![luthier and hive.PNG](https://files.peakd.com/file/peakd-hive/meno/23x12zXYCb7Xvcfpw1rd71dq48KkmXQ7FSHKWUQwCcByBDAVj6bS2M5fmFwso4i7rL2y9.PNG)AI generated image. I was lying in bed last night, trying to quiet my racing thoughts, when it hit me just how much time I’m pouring into Hive-related stuff. I’m spending hours, literally outside my house, on the road, either teaching new folks about this platform, coaching them, or trying to **onboard more people**. This self-imposed job of mine worries me a bit. Not because I don’t love it, because I do, or I wouldn’t bother, but because I’m terrible at finding balance. I’m wondering how badly I’m dropping the ball in other parts of my life right now, because *I’m definitely fumbling somewhere.* Yesterday, my mom brought up my *guitar building*. As you might’ve guessed, I’ve been doing next to none of that as of late. Watching React Native tutorials and trying to code a [Snap App](https://peakd.com/hive-186392/@meno/the-snap-app-that-doesnt-exist-yet-engesp) have eaten up the rest of my time. Heck, I’m not even cooking anymore, which I actually enjoy. So, there’s one fumble I can spot right off the bat. My mom, though, she’s insistent I get back to my shop and make some **“real money.”** She’s always been supportive of everything I do, but for most normies, this crypto thing doesn’t feel real enough. Mom knows that one of my cousins gave me a sale lead for a guitar. Her friend wants a special gift for her husband, something crafted by an *artist*. My cousin hyped me up and passed along the contact info, but a full week later, I haven’t reached out. *I just can’t get my head in that game right now.* That said, this weekend I’m hosting another luthiery class for my current student. So, I’ll be in the shop again, which is great. Teaching someone how to work with wood, turning it into an instrument, that’s exciting to me. But dealing with a client whose whims I can’t predict, especially knowing the fancy background of “*the lead*,” *doesn’t move me one bit.* I know this blog entry’s a bit all over the place, but let me share a fantasy that’s been swirling in my head. It won’t make much sense unless you share one of these tribal badges: you’ve worked retail, customer service, or you’re a musician, maybe a guitarist, and you know about our cork-sniffing equivalents. ### Here’s my fantasy scenario: Some random guy calls me up. He’s all, “I’m a big deal, super famous, and on the rise.” He brags about playing the best guitars worldwide and owning a few himself. He says he’s heard of me through word of mouth and wants to know if I can build him *something special*. I’d invite him to my shop to talk, to see where “the magic happens.” He’d play the part, acting impressed, ogling my wood collection, pretending to see a **soul in the grain of the planks**, maybe even picking out the pieces he wants for his guitar. We’d sit down, crack open a beer, and he’d start describing his dream guitar. But really, he’s just describing a copy of something already out there, like an Anderson or a Custom Gibson, something high-end. He’d say he wants an exact replica of so-and-so’s guitar. Maybe he’d pull up a photo on his phone of Slash from Guns N’ Roses, standing outside the church in the November Rain video, and say, ***“This is what I’m going for....”*** I’d finish my beer, smile, nod, tell him how cool that guitar is, how epic that video was. He’d be thrown off by my smile and easy vibe, so when he asks, “How much to make me one?” I’d hit him with, ***“I’m not interested.”*** That, I’m pretty sure, would feed my soul for a decade. *I can almost hear you typing, “Why would you do that? Have you lost it? Don’t you need work?”* Let me answer that upfront. Yes, I need work. I need money to live, obviously. But, and I mean this, people like that can shove off. Why? Because all that big talk, that whole sales pitch, boils down to one thing: they want a discount. I know it, you know it, and I’m not playing along. If you want a Signature Slash Custom Les Paul Snake guitar, go buy one. Simple, right? If you want a Picasso in your living room, buy one. But asking an artist to make a knockoff so you can pretend you own a Picasso? That’s insulting. ### What’s this got to do with anything? Maybe the caffeine’s getting to me, though I’m popping vitamins to balance it out. But here’s the deal: I’m picky about who I take money from. Why? Because money gives people power over you, and you’ve got to know you’re handing that power to someone with integrity. Just like nobody wants to work for a shady boss, as an artist, I don’t want clients without integrity. Do I know this guy’s like that? No, to be fair. All I know is some music video of his and a bit about his career, which gives me a gut feeling. But who knows? ### So, where am I going with this? These days, I own my time. It might keep me broke, with just enough in my wallet for the day’s expenses, but it keeps me happy, and to me, that’s worth more. Yeah, I might be burning the candle at both ends, but it’s my choice, and there’s a certain beauty in the light it gives off... MenO