It’s a pretty good question. While some magic has been firmly debunked, and some magic has been proven to work, these sigil paintings don’t fall into either category. They’re in that wishy-washy middle ground, the grey lands between yea and nay.
I could argue that, even if the magic doesn’t work – and I can’t guarantee that it will, mind – you’re still paying for a unique, hand-made work of art. Strange, symbolic, somewhat arcane-looking art, but still art. You’re paying for something no one else has had, has now, or will ever have: each sigil painting is unique.
I’m sitting down and layering canvas in matte and metallic paints. I’m wearing out my brushes, covering paper plates with dobs of acrylic colors, and buying 3-packs of my favorite canvas boards. You’re paying for materials.
You’re paying for my time, too. The time I spend wracking my mental dictionary for the perfect words to achieve your desired effect. The time I spend with my tiny sketchbook, working out the characters for your sigil and then combining them in different ways, figuring out the very best arrangement. The time I spend choosing colors for the painting. The time actually painting. The time photographing the sigil and writing up a description of its symbolism. Even with the simplest of sigils, like the one that started everything, it takes me at least two hours from conception through creation, through enchantment, to photographing and shipping. Complex sigils – not to mention mythological paintings! – can take 3-4 hours of solid work, easily. That means I might make 5$ an hour; needless to say, I’m not doing this for my dayjob!
But the materials cost so little, and the time costs so much, that you’re not really paying for either of them. You’re paying for the commitment.
Not my commitment. Yours.
Humans are funny creatures, and we have these big, intricate brains that get us into so much wonder and trouble. We associate “value” with “price,” “worth” with “cost.” Studies have shown, repeatedly, that a price that feels almost too high is actually perfect – it’s within our means to acquire, but enough of a stretch that we truly think through our desire and cement our emotional and mental commitment to the object or service we are purchasing. It’s so much easier to ignore something that’s free, to hoard free things – e-courses, books, anything – and never really use them. (Guilty as charged – man, you should see the free novels and e-resources I have collected and let gather virtual dust.) But by Golly, if you’ve paid this much money for that one e-course, you’re darn well going to use it!
It’s very strange, how money and value intertwine. I’m asking money for my magic because I believe that helps you, not just because it helps me buy more canvas and paint. (Conveniently, it does both!) Paying a price – even one too low to sustain the artist in question – helps gear your mind towards committing to engaging with the magic. It makes you think through your choice and decide whether or not you truly want and/or need this thing. Which means less buyer’s regret and more of your lovely grey matter – and the spirit behind it – enlivening the sigil that you choose.
That’s why you’re paying for magic. Because it makes the magic stronger for you.