Scaling Creativity: Maintaining Creative Freedom Whilst Running a Business

Recently, I was described in an article as “Artist Eppie Thompson” and it made me feel like a total imposter. That’s a label I would never give myself, and whilst it feels very complimentary, it also feels incredibly intimidating. Not because I don’t create, but because I’ve never done any of those things that an artist does… never sold a piece of my own artwork, never put on an exhibition, never trained or had a critique. In fact, my journey to where I am now has been anything but traditional. I’m not an artist—I’m business owner and a designer, and just a person frantically trying to keep all those plates spinning.

Being called an artist made me reflect on how I define myself and how the roles of artist, designer, and business-owner are so deeply intertwined for anyone with a creative business. While they often blur together, each brings its own challenges, rewards, and sometimes existential crises. So I wanted to share why I chose to pursue the business over the art route, why that means I wouldn’t ever sell finished pieces, and how I’ve tried to hold onto my creative freedom within the business.

I’d be lying if I said I haven’t dreamed (and occasionally still dream) about the romantic idea of being a “pure artist.” The freedom to dedicate your entire day to creating, pouring your heart into your work without constraints—it sounds idyllic, doesn’t it?

But the practical reality? From all my friends who working artists, I have seen it’s an entirely different story. As a working artist, your income often relies on selling individual pieces, which can feel like a relentless uphill battle and incredibly exposing. You could value your creative talent by how quickly something sells. Then there’s the pressure—balancing creating work that will sell with what feels truly authentic, chasing gallery representation, submitting to competitions, vying for commissions. To me, that feels terrifying just to imagine, let alone live out. What immense bravery it takes to put yourself out there like that.

What really scared me, though, was the unpredictability. A career as an artist felt like putting all my eggs into one very fragile basket... my own creative aesthetic. And particularly as a textile artist—where every piece is incredibly labour-intensive and time-consuming—there’s simply no way to scale that. I learned this lesson early on, and it left me wary: I studied chemistry at university and, by the end, completely fell out of love with the subject. I wasn’t prepared to let the same thing happen to my creative practice.

If I’m being honest, the decision to take the business route wasn’t just creative or personal—it was practical. I live in London, one of the most expensive cities in the world. As much as I loved the romantic notion of being a full-time artist, the financial reality of relying on my art just didn’t feel viable. I needed stability to stay in this city I love so much.

Before I started The Fabled Thread, I worked in corporate finance, spending my days immersed in balance sheets, profit forecasts, and valuation models. It wasn’t the most creatively fulfilling chapter of my life, but it gave me something invaluable: the skills and confidence to build a business. And, if I’m completely honest, I have a soft spot for a really good spreadsheet and the intricacies of business planning. (I still read company annual reports for fun—don’t judge me!) I knew I’d miss the analytical side of my brain if I wasn’t putting it to use. When I started thinking about what I wanted my future to look like, it became clear that combining my love of creativity with a structured, scalable business model was the best way forward. That’s one of the reasons I chose to build a kit-based business instead of re-training and trying to be a proper working artist.

Alongside that, after years of slightly vacuous roles, I knew I wanted to do something I really cared about—to empower others to experience the joy of making, to help people rediscover their creativity. I didn’t want to feel alone in my creative journey; I wanted to share it with others. That mission—to spread the power of creativity—became the foundation of my business. And, as it turns out, it’s also been the thing that’s kept me going through all the challenges of running a business.

Choosing the business route has given me something that I think is incredibly hard to achieve as a full-time artist: stability and scalability. Unlike relying on individual art sales, running a business allows me to reach far more people and create something sustainable in the long run. It’s also given me the ability to plan my life with a bit more predictability.

Of course, when I first started, I had some wildly naïve ideas about what running a business would actually look like. Like many people, I bought into the laughable concept of “passive income”—the idea that I’d create a product, pop it on a website, and sit back while sales rolled in effortlessly. The reality couldn’t be more different. Running a business is anything but passive. It’s a relentless juggling act that involves designing, marketing, logistics, and plenty of problem-solving. There’s nothing passive about any of it—but, ironically, that’s the fun of it. Now it feels so boring to imagine it being passive.

The rewards go beyond the practical. Selling kits and products that help others create feels fundamentally different from selling a finished piece of art. It’s less personal in some ways—I’m not putting my own work out there, I am not bearing my creative soul for you to put a price on—but it’s so deeply fulfilling to see other people create their own artwork and see the pride they get. I get to design whilst you can be the artists. Every time someone shares a finished project or tells me how one of our kits brought them joy, it reminds me why I started this journey. It’s given me fulfilment that I don’t know if I would be able to get as an artist.

What surprised me most, though, is how much running the business has shaped my own creative identity. Through designing products, I’ve been forced to grow in ways I never expected. It puts boundaries on what I can do- for example, if I need to do a range for beginners I'll set a criteria for myself such as "must use satin stitch and chain stitch, and take less than 8 hours". Trying to still express myself under such constraints brings its own creative problem solving. Additionally, I have to continually evolve my style, because whilst I want everything to fee authentically me, I also want anyone coming to the website to be able to find something that resonates with them. Through this need for constraint and constant evolution, I have been constantly pushed creatively in a way I am not sure I would if I had total creative freedom. And while it’s not always easy to balance the business side with my creative ambitions, I’ve found ways to make it work (mostly).

One of my biggest fears when starting the business was losing my own creative freedom. I worried we could develop a signature style or get trapped having to make everything we do accessible to every skill level, which, whilst a great principle in theory, is quite limiting to me personally as the designer. That’s why I’ve made it a priority to keep creativity at the heart of everything I do and find ways that I can push weirder and wilder ideas to you all.

Of course, balancing the demands of a business with the need for creative freedom is easier said than done. Some days, I feel like I’m being pulled in a million directions—answering customer emails one minute, sketching out a new design the next. It’s not always easy to make space for creativity, but over the years, I’ve found a few strategies that work for me:

1. Letting the Business Evolve With Me
   One of the joys of running my own business is that I get to steer it in whatever direction excites me. That means regularly introducing new products or collections that align with my current creative interests. For example, when I wanted to start creating more complex designs than would be accessible to beginners, I launched a limited-edition range that allowed me experiment more. These projects keep the business fresh and exciting, not just for our customers but for me too.
2. Blocking Out Creative Time
   I’ve learned that creativity doesn’t work well when squeezed into the cracks. I need time to allow ideas to percolate, space to make a mess, isolation to experiment. So instead, I dedicate longer blocks of time—January and August are my “creative play” months, where I step back from the business and focus entirely on experimenting. These months are sacred to me. They’re my chance to recharge, explore new ideas, and reconnect with why I love making things in the first place.
3. Blurring the Lines Between Art and Business
   Even within the business, I try to ensure that every product reflects my personal style and artistic vision. Yes, there’s always a balance between creating things that are "popular", but I also make sure to include projects that challenge me creatively and might be less mass-appeal. Take the woolies for example-these are such big kits, they are only ever going to appeal to a few people, so I couldn't build a business entirely of woolies but having small wild ranges keeps things exciting for me and my customers. Through this, I get to grow as an artist even while focusing on the practical side of running a business.

Looking ahead, I do have big dreams for my creative life. Decades down the line, I picture myself in a glorious studio—a space with dedicated areas for textiles, printmaking, drawing, and anything else that catches my interest. A room that’s full of inspiration books, walls covered in mood boards, and the freedom to dabble in everything without limits. That’s the dream: to create a space where I can explore my passions while still contributing all that creative energy to my business, having a team who helps take those creative visions and bring them to something real, and getting to experiment and grow alongside the amazing community we’re trying to build. It’s about finding a way to grow both as an individual, as part of a team and as part of something bigger.

At its core, my business isn’t just about selling products—it’s about creating a space for creativity. I want it to grow alongside me and our customers, to evolve as we all explore new skills and interests. I want to run this business forever—it’s the thing I’m most passionate about and genuinely love doing—that has only grown stronger in the last 5 years. That’s why we’re constantly expanding what we offer, from limited-edition projects that push creative boundaries, to painting kits, raw frames and curated sewing supplies which mean we can encourage people to design their own pieces so that I in turn can promote it my designing pieces that won’t become kits. It’s why we are launching the Makers Membership, a space for advanced projects and a true sense of community for people who really get their joy from craft, which in turn means I can dabble in every other craft that excites me. There is a creative self-interest to every single thing we develop - I am not just doing it to try and sell something.

I do believe the focus on building a business that enables me and the team to retain our creative freedom, will give us more longevity because there will be part of our offering that appeals to makers, whatever stage of their journey. If we build a business that can grow with your creative confidence, offering new challenges and opportunities, that in turn gives us stability. This approach makes the business more sustainable and fulfilling in the long run—not just for me, but for the community we’ve built.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that running a business doesn’t mean giving up creativity—it just means finding new ways to channel it. Yes, it’s a constant balancing act. Yes, there are days when I feel like I’m failing at everything. But there are also moments of pure joy: seeing a customer’s finished project, launching a product I’m proud of, watching the community grow. Those moments make it all worth it.

The dream isn’t just to build a business or create beautiful things—it’s to build a life where creativity is at the center of everything. A life that allows me to explore, experiment, and grow, while helping others do the same. And maybe one day, in that dream studio of mine, I’ll finally feel like I’ve figured it all out. Or maybe not—but that’s the fun part, isn’t it?