This is how long it took me to complete the cross-stitch tablecloth of Hungarian dancers.  I meticulously tracked every one of those hours, counting four by four threads to fill in the 1m x 1m cloth. Any imperfections would ripple across it and ruin the finished work. So in the energy and enthusiasm of youth I toiled through every one of those thousand hours.

Even as I was working on this I considered how much my time was worth. Who would even pay me $1/hour? Today I still struggle to put a value on my art. Can I even consider the number of hours towards that cost? Is the value a mark-up on the hard costs of the materials as in many other businesses?

I imagine Vincent Van Gogh would be none too pleased to hear what his paintings are fetching at auctions nowadays.