Pricing is part art, part math, part therapy. If you've stared at a number until your eyes crossed, you're normal. Here's the scaffolding I use when I'm not guessing from fear — for originals on the wall, commissions through the shop, and the occasional print when it makes sense.

Floor: materials + minimum wage sanity check

Add canvas, paint, framing if any, shipping materials, platform fees. Estimate hours — even rough — and multiply by an hourly rate you could defend out loud without laughing. If the total scares you upward, good; if it's still absurdly low, you're subsidizing strangers. A leaf-print series piece and a welded figure don't cost the same to make or store; start with real receipts.

Size isn't everything, but it's something

Larger work usually costs more in supplies and storage and risk. I use a simple size multiplier on top of a base rate, then adjust for complexity — a small piece with insane detail can outrank a big quiet field. Chaos of the Mind earns its number differently than a single leaf on black canvas.

Commissions: scope before price

Before you say yes, read the commission questions article. Deposit, revisions, timeline — spell it out. Custom 3D prints on the Flashforge get quoted separately from paintings; Crafts by Randi gnomes have their own range ($35–$75). Mixing all of that on one site means I can't use one price list for everything, and that's OK.

Prints: volume vs. dignity

Open-edition prints can be affordable entry points; limited editions justify higher prices if you honor the cap. Factor in scanning, color correction, printer or print-shop markup, and packaging. Underpricing prints trains people that images are weightless.

Raise slowly, explain never

You don't owe the internet a thesis when your prices go up. Better work, more demand, inflation — pick your truth. Consistency beats chronic underselling; kindness to yourself is part of sustainability. For current availability, hit the shop or email — I quote commissions case by case, same as automobile pickup at Genius Repair: discussed individually, quoted before work starts.

When the number still feels weird

If a price makes you flinch, split the difference: write the number down, walk away, come back tomorrow. If it still feels too low, it is. If it feels cruel, check your materials math again — you might have forgotten shipping, time, or the cost of storing large work until the Troy gallery can hold it. Pricing isn't punishment; it's how you stay alive enough to make the next piece.