The Artist to Barista Pipeline

Let's take a look into the go-to side career of aspiring creators.

Most of my friends have fantasized the same thing as me: working at (or even opening) a coffee shop where the pastries are fresh, the coffee strong, the air sweet, and the people kind. Maybe this shop is part flower shop, or bookstore, or record shop. Maybe the walls are cream colored and bare and full of windows, or green with cluttered walls and shadows. Maybe it’s based in a big artsy city full of dreams, like LA or NYC or Portland or Chicago, or it’s in a smaller, but still just as artsy, town, such as Chattanooga or Frederick or some place you have yet to hear of.

I’ve had this dream ever since I first found out what a barista was, which happened at some point in my high school years. My parents both lean more towards tea, and upon coming in to my work place and watching me pull shots and steam milk quickly, effortlessly, they say they don’t know where I got my love for coffee from. I don’t really know either; I just know that my original fantasy of sitting in a coffee shop and writing at some point developed into me being the one behind the counter fixing up fancy drinks for the writers, telling myself I’d write in my free time.

I got my first gig at a local shop when I was 18, a really run-down janky place near my university that I heard would hire whoever. I got my training done there, learned how to do the things I can do without thinking now, and my love for the atmosphere and the job grew exponentially. Now, when I apply for jobs, the first thing I search for are barista listings near me. Besides this career, I’ve always pursued being an artist in one way or another—and so has every coworker I’ve ever worked with so far.

At my current job at another run-down place in Baltimore, Maryland, both of my coworkers are currently in art school. One of them is working on a big portfolio while the other is considering a tattoo apprenticeship. At my previous job, most of them were photographers, musicians, or graphic designers. Likewise, if you take a look at some of your favorite indie singers, you’ll find that most of them either work as baristas or have a very strong caffeine addiction (take for example Comfort Club and Conan Gray). You can also find lots of artists in similar careers, such as bartenders.

Why do we do this? Why do we as artists lean towards fancy beverages as a way to get by while we continue to work towards our artistic pursuits at the same time? Why is it so incredibly common? At this point, I feel like I’ve gotten set up on a TV show where I’ve been strategically placed with the artsiest, hippiest people in town. I’m suspicious of the security cameras in the store, wondering who’s watching. “You getting a kick out of this?” But then again, my coworkers may feel the same sentiment towards me with my eccentric outfits and tell them I plan on being a creative writer. In my first week at my latest job, as we were getting to know each other, I told my coworker I’m a writer and have a couple of works published, he said loudly, “Of course you do!”

I asked around to a couple of fellow creatives who have worked similar jobs and a common response I got was that our hours are quite flexible. Most barista shifts are separated into early morning or late afternoon; you’ll rarely find one that takes up the majority of your day. This gives us time to practice our craft at some point in the day, whether it’s before or after or shift, without having to kill ourselves trying to make time for it.

You can find a pretty realistic example of this in Writers and Lovers by Lily King, a fiction novel about a struggling writer in the early 2000s (which I highly recommend; one of my only books so far this year that I gave 5/5). This protagonist has been working on her novel for 6 years, living in a literal shed (and paying rent for it) on an acquaintance’s property, and working a fairly posh job as a waitress in the afternoons. Something that she makes big note of is the importance of her “precious mornings.” At some point in the novel, she gets a chance at an office job, but expresses that she doesn’t quite want it because she’ll lose her mornings, which she spends entirely on writing her novel, from 6am or even 5am until her shift begins around 11am or 12pm.

I personally lack this dedication at the moment because I’m attempting to find the next big thing I should be working on, and I’m currently taking 14 college credits while working my usual job, so most of my free time goes to that (when I’m not crocheting or watching The Vampire Diaries). However, last summer I had the privilege of living with my parents and working entirely remotely from the comfort of my bedroom. I had the opportunity to work elsewhere, downtown, but I turned it down. I was in the process of putting together a poetry collection and needed the time to write and edit and get feedback. Because it was such a tedious process, I don’t regret this decision at all; I made the money I needed, and completed a poetry book by the end of the summer (which may be coming to you soon…more on this another time).

So, here’s what I’ve overall learned while trying to figure out what drives all of us creatives directly into the same pipeline: starving artists need to find a way to eat, and simultaneously still fill our creative needs. Oftentimes, these jobs as baristas and bartenders allow us the flexibility we need to continue to create while also providing us with an atmosphere that fuels our creativity. Working as a barista has introduced me to marvelous people who originally popped in for a quick coffee and we end up talking like old friends. I often write about them, or text someone about it, saying, “There are so many kind people in this world.” These jobs also often don’t have a uniform, giving us the opportunity to express ourselves through our personal fashion sense, which further encourages us not to restrict our personalities. Working at a coffee shop, to me, feels like dipping my toe into a creative field without taking a full step. Someone recently told me that they love being a barista because it’s “both a science and an art.” It’s strange how a cup of coffee can unite so many unique individuals.

When I think about my future (being after I graduate college next year), I realize that I just want to work remotely to the point that I started making and selling my own coffee and matcha at pop-up events, and I’m currently seriously thinking about opening my own shop one day. And yes, I want the walls to be both cream and green, open-windowed, plants running amok, and preferably somewhere in Portland. I’ll sell records and books, play my favorite songs, and pull shots till my arms fall off. And yes, the pastries will be fresh, the coffee strong, the air sweet, and the people always kind.