The blade commission: What do we (or at least I, this time) get out of it.

By in large, the approach I’ve taken with regards to earning money making knives and other metal work, is that I hope to make enough to pay for the material and tooling costs I invest into my craftwork on the whole.
Some of the “standard” production items I make are priced to give me a reasonable hourly wage for the time it takes to make them, plus a little pay back on the capital investments. None of those, as yet sell at sufficient rates for me to seriously consider quitting my day job.
Commissions are a different beast. I don’t get nearly enough of them to be familiar or comfortable with the process. They are inevitably for a unique piece so I’m obliged to best guess the investment it will take to make it. Historically, they have all been from friends and relatives, or other people I have reason to admire and appreciate in the sort of way that makes me want to make them what they want, money aside. Thus further de-emphasizing concern for an accurate price quote.
A few months ago I accepted the most noteworthy to-date commission for a knife suitable for a Western Viking man, circa 850 c.e. with a recently completed, though later period Viking knife of mine as a base line for the level of complexity and ornament. My basis for quoting a cost were weak from the start, as I hadn’t kept all that good of track on how long it took me to complete the various elements of the base-line knife. Still I tried to assume that I’d make between $15 and $20 an hour.
I got to working on it, and it immediately became clear that in my time quote considerations, I was completely ignoring time spent researching, designing and negotiating for the most desirable design elements.
The design evolved as I went along too. The changes that which were driven by the customer, I felt at liberty to translate into price adjustments, but the great ideas I just had to try to satisfy myself, I thought best to absorb the cost of myself. That felt right, even if it wasn’t the most economically sound approach.
Now the knife is done. It is as full of flaws as any craftsperson is liable to note in their own work and yet I’ve been at this long enough to step back and observe that it really did turn out well. I also realize that the customer will likely be oblivious to most flaws and delighted overall, so it is with no shame that I turn it over considering the contract complete.
As for the $15 to $20 an hour: Boy, did I miss the mark there! Just tallying up time spent actually executing agreed upon design elements, I did not make $10 an hour; closer to $7 an hour. I kept better track of actual times there, so that, at least should improve for next time.
Adding the less well tracked research, etc. time, I estimate that I made something close to $4 an hour. Guess I had better keep my day job.
On the other hand, I have a real hard time being in any way distressed about this. I got a whole lot more out of this than just the money.
I was forced to expand my tooling capability to accommodate the larger than typical blade, and other special details. I learned how to do a few new things (and a few things not to do.) Design-wise, I learned how to construct original Oseberg style zoomorphs (an early Viking decorative style) which is something I’ve been meaning to do for years. That is all expanded capability.
I also have another way cool knife out there in public that folks are going to want to examine and perhaps covet their own enough to spawn more commissions. Granted, that would be the case, regardless.
And finally I made something special for someone (actually two people: The buyer and the person who will ultimately receive it as a gift) whom I already like and admire enough that I’d be interested and pleased to make something for them, even if money was not involved. That is perhaps the most rewarding of all, and something that would be far harder to come by if I were more effective at marketing, and economically sound quoting.
And I do still have my day job.
JoelS