The Reward for Being an Artist Is a Life Spent Being an Artist—A Conversation with John Hendrix

John Hendrix
1 hour ago
10 min read

In this conversation, we got a chance to chat with John Hendrix—author, illustrator, professor, and longtime friend of the Rabbit Room. John is a New York Times–bestselling illustrator of Mythmakers: The Remarkable Fellowship of C.S. Lewis & J.R.R. Tolkien, The Faithful Spy, The Holy Ghost, and many others. He also serves as Chair of the MFA in Illustration and Visual Culture program at Washington University in St. Louis. Together, we talk about what it means to make a life in art, how to answer parents’ questions about “making a living,” and why the true reward of the artist is the life of making itself.

Outline and Key Quotes

Every Path Has a Price

Topic: Students could chase money in other careers, but at a cost.

“Yes, you will make $100,000 at Goldman Sachs—but you’re going to be working 80 hours a week. Every path has its price.”
“You’re smart enough to make lots of different choices in your life. But every choice costs something.”

The Reward for Being an Artist

Topic: The reward is the life itself.

“The reward for being an artist is a life spent being an artist.”
“You may sacrifice certain comforts, but you will gain a life shaped around the work itself.”

Commerce vs. Craft

Topic: Don’t confuse money with meaning.

“Publishing is a bonus, not the definition of success.”
“Commerce does not validate art.”
“People conflate value with dollars. They think unless it produces money, it isn’t real art.”

The Cost of Making

Topic: Art requires sacrifice and patchwork lives.

“Artists sacrifice something to make their work. They always have, they always will.”
“There’s no genius shortcut—most artists live patchwork lives.”
“You can’t have the security of a nine-to-five and sixty hours a week making comics. That’s not how the field works.”
“It’s very normal for artists to juggle jobs, teaching, and their own projects.”

Flourishing, Not Money

Topic: Parents should ask about flourishing, not just income.

“Where do you think your child will flourish? Not where will they make the most money.”
“Flourishing is about purpose, not paychecks.”

Mid-Career Makers

Topic: Beauty of persistence and small joys.

“Find the little thing you can’t wait to get back to.”
“If you’re still making after kids and jobs, that persistence is its own kind of victory.”
“Even a zine stapled on a Xerox machine and given away has real value.”

Making as Worship

Topic: Creativity reflects God’s nature.

“In the beginning God created.”
“When we make things, we are imaging God.”
“The enjoyment of creation echoes God’s enjoyment in His own creation.”
“Making in and of itself is a form of worship.”

Transcript

(May include minor errors and paraphrases. Those little robots minions are doing the best they can…)

Andy Patton Welcome everyone. I am here with the John Hendrix—author, illustrator, teacher, canonical Rabbit Room, Hutchmoot conference speaker, board game enthusiast, sermon doodler. You can find out more about that last one on his Instagram feed. But welcome, John.

John Hendrix Yes. Thank you. Those are all correct titles. I appreciate that.

Studio and Creative Process

Andy Patton John, I'm gonna pick your brain about what it looks like when you're an art school professor, and parents come to you asking: shouldn't my kid be a doctor? Shouldn't my kid be a lawyer? They're doing this art thing, but what's the road from here to there? We'll get into that.

But first, I want to start with a fun question. I can see your background—all this paraphernalia, some of your stuff back there. What is in front of you when you come to work? What’s at your desk? What's your favorite pen? What's your favorite program? I'm talking to a lot of artists about practical things under the category of working as an artist: making a life, making a living, making things. Can you walk us into your setup?

John Hendrix That's a really good question. Having a space for yourself as an artist is not a luxury—it’s important, simply because you can immediately sit down to a project you were already starting. Every artist knows the hardest thing is to begin, to make the first mess.

Having a studio, a place where you can leave all the pens out—my pens, all the things I use, they're all right here. I use Microns. My favorite pens now are these Zebra Japanese brush pens.

The environment around you, especially if you're a visual artist, is critical. Yes, this is my studio space in the attic of my house. It’s floor-to-ceiling stuff, much of it things I wish I had made. They remind me why I do this. They remind me I’m never going to achieve what those artists achieved—and in some ways, that’s a relief. I’m just making a sandcastle alongside other folks. It’s ephemeral, temporary, not forever. But it reminds me why I want to be here making things.

I have been cut off, though, from buying any more replica swords from Lord of the Rings. I've reached my maximum, unfortunately.

Andy Patton Uh-huh. Well, that stage comes first of all, if we're lucky enough. So you've made yourself a little nook. When you were answering, I was reminded of house projects. So much of it is getting the right things, running back to Home Depot, moving the ladder.

When that's your life work, your creative process involves getting into a certain mental space, a flow state. I think that's wise advice—building yourself a nest.

John Hendrix I have in my studio four different spaces. I do different things at those spaces: that blue table behind me is for light boxing and tracing; here is where I paint; over there I write. The physical space cues me: this is what I'm doing when I sit here.

And yes, it’s like a home project—there’s preparation, the actual making process, and then cleanup. Cleanup is a huge barrier, right? You’ve painted, but now you’ve got an hour of washing rollers. It doesn’t seem fair. Art is the same way: preparation, making, cleanup/production/printing. It’s tedious.

Artist Origin Story

Andy Patton Before we jump into the topic at hand, can you just introduce us to yourself as an artist a little bit? Not what have you made, but what does art mean to you? What's your artist origin story? Little John—when did he know?

John Hendrix If you had to trace it back, it is literally tracing—tracing Garfield out of the Sunday newspaper. That's my first memory of making images. Shortly after that, it was The Far Side and Calvin and Hobbes. I started with the funny papers because those were just on my kitchen table every morning.

After that, I got into actual comics. But really, my artistic heart is made of 100% words and 100% pictures at the same time. That combination of word and image is magical to me.

When you put words and images together, there’s a third space created between them. It’s invisible except to the viewer or reader. And it’s that third space I love being inside of. That’s why I make art.

Teaching and Visual Culture

Andy Patton And now you teach people how and why to make art. Where do you teach? Who do you teach?

John Hendrix I’ve been teaching at Washington University in St. Louis—WashU—for 20 years. When I began, I knew nothing about teaching, hardly anything about being a human being. I figured out who I am as an artist and a teacher in front of students.

That’s actually a moral I teach: a lot of life you figure out while you are doing it. Embrace the improvisational angle to life.

The last five years, I’ve chaired a graduate program I founded: MFA Illustration and Visual Culture. It’s about teaching students to absorb the stuff our world makes that doesn’t end up in an art museum—comics, picture books, Chinese food menus, tractor tires, baseball cards. That stuff has meaning.

We also make things that participate in visual culture—graphic novels, zines, comics, picture books. So yes, I spend a lot of time thinking about visual storytelling.

The Parent Question

Andy Patton When I emailed you and said, “John, let’s talk about art, make it practical,” you said, “Let’s talk about parents asking, Can my kid actually make a living at this?” Walk us into that moment. How do you answer that question?

John Hendrix The reason I suggested this is because it’s what parents bring to the idea of children entering the world thinking they’re going to be an artist. Many times the young people show up in my classrooms or advising sessions with the same anxiety: is this a smart choice?

First: it’s not a foolish question. Parents love their children and want them to do well in life. Sometimes the undercurrent is: are they ever going to leave the house if they’re making performance art in the basement?

If you peel back the layers, the question isn’t “Will my child earn a living?” but “Will my child be wealthy?” Parents want their kids to do better than they did. And at WashU, many come from privilege.

So the first thing I talk about is expectations of life. These are smart kids—they could go into finance and earn $100,000 right out of school. Annie Dillard said: “The way we spend our days is the way we spend our lives.” Yes, you could work at Goldman Sachs, but 80 hours a week. Every path has a price.

The reward for being an artist is a life spent being an artist. If you can say, “That’s the life I want, I’ll sacrifice other things for it,” then we can talk.

Students’ Fears and Parents’ Fears

Andy Patton You’ve got a self-selecting audience—these students came to art school. Do you find that message lands? Is it just parents’ question, or is it also in them? How romantic vs. practical are they?

John Hendrix I love illustrators because they’re here for the craft. There’s no illusion you’ll be a multimillionaire. There’s always a kernel: “I have something to say. I want to make the stuff I loved as a kid.”

Most of the time, you just have to tell them: you’re not going to live in a van down by the river. You’re going to graduate with a BA or MFA from WashU. You’ll have options. Full stop—take away the fear of destitution.

Then we talk about what a flourishing creative life entails. Education vs. training—both matter, but not equally. Education is primary, training secondary. If you know your goal, you know how to stack them.

Devil’s Advocate

Andy Patton Let me play devil’s advocate. Part of me thinks, “Easy for you to say.” You’re a famous illustrator, New York Times bestseller, cool studio with Sauron’s gloves. You’re not in a van down by the river. For many of us, it’s a side hustle at best. How do you advise us?

John Hendrix First: my dad wasn’t Norman Rockwell. I had no advantage coming in. I felt all those things, maybe more acutely—I poured too much of my identity into my work early. When I went to grad school, took loans, moved to New York, it was a huge bet: “I want the life of an artist.”

So I understand the feeling.

Second: when people say, “I want to be a published author,” I try to get at what they really want. Often it’s about being published more than making art. But 99.999% of your life will be in the craft itself. Writing, drawing, sculpting—that’s the life.

If you work two jobs and write your graphic novel on the side, the goal is to enjoy that time. Publishing is a bonus.

Commerce and craft must be separated at the start. People conflate them: “It’s not valuable unless it makes money.” But you have to invest in enjoying the thing itself. Passion channels into work audiences can feel. You can’t inauthentically chase a market—“Pirates are hot, I’ll write a pirate picture book even though I don’t care about pirates.” That path breeds bitterness.

The life is to be present with the work, enjoy it, and enjoy the reason God made you: to create. There’s a theological identity in art-making when you center enjoyment and process over results.

Commerce vs. Craft

Andy Patton I’m hearing you reiterate: the reward for the artist is the life itself. But if you say to someone, “I’m writing a novel,” their next question is: when are you going to publish?

John Hendrix Right. “How can you afford to waste all that time?”

Artists live in a world that pulls the locus of control away from that happy place.

Practically: all artists build multiple tracks leaving school. We don’t have job fairs. Most artists lay track for writing, teaching, gallery work, side jobs. They push trains down different tracks hoping they’ll link up.

It’s normal to work Starbucks, library, adjunct classes while making your work. Charles Schulz, Alison Bechdel—same story.

And let’s be clear: artists sacrifice. They always have. You want the security of a 9-to-5 and also make comics 60 hours a week? That doesn’t exist. No one figured out the genius shortcut. Most artists live patchwork lives.

Privilege and Romanticizing

Andy Patton Culture romances the artist’s life.

John HendrixY Yes, but many bohemians we romanticize had wealthy parents. Joni Mitchell, Vampire Weekend. They had help. I’m not demonizing wealth, but recognize privilege plays a role. Don’t romanticize without context.

Flourishing and Training

Andy Patton So maybe part of the answer to parents is both: love the craft, but also hustle, put many trains on the tracks, maybe Starbucks jobs. Do you equip students for that?

John Hendrix Yes. I tell parents both the high and the low. The high: where will your child flourish? Not just where they’ll make money. The low: I’ll train them as entrepreneurs—how to pitch, sell, market. I even had them cold-call an art director on a rotary phone.

Education and training both matter. Education is worth it, but not always art school. I advise: undergrad in liberal arts, save art school for grad school. Liberal arts gives critical thinking, self-discovery, cultivation of virtue.

For Non-Students

Andy Patton What about someone not 18—say 32, with two kids, writing poetry in spare time, not going to grad school? What do they do now?

John Hendrix I love talking to mid-career makers. If you’re still making after kids and jobs, that’s gorgeous. Don’t put pressure on yourself: “I’ll write the great American novel in my 30 minutes a day.” That crushes creativity.

Instead: find pockets of joy. Little things you can’t wait to return to. If you write poetry, publish small runs on Lulu, give them to friends. Art isn’t art until shared (Walter Wangerin Jr.).

Make zines, staple them on a Xerox, give them away. Even one person seeing the world through your eyes is valuable.

Capitalism says unless you sell a million copies it’s worthless. That’s a false liturgy. Ignore it.

Worship and Creativity

Andy Patton This is a counter-cultural truth. How do you remember it?

John Hendrix Step into the pulpit: the fifth word of the Bible is created. In the beginning, God created. When we make, we image God. We make as Tolkien said: in the manner we were made.

Making itself is worship. Whether gardening, cooking, or writing novels—it’s good in itself.

Ask: why am I doing this? Not for fame, money, or recognition. But because God made me to make.

The enjoyment of creation echoes God’s own enjoyment. In the Psalms, God even says, “What I made was pretty awesome.” That’s beautiful.

So go make things, enjoy them, share them.

Closing

Andy Patton Well said. Thank you so much, John.

John Hendrix All right, take care.