Paper, plastic or floating in the clouds – barely visible, yet it dominates our lives.
Though money seeps into practically every interaction we have, we avoid the topic at all cost.
But as author and activist Lynne Twist points out: “The harder we try to get it, or even try to ignore it or rise above it, the tighter money’s grip on us grows.”
I spent most of my life trying to “ignore” or “rise above” money. And for years, I was proud of that approach. I never challenged my assumptions on money and how it shapes my life.
My parents both worked in service-oriented fields (my mom as a nurse and my father, a teacher). I was taught to prioritize impact over profit – and that wealth and service never overlapped.
Money was unspoken at best and vilified at worst. There was an assumption that those who had lots of it must be greedy and ego-driven. That in order to be rich, one must engage in immoral, illegal or unethical acts.
Indeed, the world around me confirmed this narrative. Money enabled people to act in rude, entitled and self-absorbed ways. Wealth was frequently accompanied with loneliness, addiction, and depression.
It also seemed that anything that collectively plagues us (wars, climate crisis etc) could be traced back to money. There are countless ways in which profit is valued over everything else – even life itself.
It wasn’t hard to build a case against money, especially living in capitalistic epicenters like New York and Los Angeles. So it’s not surprising that I came to mistrust money, keep it at bay and disassociate it from my creative pursuits.
To me, money “tainted” art – turning it into a disposable product, and transforming its intention in the process. Jean-Michel Bouhours, exhibit curator of “L’Argent dans L’Art” says:
“Art imposes an ideal, irrational, fluctuating and even gaseous value because it explores what cannot be quantified: desire, pleasure, dreams and even impulses, exacerbating what Karl Marx called ‘the enigma of value’.”
The value of creative work is so enigmatic that I often didn’t put a price on it. Whether I was writing, curating, producing, I told myself I was doing it for “pure” reasons. I was working for the sake of art and ideals. It led me to taking jobs for little to no pay, just because I was doing “good” and the credit was “enough.” It motivated me to reduce my rates to “help out” a well-meaning client. It even drove me to spend money I didn’t have just to prove my dedication.
When working in a creative field – whether art, film, music, writing – there’s an underlying assumption that you’re “not doing it for the money.” That you should be driven by passion and fulfilled by creativity. But passion can’t be cashed for rent, and artists have to eat too.
The “starving artist” cliché is a reality widely reinforced by society. As Lynne Twist points out, “The “starving artist” life sentence has us accept that creativity is undervalued in our society. It suggests that those of us who rely on creative gifts to make a living can expect to be poorly paid, and the rest of us are entitled to exploit them or short-change them in money terms, and undervalue them in human terms.”
With the internet and social media, that expectation has been multiplied tenfold. We can watch, listen, read almost anything we like – without paying for it. But “free content” is never quite free. We may not exchange money for it, but we do pay a costly price by giving away our personal information to advertisers, along with an endless permission for distraction and manipulation into consumption.
I used to think that dissociating currency from creativity was a way to keep art pure and my self-worth untethered to money. But it actually reinforces a cycle of devaluation. It restricts art and artists from participating in a system of exchange, reciprocity and appreciation.
That’s what prompted me to open up the paid subscriptions option for Seven Senses a couple months ago. It’s a big step, not because of the financial impact so far, but for what it signals – to the world and myself – that my time, ideas, and talent are valuable. It’s also an act of rebellion against the systems that perpetuate the “starving artist” myth.
Money has the power we give it. When used with intention, it can become a reflection of our deepest values. In Lynne Twist’s wise words:
“Money travels everywhere, crosses all boundaries, languages, and cultures. Money, like water, ripples at some level through every life and place. It can carry our love or our fear. It can flood some of us such that we drown in a toxic sense of power over others. It can nourish and water the principles of freedom, community, and sharing. Money can affirm life or it can be used to demean, diminish, or destroy it. It is neither evil nor good; it is an instrument. We invented it, and it belongs squarely in the human experience, but it can be used by and merged with the longings and passions of our soul.”
I hope this month’s Seven Senses – see, hear, smell, taste, touch, balance and envision – offers you a new perspective on money.
In Joy,
Sabrina
SEE
“The Soul of Money” | book by Lynne Twist
Available at your indie bookstore or online
This book changed so many of my beliefs around wealth, philanthropy, and even spirituality. Its author, Lynne Twist shares her insightful experiences as a global fundraiser for the Hunger Project. She sheds light on her (and our own) misconceptions and judgements around money; exposes the cracks of “top down” charity; and offers new ways to align our money with our values.
I particularly love her emphasis on “sufficiency” – a refreshing perspective to the popular “abundance” mindset. In her view:
“Sufficiency isn’t two steps up from poverty and one step short of abundance. It isn’t a measure of barely enough or more than enough. Sufficiency isn’t an amount at all. It is an experience, a context we generate, a declaration, a knowing that there is enough, and that we are enough.”
Beyond just a money book, this is also an adventure memoir. Lynne Twist recounts her world travels; her friendships with Mother Theresa and Buckminster Fuller; and the dreams that inspired her to co-found the Pachamama Alliance to help protect the Amazon rainforests.
HEAR
The Invention of Money | This American Life podcast
Listen online
For this month’s theme, I wanted to learn about the history and evolution of money, without the boring analytical undertone. This podcast episode of This American Life delivered the perfect blend of surprising facts and personal narrative.
Ira Glass investigates the history of barter, which goes beyond gold coins to include giant art sculptures. He also questions where money goes when there’s an economic crash. And it turns out – nowhere. “Money is not solid, its value can disappear.”
Jacob Goldstein, co-host of NPR's “Planet Money” explains:
“Nothing happens in the physical world, except electric pulses flying back and forth between computers. Money doesn’t really exist. Not only is there no gold, there aren’t even bills for most of the money that exists. Most of the money that exists is just the idea.”
The podcast reveals the many ways in which “money is fiction,” reminding us that it only works if we believe in it and trust it.
SMELL
Ink, Soap & Cocaine | the scent of money
Visit “L’Argent dans l’Art” exhibit in Paris (until Sept.24, 2023)
Most of us would agree money has a scent, but deciphering it would be a challenging task.
Perfumer Marc vom Ende was given that mission when artist Mike Bouchet commissioned him to recreate the scent of the US dollar bill. Ende’s search led him to discover that the US currency’s aroma has a “base of cotton, ink and soap—with notes of metallic cashiers, leather wallets and less pleasant substances.”
The dollar bill scent is a combination of hundreds of humans’ touch. Typically, a one-dollar bill stays in circulation for six or seven years and as long as 14 years. Each bill passes between 110 people on average per year. By the end of a dollar bill’s life, it’s been touched by almost 800 people. It turns out that some of the common scents detected on single dollar bills include soil, hand soap, human feces and cocaine.
For a more aromatic experience of money, you can experience a special money fragrance created by perfumer Julien Rasquinet for “L’Argent dans l’Art” exhibit at the museum of La Monnaie in Paris. The olfactory experience “captures all the different aspects of banknotes” starting with the notes of a freshly printed banknote “and then moves on to more ‘iridescent’ and woody notes reminiscent of the smell of old banknotes.” The exhibit also includes over 150 artworks – from Warhol to Duchamp – illustrating how the concept of money has changed over time.
TASTE
Edible Gold | luxury food
Beyond trading money, we’ve also been eating it for thousands of years.
The earliest evidence of edible gold dates to 3000 B.C., in ancient Egypt. Egyptians believed gold to have divine effects and used it for mental, physical and spiritual purification. The alchemists of Alexandria also thought gold could restore and rejuvenate the body and used drinkable gold in medicines and elixirs.
In Europe, edible gold arrived in the Middle Ages and was used by the royal courts to decorate their dishes. One of the most notable glittery blankets was held by Gian Galeazzo Visconti in 1386 to celebrate the wedding of his daughter Violante. Guests feasted on ducks, quails, partridges, sturgeons, and carps – entirely covered in gold leaf.
Gold is still consumed today. Often used in haute cuisine, on pastries, or cocktails, it can come in the form of gold leaves, flakes or powder. Compared to jewelry, which includes other metals in its chemical composition, edible gold is pure 24-carat gold.
Gold has no nutritional value but adding it to any dish instantly turns it into a luxury experience. Some take the gold approach to pricey heights. New York restaurant Serendipity 3 is known for creating the world's most expensive dessert: "Frrrozen Haute Chocolate,” a $25,000 ice cream sundae filled with edible gold and the world’s most expensive cocoas.
Some take an ironic approach, such as “666 Burger,” a New York city food truck (no longer in business). In 2012, they added a new item to their usual menu of $6.66 burgers – the $666 "Douche Burger." Described by the truck owner as a "burger filled and topped with rich people s*** ”, including a Kobe beef patty topped with caviar, lobster, foie gras, gold leaves and Gruyere cheese melted in champagne steam.
TOUCH
Origami bill | money art
As a kid, I was often told that money is “dirty” and rightfully so, since it passes through hundreds of hands. So I didn’t spend much time touching it, and it was never an object of play. But I’ve decided to turn that around. After all, money is paper – a perfect tool for art.
I’ve never been very adept at origami but wanted to attempt it, using a dollar bill. I chose a collared shirt design and followed this tutorial as well as this alternative method. Try both, you’ll get different styles of shirts (the second has a longer torso).
Once I made dollar shirts, I wanted pants to complete my outfit so I made two pairs of pants following this tutorial.
BALANCE
Jumbled Mantra | visual meditation by Kenshō studio
I used money paper (not a dollar bill) to cut the lettering for this month’s Jumbled Mantra. The message is inspired by Lynne Twist’s book ‘The Soul of Money,’ where she writes:
What you appreciate, appreciates.
In financial terms, an investment “appreciates” when it rises in value. In human terms, the same applies. Anything we appreciate – through our time, money, and energy – grows. It also highlights gratitude as a key ingredient to wealth. As Lynne Twist notes, “appreciating what we already have, what’s already there, and making a difference with that. When you make a difference with what you have, it expands.”
ENVISION
A Wealth of Values | analog collage by Kenshō studio
Rethinking of money as a currency of values, I wanted to create a visualization of what that looked like. I created a paper collage illustrating what matters to me. This includes certain material comforts, such as a home and good food. And it also encompasses deeper yearnings, such as the desire for a healthy planet, art and literature, learning and traveling.
I invite you to create your own collage reflecting what you value – big and small. You can look for imagery in old magazines. I used old paper cuttings I collect, as well as a stack of National Geographic from 1970. Look for visuals that symbolize your values. It doesn’t have to be literal. For example, I used a bicycle to represent travel (and eco-friendly transportation). For the idea of art, I chose a dancer and for craft, a traditional Easter egg maker. Once you have all your items, glue them on a paper of your choice (I teared out a page with a gold background). Then finish off by connecting all you value with a current of wealth. I cut out dollar bill paper in the form of a river flow.
Wonderful Sabrina. Once again so insightful and err right on the money (sorry!).
Once again, what you’re doing here reminds me of the Buddhist practice of giving intention to something to allow its true nature to reveal itself. And you’ve shown money isn’t this fearsome force, it’s an idea, an energy, even a plaything. It’s a healthy reframing and reminder I can certainly use. Thank u!
Woah! A million thanks for writing this, Sabrina. 🙏 I wish school had taught me this about money or you were my teacher. But I'm glad to have found this. Love the wealth of values collage — it's a great gratitude exercise and framework to visualize our values.