc.):

    • Overhead costs
    • Booth fees
    • Planned donations
    • Inclusive sales tax (for pop-up markets only)
    • Labor hours I spend doing administrative tasks like maintaining this website, tracking my business finances, finding additional market opportunities, developing and testing new product designs, etc.

    Pricing formulas

    I’ll use these two formulas to figure out the minimum and maximum prices I’ll need to consider as I’m determining what the “sweet spot” is for a given item. When deciding whether to price closer to the low-range or the high-range number, I’ll be thinking about what I hope to achieve with each piece, the uniqueness of the item, and the amount of skill required to create it. The final price will fall somewhere along the spectrum.

    Low-range

    My low-range formula is designed with the goal of breaking even without paying myself a wage to make or sell the item: Material cost * 3. Tripling just the material cost will help cover my donations (commonly 20%), commissions (commonly 30%) or booth fees (variable fixed fees), inclusive sales tax (usually around 10%), and overhead expenses (fixed costs).

    High-range

    My high-range formula is designed with the goal of earning a wage after covering business expenses:

    [Material cost + (labor hours * 16.37)] * custom markup

    For my higher-end pieces, I’ll determine my custom markup based on where I’m selling and the expenses and labor effort associated with selling there.

  • This post is a nothing-burger with lettuce and tomato.

    This post is a nothing-burger with lettuce and tomato.

    Okay, so here’s the thing. Several weeks ago I put on my blog landing page that my first post would be “coming soon in May 2025!” As I write this, it’s after 8:00pm on May 31st. I have two drafts, three other posts started, and none that are ready yet to share with the world.

    Upholding my commitments is really important to me.

    I’ve struggled with perfectionism all my life. I also have Generalized Anxiety Disorder and ADHD. I’ve recently discovered some exciting new crafting skills that I’ve been guiltily putting more time into than I “should” have. I’ve had some extra stressors and drains on my time and mental energy lately. And I’ve had some joyful opportunities like my very first outdoor market that I put in a lot of effort into preparing for. I did not finish any of the posts that I started. And now I’m less than three hours away from breaking my word.

    So here’s me keeping my promise that I’d publish my first post in May 2025.

    I have no illusions that what I’m writing at the moment is groundbreaking. Quite possibly nobody but me and my incredibly supportive partner will actually read this. But I have to remind myself that that’s not the point of this blog. I’m doing this as a way to practice transparency and accountability.

    Trying to hide the fact that I’m quite messy, rather scatterbrained most of the time, and frankly terrible at ‘time management’ helps no one. I hope that owning that and–dare I say–even celebrating that might help me chip away at the perfectionism that so often keeps me from sharing what’s in my heart. And maybe others out there will see themselves reflected in these experiences and can feel a little less alone. Those hopes of mine are the lettuce and tomato on this nothing-burger of a post. I don’t have much to say that’s significant, but if it provides me and anyone reading this with a bit of nourishment, that makes it worthwhile.