The Case for Saying "Yes" When the Money Isn't There...

-This article is for my students, for artists, and for creatives who dream of making their passion pay the bills- Hey crew,

I've been watching a lot of you hustle lately — booking gigs, turning some down, stressing over rates, wondering if you're selling out or undervaluing yourselves. Those are real questions worth wrestling with. But this month I want to make a case for something that took me years to fully understand:

Money is one way a gig can pay you. But it is not the only way.

A regular job works on a simple exchange — your time and reliability for a predictable paycheck. That math makes sense. Simple...But a creative career? That's a different equation entirely. The work that shapes you, stretches you, and ultimately defines you rarely shows up (especially early on) with a generous check attached.

It shows up as an opportunity.

And what you do with that opportunity is up to you.

The smartest artists I know treat every gig/opportunity like tuition in disguise. Sometimes you get paid in cash. Sometimes in experience, or portfolio, or resume. Sometimes the return comes back multiplied in ways you couldn't have predicted when you first said yes.

Here's what I mean.

Cash — the bills-paid, lights-on, gear-upgraded kind. Take these. They matter. They fund everything else.

Joy — the electric rooms, the crowd that's completely with you, the nights you drive home buzzing. These refill the tank.

Collaboration — working alongside someone you admire, a peer on the rise, a director whose instincts you trust. These sharpen you in ways practice alone never will.

Freedom — the gigs where no client is breathing down your neck, where you can experiment, break rules, try something half-baked and see what happens. Pure creative oxygen.

Purpose — the causes you believe in, the community events, the projects that align with your values. These remind you why you started.

Credibility — the portfolio piece, the credit, the story, the credential that quietly opens a door six months from now that you didn't even know existed.

Connection — the people you meet. One conversation, one introduction, one collaborator can genuinely rewrite your trajectory.

Play/Collaboration — two or more creatives with zero pressure, no agenda, discovering something neither could have made alone. Don't underestimate this one.

If you only say yes when the money is right, you may find yourself saying no to the very things that help you grow.

Now, don't get me wrong, it's good to know your value — but really know it.

Charge confidently when your experience and skillsets support it.

But we also need to recognize when our value is still building, and when saying yes to a smaller paycheck — or no paycheck — is actually an investment in the next version of ourselves.

Let me tell you a story from our early days that I still think about.

We were mid-run at the San Diego Repertory Theater when Christmas Eve rolled around. The show was dark that day, but we weren't resting. Months earlier, we'd been trying to build a promo packet from scratch — no connections, no budget, no idea where to start. So I did what any desperate, optimistic artist does: I started Googling photographers.

That's how I found Michael Voorhees.

One look at his portfolio and I almost closed the tab. This guy had shot campaigns for Porsche, IndyCar, Lance Armstrong, Michelob Ultra. We were two jugglers — I swallowed swords, we both played with fire — and we were unusual, but hardly the kind of act that he'd have any interest in. I emailed him anyway though. Told him we'd love to work with him, that we knew we couldn't afford him and that he was way out of our league, but that we were unusual if nothing else. Then I hit send and basically forgot about it.

Months went by. Nothing.

And then one day, a single reply landed in my inbox. He'd love to shoot us. Could we teach him to juggle four balls? And — was Christmas Eve available?

I said yes. We were booked. Two emails sent, one received, done.

We drove from LA to Newport Beach before dawn, nerves knotted, napping in a fogged-up car in his parking lot. His studio was pristine — white cove, roll-up door wide enough for actual Porsches, morning light pouring in like it had been ordered. He was calm, generous, completely present. He shot 400 digital frames and 250 on film, coaching us the whole way: "Every time you hear the shutter, change something. Dance with the camera."

He didn't charge us a thing. Not because he needed the exposure — this man was making tens of thousands shooting for major brands. He did it because he's a creative. Because he'd never photographed a sword swallower or guys playing with fire. Because we could teach him something he'd always wanted to learn. He didn't treat us like clients or charity cases. He treated us like fellow artists, and he showed up on his day off to prove it.

We left with images that became the foundation of everything we built next — and a lesson we've never forgotten.

Nobody wrote a check, but everybody got paid.

He got paid in images he'd never made before and in finally learning to juggle four. We got paid in portfolio gold, in a real education about light and choreography and what it means to have a good eye — and in a story I'm still telling today, 25 years later.

I've tried to carry that spirit forward ever since. No matter how busy things get, I never want to miss an opportunity for collaboration, or seeing a fellow artist as a peer, or forgetting that we're all here, first and foremost, to create.

So here's what I want to leave you with:

Say yes to the gigs that pay the bills. Say yes to the ones that stretch you. Say yes to the ones that connect you, excite you, or scare you.

Your career isn't built on any single paycheck. It's built on the body of work you create, the relationships you forge, and the risks you take when there's no guaranteed return.

Get out there. Weigh what each opportunity actually pays — all of it, not just the check. And remember: the best returns often come from the gigs that look the least like an investment on paper.

You've got this. Keep creating, keep connecting, keep growing.

See you in the next one...