[adjective][species]

We were fortunate enough to have the opportunity to present a panel this year at Rocky Mountain Fur Con, and let me tell you, it was an absolute blast being able to talk about exploring the fandom to a standing-room-only crowd (even if we did have the Worst Projector). While much of the information involved in the panel itself has already been covered here, the most fun part of the session was the discussion that followed. There are just so many insightful furries out there, and it was excellent having Klisoura, Zik, and Kyell there as well.

We also had the chance to record, so after the cut are two videos: one of the panel portion and one of the discussion portion. You’ll have to forgive my nervousness, of course, but I do hope you enjoy the panel as much as I enjoyed participating.

Exploring the fandom through data – [a][s] panel at RMFC2012 from [adjective][species] on Vimeo.

Exploring the fandom through data – [a][s] panel at RMFC2012 (comments) from [adjective][species] on Vimeo.

The next two parts of the world both are very close to each other, share enough similarities, and have small enough furry populations that I wasn’t sure whether I should put them both in a single article or separate them. The article would have simply covered “Oceanic countries”: Australia and New Zealand. I added a post script to the introductory emails I sent out, asking whether it would be prudent to cover both countries in a single article or to separate them.

The first response strongly suggested that I don’t write about them both in the same article, noting that Kiwis (the international nickname for New Zealand residents) in particular don’t like being lumped together with the Australians. Another response compared the two to argumentative siblings and said he didn’t think Kiwis would like “being lumped together with their dumb brother”.

I can only imagine if I had just written about Oceania as a whole that I would have incited some kind of hilarious international furry feud.

Barring that, I did learn a lot just from the introduction responses from the Kiwis. First of all, that “Kiwi” is a term referring to New Zealand residents. Kiwis, as you might know, are adorable flightless birds the size of a chicken native to New Zealand. The term came into widespread use after World War II.

Pictured: national mascot, several pounds of concentrated cuteness.

The responses I got to “The 11 Questions: New Zealand Edition” came from some interesting folk, to be sure. Two sets of responses come from anonymous New Zealand residents. Others came from Gunge, a rather surrealist artist, and Lyctiger, the chair of FurcoNZ, New Zealand’s big furry gathering. Without further ado, here’s a summary of what the Kiwis had to say about their furry culture.

“Furmeets”, small gatherings of 10-40 or 50 furries, usually at a furry’s house, are popular in America. Do those exist in New Zealand, and if so, are they prevalent?

Geographical separation plays a significant part. Cities usually form their own small communities with some separation even within these groups. Larger meets used to have up to 30-40 furs at house parties, but small groups of between 5-20 people are far more common. Cities also organize their own outings to things like laser tag and movies. To put this in perspective, New Zealand is over 1,600 km/990 miles long and at most 400 km/250 miles wide. For an island, this geography is interesting. Living in the center of the island can mean you can still be nearly 500 miles from some parts of the country. Auckland, New Zealand’s largest city with 1,377,200 residents (31% of the country’s population), is very close to the top of the country. To get from Auckland to Christchurch, according to Google Maps, is a 14 and a half hour journey covering over 1,000 km (over 600 miles) that even involves ferrying across the Cook Strait, which is 22 km/14 miles at the narrowest point and is considered one of the most dangerous sections of water in the world. (Fun fact: giant squid sometimes wash up there.) Given the time it can take to visit other cities, it’s perfectly sensible.

Might be worth it to come say hi to these guys!

How important is sexuality to Kiwi furries?

Due to recent issues with the media, Kiwi furries tend to have a straight-faced “public stance” with this topic, just like many American furries. In general, yes, it is important, just as it is anywhere. It’s a driving force, but is kept behind closed doors. The longest response I received was about the importance “furry” plays to transgenders, genderfluids, and those with other alternative sexualities like that. It’s something I’ve heard plenty of before, and has even been explored elsewhere on adjective|species: furries get a lot of comfort with their sexuality from other furries.

Is there a skew towards gay/bisexuals in the fandom like there is in the American fandom?

Significantly more male members than female members, and Kiwis generally believe that the furries are significantly more skewed towards bi/homosexuality than the general population. Nothing really surprising here.

How do Kiwi furries see the American furries? What do they think of us?

I have to admit, I love the direction this takes people in. Lyctiger mentioned that some might be jealous that more meets/events/gatherings are had here than in New Zealand. Pretty fair. America has a convention almost monthly, considering the country as a whole. He also gave some quick praise to how Americans have treated Kiwis in the past, saying that “American furs are quite nice, kind and welcoming of us (probabally because we are an exotic species!).” Another response noted that the crowds here are really sprawled out and sparse, as opposed to the close-knit communities formed in New Zealand. Living in the American Southwest, where the next large city is 450 miles away, I can understand that.

Exotic species = exotic conventions.

Do furries in New Zealand have a strong internet presence? How important is social networking over the internet?

The responses here were interesting. One respondent mentioned that their city has a Skype group for its furries. In addition, the New Zealand IRC channel on Furnet is very popular. There’s a central information sire (furco.org.nz), a mailing list, and, like most nationalities, a FurAffinity group. Lyctiger makes a note that these don’t all overlap. Many IRC regulars, for example, aren’t a part of the group on FurAffinity. Overall, I’d consider the internet presence pretty strong, especially compared to my own experience, and it might reflect the close-knit sort of community.

What differences do you think there are in the artistic styles of Kiwi and American furries?

Most agree that there really isn’t a distinctive difference in New Zealand’s furry art. One mentioned that Maori culture might have an influence, but I believe this is more likely topical and I personally couldn’t find any examples.

What does the fandom mean to you?

The responses to this question were probably the most divisive. For some it’s work, for some it’s a hobby, for some, as Gunge mentions, it’s “much less social, more just animals are pretty cool looking.” For some the suiting is the most important, for others it’s the art. For others, it’s a support for their sexuality. It’s very representative of the things people do with “furry” as a whole, but sort of condensed into a smaller population.

What does the fandom mean to those in your region/locally?

It’s the same across the board; no really strong opinions here. It’s simply a community thing to do and a sort of outlet to meet new people. The term “hobby” was used more than once. Very simple and low-maintenance.

After days of searching, I couldn’t find any culturally-inspired New Zealand furry art. You’ll have to settle for another kiwi.

How is furry seen as by non-furries in New Zealand?

One of the four noted that most people don’t really know what it is. Not surprising. Interestingly, the other responses noted a positive connotation, a negative connotation, and a half-and-half connotation. Straight split across the board, folks! As I understand, New Zealand has had issues with the media in the past, and for a smaller community that doesn’t sit well at all. As Gunge notes, the average reflection could be “so basically cartoons with a twist that’s pretty neat I guess”. Lyctiger pointed out that some might have a bad impression from the media’s focus on the “sex and wild parties” which has seen plenty of screen time, especially here in America. To those who might be more directly involved with publicity, i.e. the directors of FurcoNZ and such, it might feel like an uphill battle, but for the average person it shouldn’t be as bothersome.

What do people do in fursuit in New Zealand? Community activities? Furmeet activities? Just private/conventions?

Naturally, the quick answer by all nationalities has been the same for this: “conventions”. But, one might make note of the fact that New Zealand’s big national gathering, FurcoNZ, is held at an outdoor lodge, and for at least two of the years “fursuiting at a convention” in New Zealand could translate to “abseiling in a fursuit”, which isn’t exactly the same as “fursuiting at a convention” here in America. There are some other noted activities, such as zoo outings (a Halloween “Boo at the Zoo” event was mentioned twice), but this wholly depends on the fursuiter. One of the anonymous respondents noted that they wear theirs only at private gatherings. Lyctiger makes a note that, personally, it’s more about the performance aspect, and judging the answers from the other respondents this seems to be a big factor. Across the board, in other countries, I suspect that this will be a recurring theme.

Fursuiting: EXTREME EDITION

How are fursuits different in New Zealand from America?

While many reflected on the diversity of fursuits both in New Zealand and within the fandom as a whole, one respondent noted that there might be a better overall quality to the suits, excluding the non-commercial DIY works due to having a handful of fursuit makers. However, this doesn’t necessarily factor in. As Lyctiger noted, fursuit enthusiasts tend to take one of two options. With enough money, price becomes less of a restriction, and a fursuiter will buy a suit from anywhere on the planet as long as it’s in a style they desire. On the other hand, without as much money, they’re likely to consider creating their own. The savings on shipping doesn’t seem worth it if you can’t get the type of suit you want when you’re spending potentially thousands of dollars, after all.

And that’s the Kiwi furries. Since New Zealand is certainly the smallest place I’ve researched into it was insightful to learn about how their fandom is developing. It’s also one of the most beautiful places on Earth, and the photos from FurcoNZ certainly reflect that. They’re an interesting bunch and it’s been a pleasure taking a look at what they’ve been up to. Stay tuned; I’d like to cover the other major half of Oceania soon enough!

This is just a reminder that [adjective][species] will be hosting a panel at Rocky Mountain Fur Con this year!  Makyo, Klisoura, and Zik will be there to talk about exploring the fandom through data and introspection.  Please feel free to join us in Executive B on Saturday at 11AM!  For those not able to make it, we will be aiming to record the talk portion of the panel; if everything goes well, we’ll post it here.

Most people are familiar with feelings of isolation and loneliness. Loneliness can lead to feelings of depression.

It’s worse if you are young. It takes a long time to become happy with yourself, if that is ever fully achievable. Most of us experience personal growth as we age. If you don’t like yourself, which is much more likely if you are young, it’s easy to assume that you’re somehow at fault for being lonely.

It’s worse if you are male. Men are more prone to depression and suicide. It’s believed that this is biological.

It’s worse if you have an unusual sexuality or gender identity. Someone who doesn’t fit into society’s mainstream will often find themselves marginalized. This adds stress to day-to-day activities, possibly a feeling of ‘being judged’ or feeling outcast.

Furries fit the description of a high-risk group for depression. We’re young (median age 22 [ref]); male-dominated (80% [ref]); unusual sexualities (69% self-report as ‘not heterosexual’ [ref]) and genders (26% self-report as neither completely male nor female [ref]).

Furries are more likely to be socially isolated than non-furries. Members of the furry community – our friends, peers and, in some cases, de facto family – are spread across the globe.

Non-furries are more likely to make friends amongst those they grew up with. It’s common for people to make friends at school and keep them for life. Their friends and support groups tend to be located nearby, and they are more likely to find value in mainstream bonding activities, such as those you might see depicted on a billboard advertising cornflakes.

Much furry socializing, especially amongst the isolated, occurs online. Online contact can lack nuance and is often a poor cousin to face-to-face contact. Anyone listlessly lurking around social corners of the internet (like FA, Facebook, Twitter or IRC) can attest how easy it is to feel lonely online.

It’s easy to become downhearted by loneliness. However loneliness, isolation, and depression are very normal feelings, familiar to everyone. There is nothing innately wrong with feeling disconnected from the world.

(There is a big difference between feeling lonely and being clinically depressed: the first is a negative feeling; the second is a mental illness. Just like feeling outcast in a social situation doesn’t make you autistic, feeling lonely doesn’t mean you’re clinically depressed. Anyone with doubts should consult a doctor.)

There are effective ways to combat loneliness that are especially applicable to the furry community. Our online culture, our animal-person roleplaying, and our introspective assessment of ourselves and the world are all great tools.

Loneliness and depression is a common human trait. The problem – and a solution – is hinted at in Jonathan Swift’s 1726 novel Gulliver’s Travels. In this excerpt, the yahoo race is an analogue for humans, curiously regarded by a race of rational horses:

A fancy would sometimes take a Yahoo to retire into a corner, to lie down, and howl, and groan, and spurn away all that came near him, although he were young and fat, wanted neither food nor water, nor did the servant imagine what could possibly ail him. And the only remedy they found was, to set him to hard work, after which he would infallibly come to himself.

 

To use a more modern concept, consider Maslow’s hierarchy of needs (link), a broad psychological theory. The hierarchy of needs is not used in serious psychological circles, but is a useful blunt instrument to frame the problem of isolation.

Maslow posits that we are fundamentally driven by (1) atavistic impulses, like sex and sleep. Once these needs are met, we require (2) personal safety. This is followed by (3) a need for social contact. When this is met, we are able to pursue further needs up towards “self-actualization”.

If you are reading this article here on [adjective][species], it’s likely that you live in a world where you are able to meet these first two basic needs, like food and shelter. For most furries, the need for social contact is the first real hurdle towards reaching self-actualization.

Swift identifies the occasional need for an external impetus to get us out of a funk. Maslow shows that social contact is a fundamental need. With this as a guide, we can take action to draw other people into our world such that we become more connected and engaged. The following suggestions are mine, tailored towards the furry experience – they are by no means exhaustive. Consider it a starting point.

Firstly, consider that happy people are the easiest to get to know and like. Unhappy or aggressive people are intimidating; happy people are welcoming.

It’s very easy to be negative online. This is especially true if you are feeling lonely and depressed, and you’re hoping to share your own experiences.

But there is great value in emulating the way that happy people express themselves: “act happy”, regardless of how you feel. There are three immediate positive effects:

• If you appear happy, you will be more approachable. This will help you make a connection because others will find you easier to chat with.
• Acting happy will give you some of the experience of being happy. You will learn the lexicon of happiness, and your body language will change as well (even if you are tapping away at a laptop). The words, expressions and feelings of happiness will then be available for you when you need them – feeling happy will feel normal, not alien. [ref]
• Acting happy changes your brain chemistry in much the same way as actually being happy, which means pretending to be happy will make you happier [ref]. The adage “fake it till you make it” implies a cause and effect that is very real.

Secondly, try to chat with people in ways that make them comfortable. This means chatting on their turf, and choosing a topic that is the favourite of your conversation partner(s). This might mean visiting someone’s house and asking about their day at work; in the furry world this is more likely to mean using IRC to chat about someone’s thoughts on operating systems.

You’re practising an valuable personal skill – that of empathy – but more importantly you’re helping your conversation partner. People are always more engaged when talking about things that are personally important. Even though it might be a topic with which you have no familiarity, ask questions and try to keep your own thoughts out of it. Your conversation partner is more likely to seek you out for future chats, and the range of topics will naturally broaden.

This technique has the added bonus of removing any personal pressure on the social experience. You don’t need to think of a topic or something clever to say, yet you can drive the conversation.

Thirdly, be active and risky in your conversation. Speak on a controversial topic, or be very direct. This will encourage other people to chime in. As they become engaged, switch to a passive role and ask for more information about their thoughts.

This can be a short route to a fun and active conversation. It’s especially useful in group situations, like IRC or in-person furmeets, where people often tend to idle quietly.

Fourthly, try out some “life hacks”, to trick yourself into doing things you know are good for you.

A 1999 study published in the Journal of Behavioural Decision Making [ref] asked people to participate in a (fake) experiment. They were asked to choose a DVD to watch while they waited for the “experiment” begin. They were given a choice between a popular highbrow film (like Schindler’s List) and a popular lowbrow film (like Mrs Doubtfire). Participants who made their selection three days before the experiment were much more likely to select a highbrow film than those who made their selection on the day.

The participants knew that seeing a highbrow film would confer greater value over the long term, while the lowbrow film would be less challenging. People chose the lowbrow film on the day because they were, essentially, procrastinating. (We all want to improve ourselves, but right now we’re listlessly lurking around social corners of the internet.)

The simplest way to overcome this natural procrastination is to plan things in advance. If you commit yourself to a social activity that you know is good for you – perhaps exercise, or webcam chat, or some tabletop gaming – you won’t give yourself the option of procrastinating.

There are some excellent mind hacks, or productivity tools, available online for free. There are three geared towards geekier types that I’d recommend:

• Getting Things Done (GTD) (http://www.43folders.com/2004/09/08/getting-started-with-getting-things-done)
• The Pomodoro method (http://www.pomodorotechnique.com/)
• The Hacker’s Diet (http://www.fourmilab.ch/hackdiet/)

Finally, please allow yourself to good-naturedly fail from time to time. It’s inevitable that we all feel like failures, or feel depressed, or feel lonely. It’s normal and natural.

If we feel bad about something, we tend to use black-and-white language. We use words like “failure” or “fat” or “useless”. These terms make the obstacles to success look insurmountable.

But if we feel good about something, we use relative language. We use words like “better” or “thinner” or “improved”. These incremental terms make much more sense, because they reflect the way we change – slowly and steadily. When presented with a challenge, it’s helpful to think of it using relative language.

This article is about loneliness but it also touches on depression and suicide. I encourage everyone to give themselves a free pass for depressive or suicidal thoughts, because they are a normal and common experience. But I’m not qualified to give advice to someone who is worried they may be suicidal.

Fortunately a furry friend of mine is a qualified medical doctor. (And a horse.) His advice follows – please heed it if you’ve read this article and are worried about yourself.

If at any point you don’t feel safe within yourself, call emergency services. Don’t hesitate or second-guess yourself. However you may have arrived at this point, it’s not the kind of thing that gets better when you think about it. You can think about consequences when you feel you are safe.

 

Regardless of how you view hospitals (and possibly psychiatric wards), I cite the emergency services here partly because of my professional background, and partially because their role is to guarantee that your emergency is taken seriously. Somebody will respond and will be there for you.

 

If you don’t like hospitals, or psychiatric wards, or doctors, to the point where you would rather die than see one, and you have a friend that is so good that they could guarantee you the above, then perhaps that’s a viable alternative. They may not be equipped to deal with your crisis, but if you find yourself in this situation then it’s pretty desperate, and may require desperate measures that you can only access in a hospital.

 

The fifth largest country in the world in both size and population takes up nearly half of South America’s land mass. Possibly most notable to foreigners for Carnival (“Carnaval” in Portuguese), encapsulating 60% of the most biodiverse forest in the world, football (“soccer” here in America), and a 130-foot tall statue of Jesus Christ iconic of Rio de Janeiro. Brazil is a richly cultured country, so of course it’s bound to have a fascinating furry population.

It’s kind of an iconic statue.

The fuzzballs I talked to were very receptive and really enjoyed talking about the furry atmosphere that thrives where they live. One of the respondents, Koush, mentioned that much of the “furry” population of Brazil is focused in São Paulo, Rio de Janeiro, Belo Horizonte, and Curitiba, which are Brazil’s first, second, sixth, and eighth largest cities, respectively.

I talked to three furs who all gave input on the nation’s furries: Nisharu Etzel, Koush, and Tanuki Gokuhi. As per the format, their responses are summarized below.

 “Furmeets”, small gatherings of 10-40 or 50 furries, usually at a furry’s house, are popular in America. Do those exist in Brazil, and if so, are they prevalent?

These are often held at public places; malls, zoos, cafes, restaurants, and parks were all cited. Koush mentions that many furries are young enough to still live with their parents. This isn’t uncommon. Survey data posted from the Anthropomorphic Research Project suggests that 70% or so of furries are under 25 years old. Where I live, meets are held exclusively at an older couple’s home. Public Brazilian furry events can have up to 20-30 participants, while smaller gatherings at homes are usually just close friends and go up to maybe 8-10.

How important is sexuality to Brazilian furries?

I have to admit, this one always makes me laugh. It’s such a divisive topic and everyone always has something different to say and people always have some fun insight into the subject. It’s mentioned that there’s plenty of sex appeal in the art and the RP activities. Koush did mention that there’s a strong tendency towards homosexuality within furries in Brazil, that since a lot of furries are young that they’re still closeted about their sexuality, and that furry is a sort of hand-holding support for them to be more open about bi- or homosexuality. This phenomenon is discussed in depth here on adjective|species by JM here. In short, “furry” can act as a sort of gateway sexuality, allowing for people to accept homosexuality in a more comfortable and low-stress environment, and this leads to more people sort of realigning their sexuality as they progress in life. It happens in Brazil just as it happens everywhere else.

Is there a skew towards gay/bisexuals in the fandom like there is in the American fandom?

I have a feeling this is going to continue being answered in the previous question. Tanuki suggests around 2/3 Brazilian furries are gay or bisexual, a rough equivalent to the degree of homosexuality elsewhere. The agreement was strong on this one.

How do Brazilian furries see the American furries? What do they think of us?

I really liked the responses to this. Nisharu and Tanuki mention that there’s some sort of admiration. It’s easy to argue that America is the most furry-active part of the world, and that lends to the idea that there’s somewhat of a privilege here. Conventions and meets are common, and the “furry” population here is huge. As Koush adds, there’s also another dynamic at work. Since Brazil’s furry fandom is still a new concept, they can see some of the territory we tread and adjust accordingly. America’s furry activity is laced with sex scandal, and Koush mentions that there’s an aura of precaution: “let’s grow like them, but avoiding those points”. America sort of pioneers the idea of “furry”, and other budding furry populations get the opportunity to learn from our mistakes.

We’re sort of like a rowdy older sibling; the younger sibling gets to watch us make all the life mistakes so that he doesn’t end up repeating them.

Do furries in Brazil have a strong internet presence? How important is social networking over the internet?

The furry population of Brazil, according to Koush, probably doesn’t exceed a thousand. This is in the fifth largest country in the world. Furries are very scattered. Social networking over the internet is very important. The national language is Portuguese, so there’s a significant language barrier with Americans over the internet as well. It’s why many Brazilian furs aren’t as active on FurAffinity. However, there are plenty of Brazil-specific furry websites. Tanuki says the biggest is Fauna Urbana, a news and social site. Brazil also has its own e-commerce site that resells for SofaWolf, RabbitValley, and FurPlanet at www.furries.com.br. There are also some prolific Brazilian artists such as Nexus, Ursofofinho, and FurryBob.

What differences do you think there are in the artistic styles of Brazilian and American furries?

Nothing special here. Brazilian artists dabble in all mediums and styles. Tanuki does mention that the art seems more “warm” like the people of the country.

I couldn’t find a particularly Brazilian motif or style, so here’s a picture by Carykaiba, a Brazilian artist, of her fursona looking rather like “PaRappa the Rapper” – awesome.

What does the fandom mean to you?

Plenty of pretty common themes here. The creation of a second identity to use to interact with people. An escape from the real world into something more imaginative. Tanuki compared it to a massive multiplayer “real life”. Koush, an admin on both Fauna Urbana and Abando, Brazil’s big furry gathering, naturally has plenty vested into “furry”. Lots of ways to be involved.

I lied! I totally do have culturally-influenced art to post! This is some old promo art for Abando I found back when I wrote that article about international furry conventions. Charming, isn’t it?

What does the fandom mean to those in your region/locally?

Basically between a simple “It’s a thing to do for fun”, to breaking it down into categories: art, sex, escape, religion, socializing. Everyone dabbles in something or other.

How is furry seen as by non-furries in Brazil?

Just like anywhere in the world, not many non-furries know about furries. Public opinion is difficult to gauge, but these articles are about subjective impressions, not hard statistics. One felt like opinion might be better than it is in America, simply thinking they’re “weird people in animal suits” since the stigma American furries have largely doesn’t exist in Brazil. Or, maybe the opposite of that. My favorite response, from Tanuki, suggests that those who aren’t furries but know about furries think they’re “freaks/zoophiles/pedophiles/nuts and have a severe mental problem and should be fixed by applying severe and experimental treatments as seen on Fringe.” Admittedly, I chuckled when I read that. It’s a great way of wording it, for sure.

How are fursuits different in Brazil from America?

This was the most interesting set of responses. Faux fur, it turns out, is very low quality in Brazil. It’s also extraordinarily expensive to import. Tanuki mentions that a few fuzzies are great at making fursuits, but the lack of good materials is still a handicap. Koush mentions seeing good faux fur only once, only in black, only in one style, for $80/m2. Taxes also end up increasing the price. It’s an interesting problem I would have never suspected of a large country like Brazil.

Worth its weight in gold in Brazil.

What do people do in fursuit in Brazil? Community activities? Furmeet activities? Just private/conventions?

Just about the same as meets. Some people fursuit at Abando. Some fursuit at meets. However, the main fursuiting activity seems to be just hanging around in public at malls, parks, and the like, just to show off and interact. Nothing to do with any sort of “community” like the zoo volunteering I’ve heard of. Seems like a simpler “Let’s hang out and wander around!” idea. Which, to be sure, is awesome.

And that’s that. As always, it was a pleasure to get an insight into a new exotic area and to learn not only more about other furries but ultimately more about our own. I’d like to continue this as a recurring sort of series. Stay tuned and shoot me any ideas you’d like to see next time!

References:

• Wikipedia: Brazil
• Wikipedia: List of countries and outlying territories by total area
• Wikipedia: Demographics of Brazil
• Wikipedia: List of countries by population
• CIA Fact Book: Brazil
• Brazilian americans by Alphine W. Jefferson
• Anthropomorphic Research Project International Furry Survey: Summer 2011
• Adjective Species: Re-evaluating Your Sexual Preference
• Fauna Urbana
• Loja dos Furries

It is generally considered that you become an adult at 21 years old. Anyone who is 21 years old or more knows that this is completely false.

We might be physically mature, but there is a big difference between physical and emotional maturity. An emotionally mature person likes and accepts themselves. This takes a lot more than 21 years.

Personal hygiene is hard. Getting up in the morning is hard. Feeling lonely is hard. Managing suicidal thoughts is hard. Holding down a job is hard. Looking in the mirror, and liking what you see, is hard. And pretending that you don’t, deep down, consider yourself to be a failure is really hard.

Everyone feels like a failure at least some of the time. Society dictates that we must pretend that we’re doing fine, so we hide how we really feel. Everyone else wears the same facade of competence, which means that it’s easy to look around and see people apparently doing well. This reinforces our own feeling of isolation, unworthiness, and failure.

As you gain emotional maturity, you learn to take pride in your own self-improvement. You learn that everyone else is struggling too. You learn your real value and you gain empathy for all those other losers out there.

Ironically, for a group of people who identify as pretend animals, the furry community is a great vehicle for self-improvement. This is obvious through observation of our furry friends: seeing those pursuing education, weight loss, jobs, relationships, and other avenues to happiness. The science explains the value of furry as well, through clinical psychology and therapeutic experience.

Furries, unwittingly, act in ways that reflect psychological techniques for self-improvement and the pursuit of happiness. We have a healthy and effective method of managing our internal world, and of improving our relationship with the external world. The first helps us feel better about ourselves; the second helps us grow relationships.

The cornerstone of the furry world is roleplaying. Each of us creates an anthropomorphic animal alter-ego and acts as if this fiction were real. We routinely do this online but we also take this roleplaying into the real world. At conventions, or furmeets, or just among furry friends, we tend to act as our avatar. When you meet me in person, it’s entirely clear that I am not a horse (and my passport says Matt rather than JM) however furries will treat me as if I were. I like to hang around with other horses and complain about My Little Pony; I get why-the-long-face jokes; carnivores eye me up in a slightly disturbing fashion. It’s as if JM Horse were really there.

I, of course, return the favour and treat my fellow furries as if their avatar were real. (Hungry carnivores can be satisfied, I’ve learned, with candy. Or beer.) There is a mutual contract to reinforce the fantasy of our furry world.

Through this roleplaying, we are following a common Cognitive Behavioural Therapy technique known as ‘modelling’. Modelling is a self-improvement technique, usually applied to manage the internal criticism (from an inner voice) that we all struggle with when we are anxious.

A cognitive behavioural therapist will ask a client to identify a rolemodel. The rolemodel will be someone who is skilled at the behaviour provoking the client’s anxiety. So if the client is nervous about public speaking, he will be asked to think of an excellent public speaker. The client will then be asked to imagine what it would be like to ‘be’ that person. They will be asked to imagine how that person’s clothes might feel, see through that person’s eyes, hear that person’s internal dialogue.

Several things happen during this process. The first is that people become less self-focussed when they are roleplaying. When people are anxious, they tend to become more self-aware, which is usually counter-productive. The roleplaying exercise makes a connection between the new skill (public speaking) and a state of low self-awareness.

Pretending to be the rolemodel acts as mental mask, which has very similar effects to wearing a physical mask. A 2003 study from the Personality & Social Psychology Bulletin showed that people are significantly less self-aware when roleplaying (or wearing a physical mask). The effect is more than doubled when the subject is performing a task that makes them anxious.

Low self-awareness means that physical sensations – pain, nausea, heat – are felt less strongly. Awareness of the outer world is heightened. These effects from the mental mask of roleplaying make you feel more competent and confident.

The technique can also be used to try out new personality traits. Therapuetically, this is often used to treat depression or low confidence. The client will be asked to roleplay a happy person, which gives them experience as to how that might feel. Ideally, the client will draw some of the roleplayed traits into their normal lives.

Dr Robin Rosenberg is a clinical psychologist and editor of The Psychology of Superheroes. She believes that cosplaying is a form of self-administered mental health treatment. Dressing up as Batman, say, requires a client to practice acting like their rolemodel. At a sci-fi convention the stakes are low, so an insecure client feels safe to act brash and outgoing. This works as a practice run, giving the client some resources that may be summoned in times of stress.

There is more background on Dr Rosenberg’s blog in Psychology Today – http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/the-superheroes

There are obvious parallels to fursuiting, where an otherwise shy suiter becomes confident and outgoing. The experience of being in suit is liberating, in that you lose much self-awareness and become more engaged with the outside world. The effect is also comparable to furry interaction online.

Online, we can test personality traits in a friendly and low-risk environment. For some furries, online interaction is a stepping-stone to becoming a more confident social animal in real life. Some will roleplay as a dominant individual, which will help them to be more assertive. Some will roleplay as a different gender, which helps gain self-acceptance of an unusual gender identity. And many furries will experiment and discard traits that don’t fit.

The best example of the value of furry roleplaying is sexual preference. Many furries experiment with a gay or bisexual persona as a first step towards self-acceptance of their true sexual preference. Data from the furry survey, which forms the basis for an analysis here on [adjective][species] earlier this year, showed that around 50% of furries re-evaluate their sexual preference within their first five years in the community, typically from straight to gay.

The positive influence of furry extends beyond modelling. The value of ‘play’ towards self-improvement and maturation has been the subject of increasing research in recent times. It is understood that children develop social and cognitive skills through play, improving self-confidence and maturity. The benefits of play also continue into adulthood, in any areas where the subject is growing and learning new skills.

Social play, loosely defined as unstructured recreational time, helps improve social coordination and development of ‘social scripts’. Social play includes anything where there are no formal rules and where the social experience is unconsciously negotiated by the parties involved. Examples include a conversation or a drawing circle (but not TV or most gaming sessions). This includes so-called ‘parallel play’, where two or more people will engage in separate activities without much formal interaction.

The most relevant form of social play amongst furries is probably ‘pretend play’, which covers the sort of roleplaying that forms the foundation of much furry interaction. Online or in person, playing the role of furry characters and exploring different ideas helps develop self-identity and empathy. This translates into self-confidence.

There are a few examples where furry ‘play’ may have a direct positive effect on self-confidence:

• A furry meeting others for the first time may find themselves less anxious if this takes place in a safe, furry-only environment. Success in such an environment may grow the confidence of our shy furry, and embolden him to socialize elsewhere.
• A furry who feels outcast may socialize online, where she can find kindred spirits. Being accepted will help her understand others, improving her empathetic skills.
• A furry lacking sexual confidence might roleplay a sexual situation over text. This might lead to a low-stress real-life meeting, where intimacy already exists and the sexual mechanics are pre-negotiated.

The standards set by the furry community are important to help people discover a realistic target for themselves. Be it professionally, personally, or sexually, a person exposed to a healthy and happy community will tend to be drawn along a positive path. (Conversely, someone exposed to a negative environment will find it very difficult to rise above the norms of their peers.)

Happily, the furry community is a broad school. Someone new to the community is likely to find a positive and realistic rolemodel. We have many ad hoc variations of the mentor/mentee, or big-brother/little-brother relationship. Furries who are struggling with self-acceptance can expect to treated with care and respect.

Furries are unconsciously appropriating fun and using it for personal growth. The furry experience is externally enjoyable and internally rewarding. It’s making us happier critters.

Further reading on [a][s]:

• Re-Evaluating Your Sexual Preference

This is a section of Paul Calhoun’s second story in the Unplanned Adventures that starts and ends in the middle of the plot. This provides a good idea of what you can expect from the rest of the series. It also ends right in a place where the reader wants to know what the heck happens next. Well, as Q says in his audio version of ‘I, Q’ “You’ll have the buy the book to find that out.”

His Kindle store is where you can get this story for $1 and the rest for a reasonable price. Of course, if you’re a member of Amazon Prime you get all this for free. That’s not a commercial, just a reminder to the people who already are.

After getting their key cards, picking up their badges and materials, they went up to their room to get settled. Victor sat down in the armchair in the corner and opened the program booklet. “Usually the really interesting stuff happens on Saturday, but I’ve rarely had an hour slot with nothing I wanted to see. Yup. Next slot has a discussion on the construction and proper use of doomsday weapons. That’s my afternoon right there. You?”

Mike looked at his schedule grid. “There’s a welcoming session in one of the ballrooms for new furs and a place for previous members to catch up with each other. I think I’ll take Jamina down and see who’s here.”

“Not wasting any time, I see. It’s a good thing I set things up so your badge wouldn’t have your real name on it. Well, have fun. I actually think I’ll skip Saliaven for the weekend. I’m feeling like this is going to be more of a fen sort of con for me.” He stayed long enough to help Mike into the suit, then hurried to his panel while his son was still trying to find the right dress or skirt for the occasion.

***

Jamina floated down the hallway, luxuriating in the feeling of her multilayered skirts swishing about her legs as her large fluffy tail bounced. The dress she’d chosen had been intended for this use and had a hole in the rear that allowed her tail to bob freely behind her. She’s brushed her black tresses and light ochre body fur until she was sure that she looked as good as possible for this first appearance. The voice modulator turned Mike’s quiet chuckles into a light giggle as Jamina thought about how she’d wow everyone there. She’d thought about using the braced tail with elastic spine, but since she didn’t know how much room there would be or whether she’d have to sit, she’d gone with the large one that hung all the way down. Besides, Mike didn’t quite trust the padding on his butt to hide the necessary support for the tail, and he wanted Jamina to look as real as possible.

Despite knowing that she’d done everything possible to make herself presentable, Jamina still found herself checking in every mirror she passed, and the hotel had many. She never stopped, but she did slow down a couple of times when she noticed some of her raven-colored hair falling over her eyes and muzzle. She’d brush it back self-consiously and wonder if she should go back for a hairbar. Then the still-active core of Mike would smile inside the shy-eyed Jamina and keep going. His confidence wasn’t entirely in character for the young vixen, but it was necessary if she was going to meet anyone.

Jamina’s first reaction when she walked into the ballroom was the thought that perhaps she was overdressed. There were very few people suited and those who were weren’t wearing clothes. Well, except for that dashing wolf near the snack table who was wearing a leather vest and a wide-brimmed hat. Yum!

The lustful reaction made Mike flush inside of Jamina, who felt pretty embarrassed herself. Still, the grey-furred, yellow-eyed dish seemed to be the most animate person there. Though Jamina’s innocent green eyes were made to look at whoever looked back, the blue irises behind them kept glancing at the wolf even as Jamina went over to the welcome table.

The girl behind the table, wearing only a pair of ears for comfort’s sake, gave Jamina a warm welcome and complimented her on her suit. “One of the best constructions I’ve seen at this con.” She said.

Jamina inclined her head, brushing her black hair back before it could fall too far. “Thanks!” She said brightly. “I wish I could tell you who made it, but it’s not mine originally and I’ve forgotten. My dad made some alterations, though. Victor Falkner?”

The girl smiled. “I didn’t know Victor had a daughter. Tall? Tends to have odd equipment on his person at all times?”

Jamina laughed. “That’s dad, alright.”

The girl said, “He doesn’t show up at our functions too often, but he’s big on felines as I recall, and the Chronicle.” She looked at Jamina’s nametag. “You too? Well, it is a favorite in the fandom. I’m sure you’ll be recognized by plenty of people.”

Jamina turned as if to leave, but decided she had to ask. “Do you know who that wolf is?” She asked, pointing with a short black claw.

The girl leaned to the side to look. “Him? New as far as I know, or at least the fursona is. He didn’t come over here, so perhaps it’s one of our regulars with a new aspect.”

“Thanks.” Jamina talked with a few of the other new members, and one or two regulars who were there to help welcome them, but she continued to be drawn towards the wolf, who was still talking animatedly to anyone who approached him near the food table. No one seemed to know who he was, though, and eventually Jamina decided she’d had enough. Though such presumption wasn’t exactly in character, she reminded herself she was a Resonating Node, a Mage First Class in rank and no lupine with a hat was going to cow her.

She crossed the room over to where the wolf was drinking a soda through a long straw. Jamina picked one up for herself and said, “Hello.”

The wolf, who was taller than she’d realized replied, “Hi.” In a voice that seemed artificially deep. Like someone with a higher pitched voice who was trying to seem throaty. Considering his choice in suit, it seemed likely to Jamina that he was trying to go for the kind of voice his fursona would have.

Jamina tried to think of a way to continue when the wolf said, “I see from your badge that you’re Jamina. From the crossed-staves on bronze sticker, would it be too presumptuous to guess your last name to be Karia’tur?”

Jamina leapt at the opening. “Not at all,” she replied. “Your name, however, seems more of a mystery. Your badge is flipped the wrong way and so you have the advantage of me.”

The wolf bowed. “If only I could keep such an advantage. But for such a lovely young lady, I could hardly be so rude as not to identify myself. I am Wortag. Big Mad Wortag.”

Jamina stifled a laugh. This reference she knew. “Big…Mad…Wortag.” She replied with exaggerated skepticism. “Is that what’s sewn on your vest?”

“As a matter of fact,” Wortag said, his voice showing the rakish grin that must lie under his suit. “It is.” He pulled back one side of the vest to show ‘BMW’ on the side.

Jamina countered, “And how do I know you’re not just a car lover?”

“Ah, a wit to match my own!” The wolf cried.

Jamina did laugh at that. “I see that we have similar tastes. Perhaps I’ll be seeing more of you at the con.”

The wolf bowed again, sweeping his hat off. “I can only hope so, and that I’ll see more of you as well.”

Jamina knew that no one else in the room was going to top that introduction, and she felt justified in leaving to let Mike see a panel or two before dinner. As for Saturday… Well, Jamina fully intended to seek Wortag out if she didn’t run into him by lunch. This looked to be an interesting weekend for both her and Mike. She thought about Wortag’s over-the-top behavior as she walked back to the room and giggled to herself. She didn’t look once at the mirrors as she went.

Chapter 3:

Saturday

Mike had spent the early morning before programming started setting his schedule up so that Jamina could go to the morning panels and lunch, and he could join the afternoon panels. Evening and the masquerade would be whatever he felt like, though he expected Jamina to go to the parties.

Jamina had decided on a long, green, single layer skirt with a blue midriff. Something more casual and easier to get around in. She saw and greeted a couple of the people she’d met the day before, but didn’t see Wortag before the first panel. She’d picked them with the hope of seeing him there, and she wasn’t disappointed when she arrived to find him already seated. She slid in next to him and he looked at her. “Pretty lady.” He said in greeting. “Do I have a companion for the day?”

Jamina giggled and looked down at her program book. “Look at what I have circled for the morning and you can tell me.”

Wortag brought the page up close to his muzzle and said, “Well, well. I do believe we’ll be spending the morning together. How convenient.”

They fell silent as the panel started, a discussion on the merits and problems with popular furry fiction. A little past the halfway point, the audience started getting involved and Wortag and Jamina began to compete on who could make the best relevant point. Wortag fell silent first, though Jamina suspected that was so that he could turn slightly and watch her. Mike flushed more than usual as Jamina caught him leaning over and admiring his figure as Jamina stood up to make a point.

They talked and laughed as they went to the next panel, dealing with construction methodology. Panel’s members were more loquacious and audience participation was minimal. It was still interesting, and when they left, Wortag pronounced himself hungry enough to skip the next program item and take an hour for lunch. Jamina said, “I could eat like this, but I’d rather have my mouth closer to my food, if you get my drift.”

Wortag leaned on a wall nonchalantly and said, “Sure. I wouldn’t mind changing into something easier to eat in as well.”

Jamina replied, “My room’s right on the corridor. We don’t even have to take the elevator.”

Wortag’s tone was impressed. “Nice. That must be handy when you’re suited.”

“It is.” Jamina said. “My dad’s told me about some of his more difficult elevator rides.” She sniffed. “Not something I’d want to do my first con.”

Wortag laughed. “My delicate little vixen. Well, I’d need to grab some clothes from my room first. Meet you there?”

Jamina nodded. “It’s 364.”

“364,”Wortag confirmed. “Be right there.” Before Jamina could turn to leave,

Wortag walked right up to her. “One of your ears is flopping over,” he said as he reached out a paw to set it upright again. Mike felt even hotter in the suit again, but didn’t reply as Wortag took his leave.

Wortag was faster than Jamina had expected, and was carrying a bundle when he knocked on the door scarcely a minute after Jamina had arrived and gotten out her own change of clothes. She opened the door and Wortag came in. “I hope you don’t mind that I decided to come here first.”

“Not at all,” Jamina said. “Actually, I think it’s better this way. I know I should have told you this earlier, but-” She pulled off her fursuit head and Mike said, “I’m really sorry, but I didn’t know how to tell you. It just occurred to me that I ought to have been clearer.”

Wortag had taken a step back when Mike had pulled off his head and now he made a grinding sound in the back of his throat. Mike was afraid the wolf would start shouting at him, or storm out. Instead, Wortag lifted his own head off. “Dammit! Dammit, dammit, dammit!” He said in a much higher tone. Brown hair cascaded down to Wortag’s upper back as the girl shook her head to free it.

Make sure to catch the rest, snag a copy from Amazon!

The relationship between art and money is always tense. In fact, one of my favorite books that I read during my time in the music composition department at school was Art and Fear by David Bayles and Ted Orland (which I very highly recommend to any artist readers out there).  They describe the relationship, in part, as “There’s one hell of a lot more to art than just making it.”  The tension shifts in the world of ‘crafts’, functional art, and the like. The website What The Craft dissects the problem of working with money in craft in two excellent posts, one about why handmade is “so expensive” and another about how to price hand-made goods.  In both cases, the author explains that “[h]andmade goods mean attention to detail, quality craftsmanship, and a significant amount of TIME and SKILL”, which can in turn lead to the higher price.

Furry art, then, fits in a strange place in the middle, what with the “traditional art” aspect of a commissioned artist creating a work, as well as the custom, attention-to-detail oriented aspect of handmade crafts providing a visual representation of our characters. I’ve written before about the how the connection between a visual representation of one’s character can affect the way one interacts with an artist, but I spent little time on how the financial aspect of the transaction plays in the scenario.

In order to gain some insight on the matter, I conducted interviews with various artists, asking questions suggested to me by a few others.  The truth is, I simply have very little basis on this to work from in my own past.  I have had exactly one piece of music commissioned of me, pro bono, and it went terribly.  The work I do on my own in web design is a little more expansive, but still hardly worth much in the way of experience points.  Having collected the answers into one place and read over them a few times, I started to notice a few points of tension that stick out beyond simply “drawing one’s character”. I asked questions about how the artists had come up with their pricing schemes and how they interacted with customers, and each showed that a good amount of thought went into their role as furry artists.

When it comes to pricing the work of a furry arist, there seem to be two main ways of going about it. The artist will either come up with a rough guideline as to how best to price their work on an hourly scale – for example, given that a certain type of drawing takes x number of hours, they’ll come up with an estimated range for pieces of that type. The other way in which a commission price is determined is by checking prices against their peers and estimating from there. An artist of a certain style and perceived skill level can get a pretty good idea of how much they might charge for work by looking at their friends’ work and how much that goes for.

That said, the overwhelming response from those that I interviewed was that furry artists most definitely undercharge for their labor. One artist, Ten, mentions, “I’ve been to far too many artists pages’, even talked to friends of mine who do outstanding work, and they’re all ‘is fifty bucks too much? That sounds like too much’, and it turns out they think fifty bucks is too much for a fully colored custom work.” Another artist, who wished to remain anonymous, echoed the point clearly: “I have seen some very talented people charge very little for their work, and I try to point that out when I can. ‘You could charge twice as much, you’re so talented!’ is what I usually say.”

The question of why many artists charge as little as they do and why they don’t often raise their prices is a fairly interesting one. Certainly one of the reasons that many do not charge more is that it isn’t their primary source of income, but out of the five artists that I interviewed, only two of them had additional sources beyond their own art. So, if many artists are making art in order to support themselves, why is it that there is a general impression of undercharging art?

Part of it, I believe, is tied to the expected consumers of the art, the patrons who pay for the commissioned works. There is an expectation that furries simply will not have the money at hand in order to afford what would be full-price for a similar commission outside the fandom. Rhazafax mentions, “if it were possible to raise [prices] without losing a chunk of clients, I won’t lie, my pocket book sure could use it,” somewhat supporting that idea, while the anonymous artist mentioned that they “certainly charge furries less than what [they] would charge at a professional artist level.”

There seems to be quite a bit of mental strife involved in valuing one’s work in terms of dollars, pounds, or yen.  In order to come up with a price point, not only does hourly wage need to be taken into account (the “am I making enough” aspect), but also how that relates to one’s peers in style and skill level (the “am I asking the right amount” aspect).  For those who do it for a living, the point is quite fine, there.  The artist needs to pay for their rent and food, as does the client, and so their output needs to be high enough or of high enough quality; as Sigil puts it, “you can sell one picture for $100 or ten pictures for $10…which would be more rewarding?”.

But what about the client?

I should be honest that the impetus from this post came from seeing a rash of “wish I could afford it” or “those are cool but too expensive for me” comments on FurAffinity when an artist opened up for commissions.  I understand the difficulty of finances first hand, having paid my way through three years of college, then going on to buy a house.  Even many of the artists I asked sympathized on some level with these comments.  However, many of those comments seemed to be implying that the artist should lower their prices, even if only for the one who posted the comment.  Ten addresses this directly: “[I] wish I could cater to their price level, but then everyone would expect alterations for them, and it’d through off my whole point of having specific price points.”

This leads to another mechanism of catering to many when it comes to commissions: target audiences.  Sigil mentions that everyone can save up for a $20 piece of art, though the sentiment is echoed by many that I interviewed, leading to varied price points for different levels of work for the artist.  These are often exemplified by the ubiquitous pricing sheet (Floe,  Ten, Rhazafax, and Sigil - the four named interviewees – all have their own in their galleries).  Another example of a targeted client base was provided by Floe: “My target audience is repeat customers.  I tend to get better every time I draw them.”  She mentions that her prices are structured around this idea.

All these financial reasons surround this tension, and yet one main economic factor is very much subdued in this market: competition.  Most of the artists that I asked mentioned that competition plays a relatively small role in their interactions with others, often due to style.  ”Furries are going to commission the artists they like and the artists they can afford,” Ten explains, and Sigil echoes this: “if someone wants a Sigil picture, they will come to me.”  Even though there may be competition within price range, Floe explains that this is why she strives to build a relationship with her customers.  As a concrete example of this, Floe created our delightful RandomWolf banner for us at the top of the page, and I commissioned that from her last year after meeting her…gosh…five years or so ago, and having received several pictures of my own characters from her.

In the end, some of the tension surrounding money and art may indeed be due to the “yes, but this is ME!” aspect of having one’s character drawn by another, but there are often simple and mundane reasons at work, as well.  The artists need to make their money for their own reasons, whether to support themselves completely or simply to supplement their income, and the clients need (or want; I say need because I’m so terrible at drawing) art of their characters created by others if they want some sort of visual representation of the avatar into which they’ve poured so much of themselves.  It’s economics at its (complicated, puzzling, sometimes hurtful) finest.  And in the long run, well, we seem to do pretty well by ourselves.

I’d like to thank the artists who provided me with their input, and one of the best ways I can think to do so is to encourage you all to go check out their galleries, they’re really awesome!  Their input was invaluable not only in constructing this post, but also increasing my own understanding of the other side of the trade.  If you’d like to check out their responses in full, I’ve posted four of the interviews here.  I asked seven base questions, but, of two of the artists, I asked an eighth question that was put to me by a few friends.  Sigil broke this down into two delightful sub-questions that anyone can answer in their own way; feel free to let us know what you think in the comments!  Sigil’s in-depth response is available on the interview page mentioned above.

1. Is commissioned art different because it’s furry, and hence, usually more personal/self identifying for the client?

 

2. Should furry art be handled differently financially due to its niche status?

The furry community is expanding worldwide. Here on [adjective][species], Zik has been chronicling all things international with his comprehensive survey of conventions outside of North America – Furry Cons of the World – and his insight into the growing Japanese community – Foreign Furry Fandoms: Japan. Both articles are required reading for anyone wanting evidence of furry’s global growth. I understand that there is more to come from Zik, who is rapidly becoming the go-to chronicler of internationalism in our community.

One of the frontiers of the furry community is South-East Asia, with the local furry group – AnthroAsia – loosely incorporating Singapore, Malaysia, Thailand, Indonesia, and the Philippines. The group maintains an internet presence at www.anthroasia.com, which includes a fairly quiet forum with just over 400 registered members. The forums are quiet because most of the local furry chatter happens on Facebook, however the AA forums are heavily lurked and are therefore a great place for new furries to introduce themselves.

I recently visited Malaysia and wondered whether a local furry or two might be available to catch up during my stay. I’d met a few of the AA crew before, all Singaporeans, and guessed that they might know someone. I made the laziest possible attempt to make contact: a single tweet.

What happened next was predictable and simple and magical: a Singaporean furry saw my tweet and left a one-line public ‘shout’ at AnthroAsia.com; a Malaysian furry saw the note and got in contact. Shortly afterwards, I found myself with a furry in a mamak – a 24-hour open-air food market – at 2am on the outskirts of Kuala Lumpur. My host, Hiro Husky, had decided that a night-time meal would be perfect given my jetlag.

The food and environment were new to me, and I’d never met Hiro before, but the fellowship and friendly connection was as comfortable and familiar as my favourite stuffed zebra. Amongst furries, there is an implied trust and closeness. It’s never more evident than when you experience it with a stranger in an unfamiliar place.

Long-distance travel is central to the furry experience. For many furries, a trip to their first big convention is a pilgrimage of sorts: an important step in community engagement as they explore a large gathering for the first time. For those lucky enough to have experienced it, it’s great standing at a check-in queue and scanning the crowd for discreet collars, or bags big enough to carry a fursuit, or people wearing slightly tragic wolf-howling-at-the-moon t-shirts.

Outside of trips to conventions, furries fly around the world for more modest events: meeting an online romantic partner for the first time, visiting old friends, or meeting new furries in a new location as a tourist.

Long-distance travel is especially important to us because so much of the furry experience takes place on the internet, which means we’re less restricted by distance’s tyranny. With friends around the world, we’re more likely to get passports and catch planes or trains than our non-furry peers.

When you first meet a new furry in real life, there is an implicit level of trust. I think this is because of our common reliance on the community, a community that reinforces of our internal self-image, a club where the only requirement for membership is to decide you’re a member. We’re trusting because of our fellowship within the community: everyone wants to make a good impression.

The implied promise of trust and mutual respect means that furries are often willing to offer a visitor a place to sleep, perhaps a couch or a spare bed. Over the years I have offered a roof to dozens of furries, and have accepted as many offers when I have been travelling. I like to call this the Furry Accommodation Network.

To offer accommodation is a selfless act, but one that’s paid back by the generosity of the community at large. Far more than an ad hoc couch-surfing network, staying with furries offers immediate company, probable friendship and – sometimes – the genesis of a relationship.

It’s not all roses of course. I have had some bad experiences, both when travelling and when hosting, however these have all aged into amusing anecdotes. The friendships I have formed or reinforced through such arrangements remain strong and continue to grow today.

I stayed in a hotel in Kuala Lumpur but the advantages of the Furry Accommodation Network were all there, thanks to Hiro’s selflessness and generosity. I experienced a side of KL I could never have found as a mere tourist and I got to know a remarkable furry in Hiro.

Our conversation at the mamak started with furry and quickly spread to mutual passions: food, sex, and politics. Over flatbreads and dal soup, Hiro asked me about my relationship and the freedoms I enjoy as part of a gay couple in London. I responded that it’s pretty good, and improving – that gay marriage isn’t legal but it’s on the way; that my partner and I can act as openly as a straight couple in much of the city; that I am openly gay amongst my friends and colleagues, and that anyone with a problem would be considered a bigot.

Hiro counterpointed this with his experience in Malaysia. If he were to express physical affection towards his boyfriend then he could find himself arrested and tried under Sharia law. (Sharia law technically only applies to Muslims in Malaysia – Hiro is of Chinese background – but a homosexuality case could be considered to be a Sharia ‘issue’). Change in Malaysia is unlikely because there are laws in place that limit the ability for people to criticise the government, and the same party has been in power since Independence. Hiro is closeted amongst everyone outside of furry.

This is not to say that homosexuality doesn’t exist in Malaysia. Hiro and I were shopping in the geek heaven that is Plaza Low Yat, a seven-level shopping mall dedicated to all things IT. On two separate occasions, Hiro was given overt come-ons by guys as we walked past. Hiro is an attractive guy but he’s not effeminate or otherwise sending out gay vibes in any way that I noticed, so these couldn’t have been one-off incidents. I think that Hiro tries to maintain an asexual mask when out in public, and he was apparently oblivious in both cases. Suffice to say that a gay person, if they were so inclined, would still be able to meet people in KL.

When we were chatting, I talked about how fortunate I feel to be a part of the furry community. We both share the common experience of being blown away by the mere existence of furries. Furry has also helped our personal growth – Hiro and I are both included amongst those who re-evaluated their sexual preference after joining the community. On reflection, Hiro is probably more fortunate than me to have found furry: furry is the only environment where he can be an honest version of himself.

This is mostly a product of the illiberal Malaysian culture, which is comparable to most of the countries in the region. Things are better in Singapore – Hiro visits regularly – but it’s still much less permissive than countries like the UK.

For the AnthroAsia furries, participation in the furry group is very valuable. This is especially true for those furries with an unusual sexual orientation, gender identity or self-image. The AA group has grown quickly since its formal inception, and seems very likely to continue its growth as it is discovered by more young furries who might be lacking a rewarding social experience in mainstream circles.

My experience of getting to know Hiro and comparing our respective furry experiences reinforced what I think is great about our community. The Furry Accommodation Network – with its implied trust and mutual respect – is a microcosm of the happiness and self-realization that furry can bring.

Later this year, Hiro is travelling to Eurofurence with a few fellow AnthroAsia furries. It’ll be the first time he’s travelled outside of Malaysia or Singapore. He’s nervous about being around a large group, unsure of social norms in Germany, and concerned about language barriers. And he’s excited to experience his first pilgrimage to a large convention.

The feeling of excitement is mutual.

He’ll have a great time.

Hypnobeast is the cheery face of furry hypnotism. Best known for his retro FurAffinity banner ads, HB is a qualified hypnotist offering a service tailored to the furry community.

I enjoyed a long chat with him recently where we talked about the utility of hypnotism within furry, the trials of being a professional furry, and how to react when people ask you to rape them.

My reflections and some highlights follow in the article below.

Hypnotism is a natural pursuit for furries. The trance state is like a vivid waking dream: hyper-alert yet perfectly relaxed. This state, with guidance, is the closest that any of us will get to living and feeling our imaginary furry bodies.

It helps that furries usually have strong imaginations and vivid internal lives. Our furry alter egos are already well realized within the community: hypnotism allows us to take that a half-step further.

In a session with HB, he will ask you about your furry identity and your reasons for choosing their form. Given the premise that furries craft their avatar with great care, HB will reflect the language of that creation. So if you associate (say) your inner fox with intelligence and creativity, HB will use language during the session that reinforces those concepts.

The process itself is simple enough: a few minutes of relaxation, followed by some image-rich wordplay designed to engage your imagination, followed by exploration of your furry body as if you were inside it. The experience is different for everyone, but the biggest variable is the skill of the hypnotist.

HB is a proper old school furry. He started by lurking around alt.fan.dragons as a tween in the early 90s, eventually graduating into the growing furry world. Like a lot of furries who discover the community at a young age, HB found high school difficult and was drawn into the open-minded, respectful, and tolerant online furry community as his primary social outlet.

HB developed an interest in hypnosis and dabbled amongst other amateurs online. I suspect that HB’s interest in hypnotism originated from a desire to draw away from life where he was an outcast, to feel closer to the virtual furry world where he was accepted and loved.

After school, HB earned a degree in psychology and, with no interest in becoming a therapist, underwent formal training as a hypnotist. Nowadays, he works as a hypnotist inside furry (as Hypnobeast) in combination with a more traditional practice out in the real world. He has an office but, curiously for a profession that requires a close connection between practitioner and client, prefers to use Skype.

Hypnobeast is his professional virtual furry hypnotist. The Hypnobeast identity allows HB to separate his furry work from his regular practice. It also provides distance from his personal furry identity. This simple idea has proved surprisingly complex… but more on that later.

The cheesy imagery of Hypnobeast – all swinging pendulums and mesmeric spirals – is probably a marketing masterstroke. HB is a little less sure because he only gets exposed to the extreme reactions: either prospective furry clients or those making fun of Hypnobeast’s 1930s-travelling-mesmerist image. But it’s attention-grabbing, fun, and unforgettable.

HB’s marketing may suggest that his style is dazzling and demanding, yet this is not the reality. HB is an Ericksonian hypnotist, which means that his style is friendly and permissive. He will look for, and ask for, regular feedback during a hypnosis session.

He controls the rhythm of his voice and chooses carefully crafted phrases, delivered to guide you into a relaxed state. He does this while reflecting your own words and conversational style, noted during the getting-to-know you chat at the beginning of a session.

Craftsmanship is the value of a professional hypnotist, and HB is a true craftsman of words. HB understands the language of furry introspection.

Early in our chat, HB told me that he is shy, which he immediately disproved by happily chatting away with a relative stranger for the next hour or two. He might be better described as vulnerable, as he reveals a lot of himself in conversation. The rapport between hypnotist and client is all important, and HB’s openness is charming and disarming.

While chatting about his path into becoming a hypnotist, HB was open about his difficult and relatively unhappy adolescence. Throughout school, he coped by disengaging from the world and spending a lot of time inside his own head. Like a lot of people who study psychology, I suspect that HB chose his degree because he was hoping to learn about himself.

Starting up as a professional hypnotist is a difficult task. There are set up costs – insurance, office space, union fees – and no client base. The task is especially difficult because hypnotists are usually focussed on treating a symptom rather than exploring a cause. Most clients will see a hypnotist two or three times. Regular clients (like a therapist might have) are rare.

HB is less interested in hypnotism as a cure. He sees his ideal role as providing relaxation sessions, on the premise that relaxation is good for long-term physical and mental health. And inside the furry community, HB hopes to build up a client base who appreciate the joy of an occasional walk inside their furry body.

It’s tough for anyone looking to be a professional furry and HB is no different. He has found new clients to be rare, and last-minute cancellations to be common. He has found it difficult to market himself in person: he’s attended cons in a professional capacity, but learned that a well-dressed professional hypnotist won’t receive walk-up trade; he’s performed free group hypnosis sessions at Further Confusion and Califur, for which he received positive feedback but little paid follow-up.

HB has had most success by advertising on FA directing people to hypnobeast.com. His current offer – $5 for a first session – is going well, drawing some new clients and increasing his visibility inside the community. But his business has not yet grown to a significant number of paid furry sessions.

And then there is the sex. The trope of hypnotist-as-rapist is common in furry erotica and pornography, and it tests HB’s patience and ethics.

HB isn’t anti-sex, and advocates hypnosis to enhance sex. Hypnosis is commonly used to treat sexual problems – erectile dysfunction, or management of vaginal pain during intercourse are probably the two most common – and also to broaden sexual horizons. This requires utmost professionalism from the hypnotist, to ensure a controlled environment for the client. This does not work well with furries.

One of the strengths of the furry community is its openness towards sex. Furries are okay talking about sex freely but this leads to problems in a therapeutic context. HB has found it challenging to maintain a professional bubble when dealing with sex-related issues: amongst furries, there is a fine line between discussing sex and flirting.

After a few clients who looked to inappropriately cross HB’s professional boundaries, he has become wary of offering such services. Hypnobeast, the character, has been created to provide a professional identity. Professional conduct is important, not just for HB’s integrity but also under the terms of his insurance.

It’s nice to be considered an object of lust. Hypnobeast is such an object in the eyes of many furries, and some have been very direct in suggesting rape-fantasy roleplay. HB has asked me to keep details confidential, but suffice to say that some of the sexual offers he has received via Hypnobeast are surprising in their complexity, scope, and creativity.

HB is a professional and gives short shrift to anyone flirting with/at Hypnobeast. In a lighter moment, he expressed wry frustration that his personal furry characters rarely, if ever, receive such attention. Or, as he puts it: “please, please, stop hitting on Hypnobeast”.

• Hypnobeast is currently offering $5 sessions for new furry clients – see here.

It was suggested by a few folks that it would be good to do a semi-regular feature on some of the wonderful art that may not follow the norm of what’s posted out there.  Today, we’re stepping away from the normal visual art, somewhat, and into the realm of theater, with Sparf’s one-man-show, “What the Fur!? Stories and Text from the Furry Fandom”

This post will differ from the previous art posts in a few ways.  Firstly, rather than providing a sample of a few images with links back to the artist’s gallery, the show as posted to YouTube is embedded below.  I very much recommend watching through the whole thing, as there is so much wonderful involved here.  If you don’t have time now, set aside about half an hour later today to watch through the whole thing.  Additionally, we were lucky enough to have the chance to interview Sparf over email in order to get some more information about the work.  Check it out!

[adjective][species]:
Tell us a little about yourself and your character.

Sparf:
I’m a 29 year old Virginia native living in the Maryland suburbs of Washington DC. I hold an Associates degree in Computer Networking from Mountain Empire Community College, a Bachelor’s in Speech/Theatre with a History minor from East Tennessee State University, and, thanks to this show and 3 years of work, a Master of Fine Arts in Acting from the Catholic University of America. I have been a furry since around 1998, but only really learned a lot about the fandom and became a participating member around 2008; that was the year that I attended my first Anthrocon.

My furry character is a wolf, but green and with some foxlike markings in addition to a black eyepatch. He shares most of my attributes and I often appear in fursuit with a Washington Capitals hockey jersey or a matching lime-green chef’s jacket, or just casual in a hawaiian shirt. He evolved from an older character of mine who had the same markings but was grey and far too serious and gloomy. I figured if I was going to make up a two-legged, walking, talking fursona, why not make him a fancy and fun color too. He embodies positive energy, which is what I really try to pour into this fandom.

The character in my show is an amalgam of myself and stories collected from fandom interviews and given to me by some fellow members of the Furry Writers Guild.

[a][s]:
What made you decide to mix furry and theater into a show like this?

Sparf:
To be honest, I needed a topic for my Master’s thesis, and I went through everything that I could possibly do to play to my strengths. In other words, the things that I was most passionate about, and I realized that one of them was Furry, and that I could help bring some of the really colorful individuals in the fandom to life on stage. And above all, I could do it in a way that would bring a positive light onto the fandom, the public knowledge of which is often a benign ignorance at best, and the occasional sensationalist television special or negative comment by a well-known geek icon at the worst. Plus, something in me wanted to get at the heart of why it is that I myself am in the fandom. What that journey was. And while some of it is fictionalized and some of it incorporates stories from other sources, the core of it, its essence, is just me.

[a][s]:
Does much of theater feel like this, or is that something that is unique to your own performance?

Sparf:
It very much depends on the actor. An actor I recently worked with finds all the mental work to be unnecessary. To him it is a matter of speaking the words as written and the character will reveal itself. I find that in most of my work I do a lot of world building. I create the character’s world in my head during rehearsals and it allows me to go on that journey with them. When it comes time to perform, all of that is reduced to instinct and reaction rather than thought. In other words, I build the structure, and then I let go, trusting it will be there to support the work. But when I am doing good work, when I know that all the pieces are in place, yes, it does feel like that.

[a][s]:
What was the genesis of the show?

Sparf:
I had been reading journals on FurAffinity and someone linked to DogBomb. I read through several journals of his, things he’d done in fursuit at the beach like helping a lost little girl find her parents (I think. Something of that nature), or bringing a smile to the face of someone in a wheelchair. I knew that sort of thing was out there. Here in Maryland/DC/NOVA there is a group called Critters for a Cause that unites folks with mascot-like characters to appear at events and do charity work. I, myself learned the power of these kinds of costumes in brightening someone’s day when I marched with my mate’s church in a local Labor Day parade last year and one of the parishoners’ daughters, maybe 3 or 4 years old at most, without question, came to me, hugged me, and held my hand almost the entire time before the parade began. Later I found out that she would talk about me and my mate (also in costume. His is a tiger), as her animal friends and how she couldn’t wait to see us again.

[a][s]:
Were you nervous at all, performing in suit in front of an audience of (I’m assuming) mostly non-furs?

Sparf:
I was not concerned about performing for non furs so much as I was concerned about performing for members of the clergy that were present as well as the older, potentially more conservative crowd that CUA has the potential to attract. But I also put aside concerns about the audience. When I step on stage my job is to embody the character. And the character harbors none of those concerns.

[a][s]:
Clergy! Wow! What sort of reactions did you get?

Sparf:
The response to my show, as well as the other two of my classmates who performed that day, was overwhelmingly positive. The priests who came were young priests, or, at least, priests of my own age or so. They were friends of classmates that they’d made during our time here. But even so, that collar can be intimidating.

[a][s]:
How do you see theater fitting in with the growing fandom?

Sparf:
I think that it’s among the next logical places for our fandom to grow into. We have a very strong literary element, with 3 major small press publishers, several more smaller ones, and a growing realization that furry literature isn’t automatically garbage. We’ve got steps into the realm of animation (see Wolf or the Out of Position Animatic), and probably more I’m not aware of. There is audio work starting to be done in the fandom now. We have musicians of almost every ilk. Theatre is just one more creative endeavor. The question is, how do we make it ours? Do we do theatre ABOUT furries as a culture, or do we write anthropomorphic characters into plays? Do we adapt old stories by our longtime favorite authors? update the old fable tropes? There’s already some theatre going on. Skits in the masquerades at various conventions, for one thing. There are also the ‘Whose Lion is it Anyway?’ improv games, which come directly or indirectly from the work of Viola Spolin, one of the great innovators of modern theatre.

It does work the other way sometimes. During rehearsals for at least two plays I have performed in my career, we were asked to envision an animal for our character and use that to inform their physicality and ways of speaking. Afterward I tended to do that for most of my roles and it usually helped create a more rounded character. That, to me, was taking furry and putting the fundamental skill of imagination at it fosters and funneling it into another endeavor.

[a][s]:
Lots of good thoughts, here. Regarding your first thought, do you think the few movies that have come out of the fandom in recent years are headed in a good direction?

Sparf:
I think absolutely. Wolf, though a very long way from being finished, is a step in the right direction for animation. Of course, who could forget the landmark film of this past year, Bitter Lake. I very much enjoyed it, and I encourage folks to pick it up to support such efforts in the fandom.

[a][s]:
Secondly, do you think that species selection has much to do with temperament, sort of as a side-effect of the imagination in the fandom?

Sparf:
I would say it does for some, but not all. Some people pick a species because of aesthetics, or because it was their favorite animal. I generally identify with wolves because of some of the similarities between their social behaviors and mine.

[a][s]:
People often say that being in suit is like a performance, and you hint at those aspects in your show. Does fursuiting ever feel like actually being on stage?

Sparf:
To me it does, quite often, feel that way. Which is why I very much try to treat it with respect. The great acting teacher Stanislavsky can be quoted as saying “Let him who does not know the threshold of the stage never cross it,” and in my way I agree with that absolutely. Part of my training in my MFA was in Neutral Mask, the basis of masked performance. We learned the physicality that has been developed from several hundred years of masked-performance tradition, beginning at least as far back as Commedia Dell’Arte. I see myself as one of those Commedia performers, known as Zanni, who were free in interacting with the crowd. But the stage is still there. Not a proscenium stage as we most often think of theatre but a living, 3 dimensional space in which I must portray the character fully. If I don’t do that or am not willing to commit, I don’t step onto the “stage” to begin with.

[a][s]:
Do you have any plans for future shows or performances involving furry?

Sparf:
I have plans to write my existing show out to an hour’s length. There is some material that I cut for time and thematic purposes. I don’t know where or when I will have a chance to perform it, but I still want to. I feel I owe it to the piece. As for other things, I do occasionally do story readings for both the Anthrodreams podcast and the Bad Dog Book Club, and have some other audio projects deep in the works. My first real interest in acting was in voice acting, and I’ve wanted to bring that passion into the fandom as well. I hope to see more theatricality develop as the fandom grows and moves forward, certainly, and I also hope to be involved with it.

It was suggested by a few folks that it would be good to do a semi-regular feature on some of the wonderful art that may not follow the norm of what’s posted out there.  For this post, we’ll be taking a look at Arphalia and her work with ink washes.

 

Zipper by Arphalia

“The ink washes are something I used to do ages ago before I got into the fandom. (I got into the fandom “officially” around 1997 or so but was aware that something called furries existed a few years previous but didn’t have any access to check into the whole scene since I wasn’t online yet.) I had marker phases, ink pen inking phases and a huge (and ongoing) colored pencil phase. Returning to ink wash and watercolor again still feels like a New Thing even while its not.”

Three Happy Orcas by Arphalia

The contrast provided in these simple, monochromatic (or mostly so, as in the case of the center image above) is part of their draw: in many cases, the subject is actually lighter than the background.

Thick Opera by Arphalia

They are not simply images on a page, but images on a texture.

Roots by Arphalia

Check out more of this awesome work on Arphalia’s FA Gallery!

[edited from the original version posted at Kyell's blog]

I wrote a blog post recently about how we shouldn’t be afraid to tell our friends that we’re furries, and I got a thoughtful question on FA. Namely, why bother? It’s just a hobby, right? Do we “come out” as a stamp collector, or a Man United fan, or a Jane Austen fan?

I said in the original post that I didn’t necessarily want to compare coming out as gay with coming out as furry. The first is a preference coded into us at birth which dictates many aspects of how we live if we choose to live with a partner. The second is a not-fully-understood aesthetic appreciation for animal-people that can range in degree from a guy who likes to talk about Looney Tunes cartoons with his friends to a woman who makes a living designing fursuits and wears her own every chance she gets. But it’s telling that when people talk about telling their friends and family that they’re furries, that the phrase coming out is more and more commonly used.

It’s understandable. It means “revealing a part of ourselves that was hidden,” and because gay people were the ones most commonly hiding important parts of their lives well into adulthood, it’s been associated with revealing one’s sexuality. I think that its use in talking about furry is not so much connected to the “hidden” part as it is to the “important” part.

For a lot of people, furry is more than just a hobby; it’s a home. Some people don’t have any other homes; some people are perfectly happy with their family in one setting, with their office “home” in another, with furry in their spare time. What I mean by “home” is a place where you feel safe, where you feel sad to be away from, where some of the closest people in your life reside.

When I was first getting into the furry fandom, I had a friend who came out to his parents and was kicked out of his family. To a lot of guys in their early 20s, that would be devastating, and he was pretty broken up about it. But he had a boyfriend, and he had the furry fandom, a great support network that made sure he always had a friend around and an ear to listen to his troubles. That’s what I mean by a home.

Right now, I have a family who aren’t furries. But most of my closest friends are furries, and when Kit and I got married, the furry stuff was pretty much all over our wedding (because our wedding planner, a non-furry, fell in love with it). I have a furry image of myself as the lock screen on my phone, a furry pic of me and Kit as my phone background, so literally a day doesn’t go by that I don’t see some furry art, and now that I’m making my living from writing – largely in the furry fandom – most days I end up talking to other furries or talking about furries.

If your life is like that, if you have a group of close furry friends, and yet you’re not sharing that part of your life with other people close to you, then you’re hiding something from them. You’re not sharing all of who you are. And that’s fine, honestly; if anything, people these days tend to overshare. But if you want to tell them, and are simply not telling them out of fear that they’ll jump to conclusions, then you’re doing them a disservice. More than that, you are hurting yourself. When you make choices in your life, such as to continue to be part of the furry fandom, and then hide those choices from other people who are important to you, you are telling yourself that you doubt your choices. You are telling yourself that those people would be right if they mocked you for being a furry. That’s not a healthy way to live.

(And yes, there is adult stuff in the fandom. You don’t have to talk about that. What do you do when you go to conventions? What do you talk about online with your furry friends? Are adult pictures and stories really the reason you continue to be part of this community? Or is it the people, the ones you feel you can really open up to, the ones who make you laugh and who talk video games, who have a costume like you or like the same movie/TV show/anime? That’s what you want to talk about. Everyone understands “a group of friends who like the same thing I like.” What you all like is also interesting, but secondary.)

That’s who my original post was aimed at, people who cited the primary reason for hiding their furriness as “I don’t want to be associated with those people in the news.” If you’re a casual furry, or if you’re distant from your family and non-furry friends, then sure, they don’t have to know. But if one of your family, your co-workers, or your friends is trying to get to know you better, and they ask “why’d you go to Pittsburgh?”… well, before you automatically say, “just to see friends” and change the subject, pause for a second and think. Maybe that’s a good time to “come out.” Maybe that’ll help you get closer to the other people in your life. You might have to take a little teasing, but take it with good humor, and it’ll be fine. As I said before, as K.M. and I have said on the podcast and many people have said in many venues over and over: if you act like it’s something to be ashamed of, people will pick up on that. If you act like it’s a cool thing, fun, and a positive part of your life, which I think for most of us it is, then that’s how your friends and family will view it. And isn’t that what we all want?

There is a thick mist surrounding foreign furry fandoms. We Americans are hardly exposed to foreign furry culture beyond the artists we watch on art websites. It’s the reason I wrote an entire article about it. There are shards of content available around the internet. Many foreign artists are on FurAffinity and DeviantArt. Kemonono is an English imageboard that focuses on the Japanese “kemono” art style. However, what we experience is nothing but the art that overseas artists create.

Like any subculture, it’s impossible to understand the foundation by only examining the productions that trickle their way to the surface. (Imagine judging American furries using that method… oh, the horror.) The difficulty lies in finding information about foreigners. The invention of the Internet has been a great boon in that regard, but we still have to deal with language barriers, cultural differences, and, in my case, finding someone who’ll listen to the questions of some stranger from across the world with a weird FurAffinity avatar.

I’m a writer for a furry website, I swear!

Surveys in the past have had issues with reaching international audiences, further complicating things. In order to create an international survey, a series of questions would have to be agreed upon as well as a distribution method, the questions would have to be translated by two translators whose work could be cross-referenced to remove translation errors, and the entire thing would have to be approved by the institutional review board of the sponsoring institution. In short, jumping through hoop after hoop, with an unforeseeable brick wall possibly thrown in at any point.

As a result, foreign furries have been underrepresented in surveys. In the Anthropomorphic Research Project’s International Furry Survey from Summer 2011, non-Americans made up 24.9% of the survey demographic. In Winter 2011, it was 33.03%. Those portions are largely made up of Canadians and Europeans.

However, the cultural differences between Canada, Europe, and America isn’t as strong as the differences between America and the rest of the world. South American responses comprised 0.5% of the Summer 2011 responses and 1.21% of the Winter 2011 responses. Wouldn’t it be fascinating to learn more about the South American furry culture?

Well, too bad! Because, for this article, I’ll be writing about the Japanese furry culture. (Asia was 0.6% in Summer 2011 and 0.98% in Winter 2011, for those statistics junkies out there.) Japan has a special place in the furry fandom stereotyped as “those weird guys who invent the craziest fetishes and those super cute fursuits”, and I decided to do my best in order to learn more about them, past all the stereotypes and generalizations.

Japanese fursuits: 10 parts “faux fur”, 90 parts “adorableness”.

In order to do so, I had to cross that huge invisible wall separating the American furries from the Japanese. Fortunately, that was no big deal, because someone’s already done that. His name is Yoshinomi, and he’s been to Anthrocon three times now. His English isn’t bad at all and he was very receptive to my slew of questions, derived from discussions with others about the subject. I also received some tertiary input from mick39 (made famous for inventing the Sergal species). I’ll summarize their responses to each question.

“Furmeets”, small gatherings of 10-40 or 50 furries, usually at a furry’s house, are popular in America. Do those exist in Japan, and if so, are they prevalent?

Furry gatherings don’t normally take place in host homes. Most planners have meets for friends, taking care to avoid problematic furries, and host them in meeting rooms, karaoke rooms, and the like. This makes sense. Japan has a much lower average housing size than American homes (close to a third the average square footage). Tokyo, where over a quarter of the population of Japan lives, has the highest population density in the world (almost four times as much as New York City). Meeting somewhere public probably allows for more space and a more interesting venue. The “meets” are inherently smaller, as well. Mick39 suggested 2-10 people.

How important is sexuality to Japanese furries?

Of course I had to ask this one. It’s a broad question, but the answers were very enlightening. Of course people like adult art and such but it isn’t discussed in public, even at meetings or conventions where people who aren’t interested could be present. The furries involved in “yiffy” chatter on twitter and such end up on the butt end of rumors. Fursuit crossdressing (males in female suits) aren’t a big deal, though, as long as it isn’t prominently sexual (huge boobs, bondage stuff, etc.)

Japan’s oldest and largest convention, Kemocon.

Is there a skew towards gay/bisexuals in the fandom like there is in the American fandom?

Many furries are gay/bisexual, just as they are here, but it isn’t shown as much as it is in America. Hookups are heard to be arranged over the Internet but only in private.

How do Japanese furries see the American furries? What do they think of us?

Another broad question. Since Yoshinomi is a fursuiter, he had more to say about the difference in fursuiters. The conception is that the majority of American furries order their suits elsewhere instead of creating them themselves and that even if someone’s wearing an ugly fursuit they’re generally pretty nice about it. Good stuff, I suppose. Mostly, American furries are just as mysterious to the Japanese as they are to us due to the language barrier. It was mentioned that some use FA and other generally American websites but at large the Americans are very separate.

Do furries in Japan have a strong internet presence? How important is social networking over the internet?

My favorite response! The popular thing for Japanese furries a few years back is a Japanese website called “mixi”. Mixi is a social networking site that started in 2004. In May 2008 it had an 80% share of the social networking market in Japan with over 21.6 million users. However, apparently the website started copying the nuances of Facebook and most furries ended up migrating to Twitter. It isn’t the best way to find information on conventions and such, but that information is easily available elsewhere. Pixiv, of course, is an important player as well. Pixiv, a Japanese online art community, was started in 2007, currently has over 4 million members, 24 million submissions, and receives over 2.8 billion views per month.

What differences do you think there are in the artistic styles of Japanese and American furries?

Much wasn’t said in response to this. The art style is very close to Japanese anime and the style is very prevalent in Japanese artists.

I’m pretty sure “anime-inspired” is a fair cop.

What does the fandom mean to you?

Another loaded question. The first part of the response was a clarification on the term for a “furry” in Japan. They call themselves “Kemoner”, a portmanteau of “Kemono” and “-ner”, basically “one who participates in”. (For the curious: “?” = “Kemono” = “beast”. “????” is the fully written term for “Kemoner”, pronounced “Ke-mo-na”.) It’s mentioned that the usual fun stuff is great, fursuiting and making friends and all, but some furries are problematic. The overall experience, of course, is “exciting”. It’s noted that it’s a significant part of their lives.

What does the fandom mean to those in your region/locally?

Yoshinomi mentioned making a friend nearby on FurAffinity, so it’s been a blessing in that way. The question wasn’t discussed much beyond that.

How is furry seen as by non-furries in Japan?

Visibility of furries to non-furries is low in Japan compared to America. Yoshinomi is a part of a volunteer group who wears fursuits at a zoo (comparable to many similar such groups here in America). The crowds tend to like the mascot suits (similar to here) but he fears that knowing that the wearers are “furries” might cast a kind of shadow on their group. (“Gross and weird” were his exact words.)

What do people do in fursuit in Japan? Community activities? Furmeet activities? Just private/conventions?

Basically, at volunteer services, but sometimes at cons and private meetings as well. Pretty standard.

Bowling: the standard international furry social glue.

How are fursuits different in Japan from America?

Radywolf and Mahiro are cited as “the base of Japanese fursuits”. Yoshinomi mentioned liking cartoony American fursuits since anime-like Japanese fursuits tend to be copies of the really good builders. However, he mentions that he hears from Americans that American suits are just copies of the good builders as well. (Basically, this is an American summary of a Japanese impression from an American on other American suits. Woah!) In addition, it was mentioned in the responses that Japanese fursuits were “two or three steps behind” American suits. Them’s fighting words!

And, there you have it. Similarities and differences abound due to the difference in culture and location, as anyone could have expected. Some of the answers were very intriguing. I had never heard of Mixi before these responses and I had never considered that the difference in Japanese housing would factor into their furry fandom.

Ideally, I’d like to ask these questions to more furries from around the world where the difference of the local culture can influence the growth of the furry fandom. The unexpected answers here only encourage the notion that not only is there significant differences in other furry cultures but that the differences can be unique and utterly fascinating.

Plus, it gives me an awesome excuse to post really cool art and pictures from foreign cultures!

References:

• https://sites.google.com/site/anthropomorphicresearch/past-results/international-furry-survey-summer-2011
• https://sites.google.com/site/anthropomorphicresearch/past-results/international-online-furry-survey-2011
• http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Housing_in_Japan
• http://www.infoplease.com/askeds/us-home-size.html
• http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_metropolitan_areas_by_population
• http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Japan
• http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mixi
• http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pixiv
• http://www.kemonono.com/kemono/res/6492.html
• http://pastebin.com/hYr75FnF - “yoshinomi’s answers”

Food, like sex, sometimes has a complex political subtext.

The politics of food made from animals can be especially complex. There are ethical, environmental, moral, and health arguments for and against the consumption of meat.

There are also gender issues associated with meat consumption: why is meat, particularly red meat, associated with masculinity? For example, check out these adverts from Australia, the UK, and the US: all satirical, and all accept the premise that masculinity is inexorably connected with meat consumption. Some feminists believe this connection reinforces objectification of women, arguing that it casts women as the passive supplier of flesh, and men as the active devourer.

Regardless of your own point of view, this seemingly simple basic need for the sustenance of life – the need to eat – has become a complex political subject.

And it’s complicated further if you’re a furry. If you identify as an animal person, it’s impossible to ignore that we live in a world where animals are commodities.

Furries tend to celebrate their animal identity in varied and creative ways. Most furries create an alternate personality – an anthropomorphic animal avatar – and accept this identity as a version of themselves. We furries ‘become’ this identity, because we act like we genuinely are our avatar. This belief in our alternate self makes our furry identity real.

Our day-to-day actions are often interpreted through the lens of our furry identity. This extends to the food we eat. So a furry who identifies as a carnivore might enjoy eating meat. Or perhaps a meat-lover might choose to identify as a carnivorous species.

The arguments for and against meat consumption can be summed up succinctly: meat eating is bad because it causes suffering; meat eating is good because it’s tasty and a societal norm.

These points of view (both of which are valid and true) can be given a furry twist. A carnivore furry might be drawn towards eating the natural prey of his species, such as a cheetah with a taste for venison. Or a vegetarian might make a connection with their herbivorous avatar. And if your furry species is available for human consumption… it gets complicated.

The four most common furry species available for human consumption are listed below. This data, as ever, comes from the Furry Survey.

• dog, 8.4% of furries
• rabbit, 2.7% of furries
• horse, 1.4% of furries
• kangaroo, 1.0% of furries

All other species commonly consumed by humans are chosen by less than 1% of furries. The full league table can be found on an old Livejournal post of mine, here.

Some of these furries go out of their way to eat their spirit animal. I can personally think of two examples: a friend of mine once species-hopped to kangaroo largely because of his affinity for roo meat; and a deer friend who was thrilled to find venison ham for sale.

But for other furries, eating their spirit animal is taboo. In many cases, the reason for their revulsion is closely tied to their choice of species in the first place. For people who work or live with animals, and feel a strong affinity for them based on that social experience, the idea of eating those animals can be akin to cannibalism.

It’s also common for the taboo meat to be one that is not normally culturally considered to be food. It’s especially likely where the species in question is normally thought of as a pet or companion animal. In western-centric furry circles, this often applies to dog meat and horse meat.

Horse is a common meat in France and Japan, among other places around the world. Dog is a common meat in parts of Asia and Africa.

The ethics of raising dogs or horses for meat is no different from other animals. Whenever an animal is raised as a commercial enterprise, there will sometimes be a conflict between the best interests of the animal and the greatest profit. Sometimes the best interests of the animal will come second. This is true even where the animals are not being raised for meat: it’s true whenever there is a profit motive, including work animals (such sheepdogs) and animals raised for sport (such racehorses).

This ethical argument does not apply when there is no commercial interest, such as raising a pet.

There is suffering involved in the raising and slaughtering of any animal. There is no reasonable argument that raising horses or dogs for meat is ‘bad’, but raising, say, cows or pigs is ‘okay’. Horses and dogs are domesticable and intelligent, but so are pigs: pigs can be domesticated as pets or as work animals (truffle farming for example).

The commonly-held taboo on whale meat is similarly flawed. Whale is eaten in Japan, Norway, Iceland, and elsewhere. The arguments against whale hunting and consumption are hypocritical unless you are applying the same arguments to mainstream meats.

The arguments against whale meat can be roughly condensed into:

• Whales are intelligent creatures who suffer during the hunt. (It’s likely that more suffering is caused by pig farming, as they are very intelligent and often subject to poor conditions during life.)
• Whales are endangered due to overfishing. (Much like many fish species around the globe.)

I’ve always thought that arguments against consuming whale, much like arguments against consuming dog (or horse), often smack of racism. Firstly, I don’t think people would hold such opinions if they lived in a culture where whale or dog meat is the norm. Secondly, the argument is often framed such that the target (eg Japanese for whale; Koreans for dog) is presented as a barbaric ‘other’, a subtle dehumanizing practice common to much racist hatespeak.

That said, there is no problem with having an aversion to the idea of eating a particular type of animal. The emotional response associated with eating your spirit animal can be particularly strong. For many people, this is an important part of being a furry.

There is no requirement for any personal choice to be irrefutably logical, be it religion or politics or attitude towards food. It’s natural to think of one’s self as rational, but this is wrong: we are animals and therefore driven by basic survival instincts. There is only one requirement for a personal choice: don’t try to enforce your choice on other people.

Like many of those who who identify as members of the furry fandom, I joined at a relatively young age.  I was reminded of this, recently, when a friend from years ago came out to visit, this last weekend.  When he and I were talking most frequently, that was eleven or twelve years ago, which would’ve made me (gulp) fourteen or fifteen.  I’ve been dwelling on that point for the last few days, as I worked up the outline of the rest of this article, and things finally fell into place when I consider who I was and where I was in life at that time.  I was young, for sure, and just getting into the whole furry thing, watching artists on Yerf and VCL (and Side7 and Elfwood, oh man…) create these awesome drawings, most of which seemed to be spur of the moment things, or works of art created for the sake of creating art.  Some, however, were commissions, and that was something I just could not fathom.

An artist – someone I didn’t even know – would draw whatever I told them. For money!

It boggled the mind, to be sure.  I found the concept amazing, and spent all of thirty seconds researching the idea before noticing the price of a commission: $50.  At the time, I made that much in two months of allowance.  Once I could drive, my allowance went up, but then I was expected to pay for my own gas as I drove back and forth a few times a week between my mom’s and dad’s houses in the decidedly fuel inefficient junker I had been lent.  It wouldn’t be until I was a few years into college that I paid an artist for a commission of my character.

Money plays a not insignificant part in our fandom.  While art was, for a while, the thing that everyone tried, there was still a growing, core group of artists that provided much of the output and garnered much of the attention by offering a steady stream of commissions and filling our VCL feeds, at first, and then our FA watch lists.  For those who are unable to draw their characters to their own satisfaction, all it took was a few bucks, or a few hundred, dropped on a commission, a short, or long, wait, et voila, your character in a visible format to share with the world.  The financial transactions became more pronounced as fursuiting began to gain in popularity, as the core group manufacturing some of the most visible fursuits was even smaller, and the price point higher.  Finally, conventions offer their own unique financial burden for those involved, whether it’s simply the cost of attending one’s local convention or the price of airfare halfway around the world to attend a con in another country.

However, there seems to be some additional doxa surrounding money within the furry fandom.  The “poor fur versus the rich fur”, for example, is a trope that plays itself out regularly in the comments on images and journals on FurAffinity, particularly on the post of an artist offering commissions.  It usually begins with an “I would, but I can’t afford it” comment, and can often spiral into an argument from there.  Much has been written on this in the past, as this seems to stem from the idea of the poor envying the rich and the lifestyle that they represent, but in this case, the leisure either perceived or imagined, takes the format of numerous commissions, a fursuit, and regular attendance at popular conventions.

This ties into another example of the layers of meaning around money within the fandom: being judged on the amount and status of one’s material possessions, usually in the form of commissions.  A good example would be the non-artist who commissions countless pieces and reposts them all to FA, garnering followers and social status by spending money.  That is, of course, a cynical way of looking at it, and perhaps a more kind-hearted explanation is that the individual is very much into the visual representation of their character, and has the money to spend to make that happen.  Either way, the fact that the idea of a member of the fandom gaining social standing by purchasing drawings of themselves, as it were, points to the fact that this is something we take into account on some level when interacting with those around us.  After all, if someone has plentiful drawings of their character in a myriad of styles, it’s certainly easier to picture interacting with them in some sort of furry world during RP, to name only one perceived benefit.

The idea goes beyond just the consumers, however, and extends even to the creators.  We all know the overextended artist, ever taking more commissions without finishing the previous batch, their work-load piling up as they offer reassurances with one hand and sketch-stream commissions with the other.  Or there is also the under-priced artist, who has decided on $5 as a good price for a sketch, $10 for color, $15 for shaded despite the obvious quality of their work and the time spent on it.  There are countless additional tropes involving the artist and the role they play with the audience and their patrons, however, and many surround the idea of money within the fandom.

“So what, you ridiculously wordy fox?” I hear you saying.  ”What’s the big deal?  We’re a subculture dominated by westerners, and those western types tend to be capitalists; is it really so surprising that money would play a large factor in our fandom?”

Well, no, it’s not surprising in and of itself.  Within a western capitalist society, money is exchanged for goods or services in order to represent a fair trade for work performed.  To extend that into our own social group is only second nature: we offer money in return for the work of rendering our characters visually, for a costume that we can put on in order to act the part, or for the chance to go visit hundreds (or thousands – hey folks at AC!) of like-minded individuals in one spot for a wonderful weekend or two a year.

What is interesting, however, is the complex interaction between cash-money and social currency, which features prominently in our interactions.  I’m not kidding when I say “complex”, either.  Social currency and financial currency are two topics that are, on the surface, linked: by creating something worth buying, you are, in effect, making something which has improved your social standing.  Capitalist societies don’t necessarily work this way, of course, and so the relationship between the two exists in a sort of tension revolving around worth: “is this worth something?”, “am I worth what I’m paid?”, “what worth would I gain by having more images of a fox-man I claim is me?”.  Rather, it’s likely more instructive to examine the ways in which money aids and hinders social currency within the fandom.

The number one way in which having more money would aid one’s social standing is by being a party to the act of creation.  The root concept of a commission is that of two parties, the artist and the patron, working together to create an item worth something by each contributing something of worth.  For the artist, this is their talent, skill, and time; and for the patron, it is their ideas and character or characters – the subject matter.  Money changes hands, here, and social currency is boosted.  The purpose of the money is to offer something in exchange for the patron’s boost in social currency; the artist can create their own by producing works that are not commissions, such as their own personal art or art to sell in one form or another.

Perhaps a more simple example, however, is the convention.  For a convention, the attendee is willing to exchange money for social interaction.  Social interaction of any kind works into one’s social standing, and increasing the outlets and venues for that interaction helps to diversify one’s standing.  It always helps to prove that one is not simply some sort of program on the Internet, nor a meat popsicle incapable of interacting with others.

Where does money hinder social currency, then?  Well, one of the primary ways in which the two oppose each other is the increased divisiveness that is inherently part of a financial class-structure.  The whole rich/poor distinction can be taken on an individual basis and split further into richer-than-me/poorer-than-me and does play a factor in our lives no matter how much we intend to keep it at bay.  Being able to interact effectively across perceived financial boundaries is part of learning to live within a hierarchy, after all. Within the fandom, this shows its face in myriad ways: the artist who takes on several inexpensive commissions to make rent, the fan who overspends in order to be able to attend a convention, or even the aforementioned comments on commission posts about not having enough money and the wrangles that ensue.

Beyond that,however, financial and social currency do not map exactly onto each other.  That is, a monetary expenditure is not correlated one hundred percent with a social currency gain.  At times, it can seem to be the opposite – when one first gets a commission from an artist of some renown, the number of page-views skyrockets, new faves, new watches, and new comments all seem to come in a flood.  However, comparing that with the faves, comments, and views of some other commissioners, even of the renowned artist’s post of the same image, can be a little disheartening.  It’s in our nature to compare, as was mentioned, and noting that our own meager following seem to be the only ones appreciating our post as compared to that of the artist shows what appears to be a disparity in gain: we gained our social status through our financial contribution, and it’s up to us to ensure that the gain was worth the money we spent.

This division of worth is a complex and difficult one to understand, of course, and I know that I am oversimplifying greatly here by leaving out aspects such as personal and aesthetic worth gained from things such as commissioned art and fursuits, not to mention the intensely personal gain experienced from seeing a loved one at a convention felt by many.  However, it was enough to broach the subject: money is one of those strangely simple ideas that has grown strangely complex ancillary meanings over time, and the concept is not made any simpler by pitting it against the nuances of social standing and currency that are so important within our subculture.

There is still room to explore, of course.  Without spoiling too much of what I have planned, I would like to explore both the concept of business and its interaction with our subculture – whether it’s a furry business or a non-furry business targeting furries – as well as more from the creator’s side of the trade, and what all it means to take money in order to produce a representation of someone else’s character.  An exchange, whether of trust and social standing or of simple monetary funds, is a complicated thing, and we are continually carving out our own niche, making our own markets, and coming across our own problems in that arena.

When a non-fur asks for an example of what the “furry fandom” is, you show them convention websites or furry social sites. When a non-fur asks what a furry is, you show them a picture of an anthropomorphic animal. The most integral and fundamental part of the fandom is its artwork. Furry artwork serves many purposes within the fandom, and for every purpose there are artists focused on that form of design. Convention posters, story illustrations, popular media, and personal art, both custom and non-custom, are just some of the uses for which “furry” artwork is created.

Within the realm of personal anthropomorphic pics, there are plenty of ways to acquire your own artwork.  All you have to do is consider what sort of art you’re interested in, where it will be shown, and a budget. Most furries nosing around the art-o-sphere are searching for custom commissions. They can start by considering whether they’re looking for traditional or digital art. Traditional art is created with physical media like colored pencils, watercolors, and even oil paint. Digital art is created using any number of the digital art suites available on the Internet.

There’s a separation between two different kinds of artistic production: functional and aesthetic. The distinction is more important than the fandom might consider. In order to explore this idea, let me give a quick run-down on the history of creative art during arguably the most important artistic era of all time: the Renaissance.

In pre-Renaissance Italy “artists” as we know of it were virtually unheard of. The creators of “art” were artisans, members of a low social class. Artisans were purely craftsmen. They were highly skilled and experienced in their work, which was either functional or decorative: furniture, jewelry, tools, and the like. As a sort of retaliation from the stagnation during the dark ages, painters and sculptors began gaining social status as the general populace finally gained the ability to fund art for their own use. A scientific examination of artistic creation flourished during this time, as optics, geometry, and anatomy were all explored, and “art” finally became an intellectual, theoretical practice.

As a result of the new-found esteem of art for art’s sake, the upper class of Renaissance Italy began funding portraits as a show of their wealth and nobility. The Catholic Church was also a heavy patron of art in this era, notably the work of Michelangelo. Finally, artists and artisans were a separate group. Those who were skilled in smaller, functional work were a different social class than those who were creating aesthetic pieces for a higher nobility.

“Ginevra de’ Benci” by Leonardo da Vinci, c. 1474.15 x 15 inches, oil on panel. Ginevra was an intelligent aristocrat born in Florence in 1458.

Why the historical ramble? The results of the artist/artisan divide echoes in the furry fandom. Consider what function furry artwork fulfills. Badges seem to be the best example of functional artwork. Every badge is a new work, in its own right, but they’re generally smaller and less intricate than what one would consider an art piece. They’re also geared towards utility: they’re something you use to identify yourself in a crowd.

Conventions prominently feature work commissioned from individuals for promotion. Posters, convention book covers, fliers, even custom name tags have been created for conventions as both decoration and to serve a purpose. Some conventions even have mascots which are drawn by new artists each year. Custom t-shirt designs are created for many larger cons. Reference sheets are also significantly functional. While they commonly express a good artistic pose and view or two of a single character, they are above all designed to give viewers a better idea of the character.

As a contrast, consider personal artistic commissions. While badges are usually from $5-$30, digital commissions can go upwards of $100. In addition, physical sketches and original works can cost up to hundreds of dollars. Custom commissions of physical media have run just as high. “Furry” has also branched out into the world of actual crafts. A quick lap around the furry marketplace will yield tons of creative craftwork: tails, ears, hats and accessories, embroidery, plushies, even custom pottery. Many furries are finding innovative ways to use different crafts to express animal anthropomorphism.

“Eyes of the Night” by GoldenWolfen. 22 x 40 inches, acrylic on illustration board. Sold at auction at Further Confusion in 2004 for $10,000. Said to be the highest selling furry media in the fandom to date.

As an artist, you have to consider the same question writers consider: Who is my audience? Or, better yet, a more philosophical: “Why am I creating this?” The furry consumer, so to speak, will often settle into a creative need on their own. A badge to use at conventions? A reference sheet to use in roleplay? A tasteful piece to hang in your living room? A motif you want to see your character interacting with? The consumer comes up with an idea. This translates to a need, and the artist has to consider what sort of consumer need they’ll be working towards.

Are all furry artists created equal? Not necessarily. Some will create valuable and intricate artwork that takes dozens of hours and some will create simple doodles. All is labeled “art”, and all creators are labeled “artists”. However, for the sake of our own insight, consideration of the “artisan” might still be relevant. It adds to our understanding of the furry art dynamic. The end result of the Renaissance art movement is a great model for how furries create arts and crafts today.

One of the things I’ve noticed more and more as I continue to grow up – not sure I’d call myself a grown-up, yet – is the way in which the divisions in our life become both less clear and more profuse as time goes on.  I think my first intimation of this came at about the time I was finishing up middle school (8th grade, in my district), and started secretly reading up on this whole “gay” thing, on the suspicion that I might fall into that category.

It wasn’t a really easy thing for me to accept about myself at the time, as I suppose it rarely is for a kid in the southwest States.  Colorado is a unique state in that, while much of its area is of a more conservative, Christian character and not generally accepting of homosexuality, there is a stretch that goes from about Fort Collins on down south of Denver along the front range that tends to be more socially liberal and less religiously oriented overall, and certainly more open to differences in sexual orientation than the surrounding areas.  I spent a lot of time growing up in that front-range area where most of those around me likely would’ve been okay if I had come out, and some of them would have probably rushed to tell me just how okay it is to be gay: Boulder, as a town, is almost intrusively cool with it.  Even so, there was this sensation that if I were to leave the Denver-Boulder area, I would be immediately be set upon by both protesters and perpetrators of hate crimes both.

What can I say, I was a dramatic kid.

That’s why I started reading about it more and more.  I started to look into my preconception that there was this line drawn around my home cities in fat sharpie on the map, with the insides colored pink, and the outsides a horrible, soul-sucking blackness.  That sense didn’t jive with what I started to experience at school, middle school being a particularly difficult portion of life to deal with.  There were kids in school would would, it seemed, readily beat me up for being gay, and there were people whom I met from outside of Boulder that seemed perfectly reasonable and nice about the whole thing.  Of course, the whole concept didn’t stand up to the slightest bit of scrutiny as soon as I started to look outside of my personal experience.

My big breaking point, however, came when I found the Kinsey scale, which divides sexual orientation into seven degrees, from 0 – Completely Heterosexual to 6 – Completely Homosexual.  Before then, bisexuals were something of a myth to me, and much of that was due to the way I originally came out when I frequented forums as a kid.  One started bi as a way to test the waters, see if everything was alright, and then one jumped in with a big “ha ha oh just kidding I was gay the whole time”.  Anyone who stayed bisexual, I was told, just wanted to have sex with guys, whether they were male or female.  Such was life in the middle of America as a pre-teen, I guess.

Once I had found the Kinsey scale, though, things changed drastically.  It wasn’t just that the scale had been named after and promoted by a man with a ‘Dr.’ in front of his name, though that certainly helped, and it wasn’t just that the scale was built so that there was a number in the center without having the maximum value be an odd number (as a child, I had an irrational hatred of odd numbers).  Rather, it was that there was such a thing as a non-binary aspect to this portion of my existence.  I had been, until then, convinced through the doxa I was immersed in and my own lucubration that there really were only two choices in life: male and female, gay and straight, hamburger and cheeseburger.

After that, my interest only grew.  I can’t honestly say that I jumped directly into the study of non-binary modes expression and identification, but as I continued on to high school and even beyond, into college, I kept finding things that were not as simple as I had previously imagined them to be.  I suppose everyone goes through such a period in their life, but for me, it always seemed to come back to that original “discovery” that much of which we assume to be binary through the workings of social doxa or our own incomplete comprehension of the matter is, in fact, a gradient, a cline, a continuum.

The next big stepping stone for me, in terms of comprehension, came after I started to read up more and more about gender disparity and transgender issues, for even though I dated a wonderful trans guy in high school, I still had little to go on in terms of really trying to understand those issues.  I understood the whole concept of gender identity versus biological sex, and I even had some inkling to there being some sense of non-duality through my scant interactions (at that point), with intersex and hermaphroditic individuals; however, some portion of my mind kept catching on the snag that there really were only two sexes and two gender identities, and that transgender folk simply had a mismatch somewhere in there.

The actual moment came when I found a funny looking poster of a stick figure (which I wasn’t able to find, exactly, but here is the closest I came up with) which described not only biological sex and gender identity as gradients, but also gender expression, along with the familiar sexual orientation.  ”Whoa,” I thought, “Here I was going about this all wrong, and in much the same way as before!”.  It wasn’t so much that I had rediscovered gradients in life, as that I really started to comprehend the multidimensional nature of what is often taken for granted, if not declared outright to be the norm.  Gender, when I was growing up, meant boy and girl, penis and vagina, the simplest explanation.  When I started to get older, I started to understand that there was such a thing as gender separate from biological sex, but only in a psychopathological context, when they did not match up and it caused identity issues.  It took a goofy stick figure poster to knock me into the sense that there were multifarious dimensions to what had previously been a relatively simple concept for me to understand, insofar as I was capable of doing so.  I was A. Square finally comprehending that there was a third, possibly even a fourth dimension.

In both of these instances – discovering gradients and discovering new dimension in definition – I found myself applying these new-found ways of looking at things to the world around me.  I was lucky, though, in that the world around me took place largely online in the form of interacting with animal people.  The benefits of interacting online so much are myriad, but the two most pertinent ones are that I was a) able to do research quickly and easily and b) able to investigate the “paper trail” that I and so many others had left behind.  In short, my almost subconscious reaction to learning these new things was to immediately try to apply them to furry.

Like all such slippery concepts, I wound up going down quite a few blind alleys, barking up a quite a few empty trees, and several other appropriate metaphors too numerous to list here.  I tried to apply these concepts either too liberally, or not liberally enough, to the world around me and found some ways in which they were more helpful than not in explaining the ways in which I and others interacted with the fandom and with our own understandings of or identifications with anthropomorphics.

In fact, in the last paragraph, I touch on at least two very important gradients and dimensions of character that have come up time and time again: anthropomorphics and, for many, identification with a subculture built off this interest in anthropomorphic art, role playing, and character creation.  Within those, as within all aspects of membership and identity, are at least three different dimensions making up one’s association: interest, participation, and creation.  Interest, of course, is how much one is interested in such a thing, how much they read up on it, how much they take in.  Participation, on the other hand, is how much that person actively integrates themselves into the thing they are interested in: creating an account on FA, browsing art, favoriting images, watching artists, leaving comments.  Finally, there’s the aspect of creation.  Beyond simple participation, this is the means by which someone can contribute, give back, post to FA, and gain the participation of others in turn.  All of these may be thought of as gradients, where the levels with which one may show interest, participate, and offer up unique creations.

These are, of course, just simple examples of the varying dimensions and gradients with which one can interact with the fandom, of course, and there are just as many, if not more ways to identify with anthropomorphic animals outside of just the furry fandom.  As I was writing all this, I started to think that, in at least one way, it all sounded familiar.  It took me a moment to place where, but the further back I looked in my past, the closer it seemed to get until finally, I remembered.  FurCodes.

With how much time I spent thinking about those things, it’s remarkable that I was unable to really internalize the whole concept of gradients and dimensions in so many aspects of my life (no one ever accused me of having an over-abundance of intelligence).  These simple, one-line codes of letters and symbols are an accurate summary of much of what I was talking about just a few paragraphs up.  For every thing in our life that we take to be black or white, true or false, totally binary, there is a good chance that it is not nearly so simple, but embodies a full spectrum of hues, saturations, and values.  I plowed through the process of creating a code again and came up with the following, answering relatively truthfully:

FCA3amr A- C++ D+ H+ M++ P R T W+ Z Sm+ RLCT a cl+++ d! e++ f+ h+++ iwf+++ j+ p+ sm+

None of this should really be of any surprise, of course, but a few things caught my eye and offer a good example to prove my final point.  It feels as though it has been a really long time since Zines and Doom have felt pertinent, and the division of age into entire decades seems almost quaint these days.  Age, it seems, has not exactly treated the FurCode very well.  That is the final, most important of gradients or dimensions out there to take into account: time.  All of the things I have mentioned so far in this post – sexuality, gender, association with the fandom and anthropomorphics – and really most everything out there has this aspect of time tied to it that is so rarely thought about.  All of the things that we hold to be solid and true in life are tied to time in one way or another (some of which seem a little surprising).

I was dead-set, utterly convinced that I was straight, then that I was gay, and for a period after that, that I was bi.  I was totally comfortable in my gender in terms of how it matched up with my biological sex, and then I was thrown into a whirlwind of confusion.  I was definitely sure that I would always have a ‘Zine or two pertaining to the fandom, that I would always be a wizard on a MUCK, that I would always be FCFp3dwa.

Clearly, this isn’t the case.  Time is a tricky thing, and yet, if I take a step back and take a look at the trajectory of my membership to the fandom and my association with anthropomorphics, I have no trouble in understanding or even appreciating that time is just another dimension of character, whether literally in the sense that my character is constituted of various different aspects of myself at a particular time, or more metaphorically, that time is a part of defining my sense of character.

There are so many different dimensions and gradients in character, and within association to the fandom and to one’s personal character or characters.  I’ve listed a few, such as species and time, or the means of interaction that we have with the fandom, whether it’s interest, participation, or creation.  What other aspects are there?  Are any of these particularly pertinent in your own situation?  I’d like to see some comments with some of your own stories as to what dimensions you’ve found important in your lives, and what things have surprised you by being a sliding scale instead of a duality.

(time as the most important dimension and gradient out there)

* For those who are curious, here is my code decoded.

Spirituality is one of those slippery words that can be ridiculously hard to pin down.   I’ve found that you can usually tell when one of those is coming up by looking at the length of it’s Wikipedia article, as odd as that sounds.  If the article can basically get right to the point and then spends the rest of the time exploring fine details such as history, examples, and important figures, then the topic is not likely very complex to define.  If it wanders down a long path, peppered with links, is topped with a sidebar and tailed by a category box…well, needless to say that Spirituality‘s Wikipedia article is a prime example of a “difficult topic”.

It really seems to come down to the fact that spirituality means different things to different people, has to do with the search for meaning in things that we don’t understand and don’t seem to be explainable by science, and is self-referential: numinous things are spiritual, spirituality has to do with numinous things.  While my gut instinct tells me that the concept of a spiritual fur has been on the decline in recent years, I still see and hear mention of it quite frequently, in some form or another.  Us spiritual animals have rich histories to draw on, adopt, and appropriate, not to mention the ones we create for ourselves, and we seem to have done so with a will.

“Spiritual” can be used to describe many things, and means many different things to different people, of course.  To some it’s a way or means of exploring issues or answering questions to which they do not have an answer, and to others it’s more of an adjective attached to things that are inexplicable, and yet to others it’s a state of being they maintain throughout their lives.  In general, though, it all seems to have to do with meaning.  I’ve gone on (and on and on) about the importance of meaning as it pertains to furries, and, as part of my preparation for writing this article, I went back through my notes.  As I did so, it became clear that this fixation on meaning involved with spirituality is thoroughly tangled up with furry.  After all, what would be more obvious as we investigate the meaning of creating an avatar of ourselves as some other species than to consider the spiritual side?

I must add the caveat that spirituality is by no means a universal with those that identify or are interested in furries and anthropomorphics.  In fact, atheists and agnostics seem to outnumber those who identify with a particular spiritual path such as Christianity or paganism.  This is, of course, referring only to responses on a survey to a question utilizing the word ‘religion’ rather than spirituality, and in this respect, my gut feeling is that it’s fairly accurate.  However, I do get the feeling that many who may have responded with ‘atheist’ or ‘agnostic’ might still feel, in some way, spiritual.  I, for example, fall within the agnostic slice of that pie (or, well, doughnut), yet still can’t deny experiences that I could only call spiritual, at least at the time.  This, along with similar sentiments held by several friends, is harder to quantify, yet still a valid point to make: our reactions to the unknown and our explorations of meaning go beyond simply the actions taken to explore those things, touching also our emotional and intellectual outlook on life.

Of all of the spiritual influences within the furry fandom, two seem to be far, far more prevalent than any others: the loose-weaved generalization of “Native American” spirituality and some aspects of Japanese spirituality.  The former may well have been a product of the ’80s and ’90s, when many of those who responded to Klisoura’s survey were born, and which featured, among other things, a spike or resurgence of interest in Native American spirituality.  The reason that I mentioned this as a loose-weaved generalization and then put “Native American” in quotes is that it is difficult to pin down “Native American” spirituality to just one tribe; rather, it seems to be a collection of influences from several North and South American tribes (some notable ones being the Chippewa, from whence came much of the writings on Totemism; many tribes more focused on shamanism as it’s traditionally described through central America, with a focus on Power or Spirit Animals; and down into the South American continent, which provides art and architecture from the Inca and the like).  Many furries who incorporate elements of these spiritual origins into their own lives seem to do so because of the draw provided by the very concept of Totemism: the fact that one might have a power animal, that one might share aspects of that animal’s personality or physical attributes, and that one might draw personal or spiritual power from such a totem provides a clear draw for those interested in anthropomorpics.

On the other side of the world, however, the Japanese have amassed a large amount of folklore surrounding many different animals.  The tales that surround foxes and the native raccoon dogs (N. procyonoides) in the most pertinent forms of kitsune and tanuki are those that are most familiar to the western-dominated furry subculture.  These two in particular, but other supernatural beings (y?kai) related to animals such as the Beckoning Cat (maneki neko) have crept into western culture through various media outlets, and specifically into the popular furry fandom through the crossover links with the anime fandom.  With their connotations of shapeshifting, of being in a relationship, and of animals interacting with the world around them in supernatural ways, it’s unsurprising that the fandom would draw much from these.

These, of course, are only two examples of the way spirituality and folklore have influenced the furry fandom and woven ties deep into our subculture, influencing everything from the ways we feel about our connection to animals to something as simple (well, “simple”) as character creation.  Many of the most popular species out there are related in some way to a species that is important to at least one culture in a spiritual way.  Wolves have their legends in both North America and Europe, horses have their adherents in Scandinavia and throughout Eurasia, foxes and coyotes have their trickster backgrounds (not to mention jackals and many other such canids), and even kangaroos have their own legends to go with them, not to mention the spirituality that goes along with big cats all over the world.

\It seems that part of what draws us to the idea of anthropomorphism is the meaning attached to an animal.  Whether that means that an individual is influenced in their character by the spiritual associations or that their spiritual associations are influenced by their subconscious choice of character likely varies by the individual, but the important aspect seems to be that it adds intensity to the choice.  When one person elects to create a character of a fox, they may do so because that species offers the intensity of meaning, that certain “it just fits” je ne sais quoi that helps to complete the process of character creation.  It’s a powerful sensation, one supposes, and just as often leads to a proliferation of characters in order to fit all those intense moments in life, or one character locked down forever that provides the best fit in all scenarios.

This is evident beyond just the spiritual associations that are attached to certain species, though “spiritual” being such a difficult word to pin down, that’s a broad statement in itself.  Many individuals may find that intensity of meaning provided by the social connotations of species that are not necessarily considered spiritual, in the traditional sense of the word (though I should note that the Wikipedia page for “tradition” is nearly as complex as that for “spirituality”).  Dogs, for instance, carry significance in the society beyond the legendary, though many contemporary works have started to include some of that in their status. Specifically, dogs seem to be drifting toward some apotheosis of animal companionship, as evidenced by works such as Shiloh, Old Yeller, Lassie, Where the Red Fern Grows, and countless others.  Dogs are only one example, however; house cats, race and work horses, and many others all have built up their own social significance that adds to the meaning of the character one creates.

The thing that got me thinking about this in the first place was a hashtag that floats around twitter once a week: #TMITuesday.  It’s really no secret that people change throughout their lives around adolescence, and I am no different.  I have, on one of my bookshelves, books that range from the Bible to the Quran, the Celestine Prophecy to books on tarot cards (not to mention a modest collection of decks).  I was very, very much into the concept of spirituality, specifically the introspective aspects of it (as if that wasn’t obvious), and amassed quite a collection of materials related to that interest.  My choice of characters, then, was not mere consequence.  As I was first getting into the fandom, I began as a red fox, taking from the species many spiritual aspects both learned and imagined.  I created my character based around the intensity of meaning surrounding a supposed slyness, a dash of mystery, and a generous helping of playfulness that I gleaned from outside sources and my own thoughts.

As time went on, that shifted toward arctic fox after sifting through vague correlations in much the same way that I learned to read tarot cards; I felt snarky, arctic foxes looked snarky stealing bits of food from polar bears, thus a correlation was demonstrated.  Another example was the way in which I changed with the seasons.  What might be called Seasonal Affective Disorder in others, I deemed in a hazy way a correlation between the way the arctic fox’s coat goes from a fluffy white to a scraggly salt-and-pepper.  Even as my interest in spirituality waned over time, I still felt the need for that intensity.

Other species choices were much more, well, specious.  I created a wolverine character meant mostly to get different reactions in places I frequented on MUCKs, and the whole otter thing was due mostly to wanting to get a fursuit, but finding out that white fur can be hard to make look how you want. This intensity of meaning became evident in the different ways I felt interacting as each of the characters in turn.  There was something distinctly lacking from my interactions as a wolverine and an otter, and making them “mine”, as it were, took a force of effort, rather than being a consequence of my selection, having some sort of spiritual or social meaning behind their creation.  I failed with Happenstance, the wolverine character, and I succeeded only through force of will (and money well spent on a fursuit) with Macchi, the otter character.

In many bookstores, there is a certain area, usually just a shelf or section of a shelf, sometimes an entire room dedicated to the act of the practical, personal application of spiritual ideas.  Many focus on meditation practices, prayer, research, manipulation of certain objects, or even diets and other practical matters.  Others provide descriptions and hint at exercises intended to guide one down their own exploratory spiritual path rather than provide clear directions of one sort or another.  I prowled my way through this section often through at least one period in my life.  Many members of our subculture, and countless more outside the contiguous fandom, whether they identify more with therians, weres, some other subculture, or none at all, have found a way to integrate many aspects of what is called spirituality readily into their lives, however.  We seem to have done well by ourselves in that respect, making something as important as identification of a personal spirit animal, totemic guide, or other spiritual-animal connection a part of our day-to-day lives.

I know that this is a large topic, and I know that I have not done it justice, due to my incomplete knowledge.  I know, for example, that I was unable to provide adequate words to the Totemism topic that is so dear to many of my friends, and I deliberately skirted the topic of more conventional, more organized religions on the grounds that I have very little experience with such things, and don’t know too much of how furry interacts with the social aspect of spirituality as structured in religion beyond a few conversations I’ve had with a very kind [a][s] reader.  I know that many of you feel a spiritual connection with furry, and I invite you to leave comments with your own stories, thoughts, and words on the subject here, or, if such things are too personal and you still wish to share, to email me at [email protected].

Last week I wrote about one of the great inequalities within furry, the gender imbalance. Furry, measured by self-reported gender or by biological sex, is around 80% male and 20% female.

I talked about how the community can be unwelcoming for women, and how the dearth of furry women has a negative effect on some heterosexual furry men. When it comes to furries available for heterosexual relationships, the guys outnumber the girls by around three to one. This is a problem for those heterosexual male furries who feel that their partner needs to be a furry too.

In my article, I assumed that a relationship is defined as something exclusively shared between two people. But it’s wrong to characterize furry relationships as an exercise in ‘coupling up’.

Many furry relationships are non-monogamous, non-exclusive and/or only involve more than two people. I don’t have any data to draw upon, but it’s possible that exclusive monogamous couples are in the minority. Furry relationships, in my experience, can cover a very wide range of potential arrangements.

Online relationships within furry are relatively common. We think of online relationships as routine, but the entire concept is a new one. The relatively recent advent of the internet has brought about these relationships: it allows the sort of intimate communication necessary for the formation of a close emotional bond.

The boundaries of online-only relationships are being explored within furry. Owing to the international nature of the furry community, we tend to congregate online. This has inevitably led to the concept of an “online partner”, where someone will consider themselves to be in a relationship – even virtually married – with someone they interact with online (and sometimes solely online).

This is an inevitable direction for society, outside furry, as the world moves online and becomes more virtual. We furries, with our virtual animal-person alter-egos, are testing the possibilities of online relationships. We live a kind of virtual ghost life where our furry character lives inside a collective imagination as a real-but-not-real apparition. We’re taking the virtualization of life to a new, but logical, level.

Virtual lives and virtual relationships will become more common outside furry as time goes on. Society will adapt to the changes, with furries at the vanguard, just as society is adapting to the radical changes in relationships over the past 60 years or so.

Since the 1950s and 1960, society has moved away from a patriarchal relationship model. Thanks mostly to advances brought about by the second wave of feminism, we live in a more equal society where a relationship is not based on the assumption that one gender is superior. This has benefitted women but also gay couples: a relationship of equals provides a great model for a monogamous gay relationship, because society no longer expects a couple to respectively occupy the roles of “man” and “woman”.

This is not to say that there are no opponents to these changes. In conservative parts of the world, there is a natural resistance to the way that relationships have changed – see this Queensland, Australia election ad (from 2012!) (link updated) – which assumes a gay relationship must involve gender roles.

That advert and the attitudes it embodies are fundamentally sexist and homophobic. Many people are anti-gay-marriage, however I don’t think they are necessarily bigots. In many cases, people are anti-gay-marriage because they see it as another step in the wrong direction: another step away from a 1950s-style marriage.

The change in relationships towards a gender-neutral model is a positive step, but there have inevitably been some negative outcomes. The clearest is a ballooning divorce rate. Divorce is always difficult, for the couple and any children, as many people reading this will know. The previous model, where a woman had limited power within a marriage, was more stable – much as slaves are more stable than employees.

There are always growing pains during times of rapid change. Society’s shift towards the virtual world – as explored by furries – is also fraught. Many furries reading this will have learned that non-traditional relationships, whatever their flavour, are difficult to maintain over a long period of time.

There are a few reasons for this:

• There are limited role-models for unusual relationships, which means that the participants must learn by making mistakes, with limited experience and wisdom to draw upon.
• Unusual relationships don’t mesh well with society, which can cause friction with the outside world, perhaps when dealing with family or workmates.
• There may be a lack of legal recognition.
• If more than two people are involved, jealousy issues can become more significant.
• Communication, which is the cornerstone of any relationship, may become more difficult.

Because of these problems, and others, unusual relationship structures will fail more regularly. Relationships that most closely match the norms of society are more likely to be successful.

Regardless of your own preferences, aspiring to be in a healthy relationship is a good thing. But that doesn’t mean you need to be in a rush.

The average age of marriage for men is close to 30 in the US. For furries looking to enter a long-term commitment, whatever that might be, age is less important.

In the furry world, it’s easy to meet new people. This doesn’t always happen in the non-furry world – people often find their social circles shrink in their 20s and 30s. This is the opposite of the furry experience.

Single furries may also find it easier, compared to non-furries, to find rewarding intimacy and sexual contact within the context of a friendship. I think that the intimacy of many furry friendships puts us in a good position to learn about ourselves, and what we desire from a partner. Most good relationships can only work when all parties are fully-formed adults. People who get married young often find themselves yearning to explore life when they get older. This phenomenon is common enough to be almost stereotypical – a midlife crisis or a seven-year itch.

Anyone in a relationship or seeking a relationship – which covers almost all of us – is most likely to be successful if they are introspective and autonomous. Fortunately we are furries, which is all about exploration of identity.

I’d love to hear some stories – good and bad – from readers who have explored unusual relationship structures.