Happy Holiday (Blog Post)

I’ve had a wonderful holiday and I am excited to get working on my commissions and patreon pieces. I will continue to share the high rez pieces and wips on this platform as I steer through the month of January. I have a lot of work on my plate and I am excited to get tackling on these soon to be projects. I'm experimenting with blogging on here, let me know what you think. 

( Unfortunately, as I was writing this blog post in Patreon, I accidentally back-clicked and lost a lot of work that dove into self expression. Well, I know now to write a blog post in an external doc, and import it into Patreon, haha! What I wrote, and the message that I conveyed is still apart of me and I want to share it with you, so without further adieu, here is more about me!)

I began as an artist when I was quite young, as a toddler I doodled on the walls in crayon, and from there I evolved into understanding rhythm in my earlier years of education. Whether it was the maracas or the horrifying notes I hit with the recorder, I found solace in melting away for hours in creating sound and bringing forth with expression. In middle school I played the trombone, and buzzed away trauma and insecurities; expression acted as a blanket that protected me and allowed me to stay contained, secretive in my identity. 

I have lived in many states in the US including Missouri, California, Pennsylvania and New Jersey; Three of the aforementioned being states where I began to develop my personality as a furry. The earlier years of interacting with the furry fandom were akin to a wild-west frontier of insecurity; A lonesome vacuum in trying to feel something in the void without guidance; It felt, if not worse, than being gay or a witch, rejecting the cultural upbringings and expectations with concurrent social conformity. The fandom however has played a major part in shaping me as an artist, and my identity along with my sexuality. It was extremely difficult time in my life, difficult to the point where it makes me nauseated to unpack and remember what it was like to accept myself for liking other men… art in the fandom created a space that was soft, fluffy, engaging and safe. My first fursona, an orange husky, and my first furry doodles were inspired from Blotch, Kenket and Black Teagans “The Dog days of Summer” and “Nordguard”. These comics inspired me, they created a space where I could safely peruse my identity in the face of social apallment. My direct and absolute fear of being gay. 

"The fandom was a boundless space where I felt liberated, however it became a means of dissonance and paved an array of self destructive behaviour for the following years in my relationship to artwork."

I got lost for hours, reading Meesh’s “Little Buddy”, and porn that felt so right, yet so absolutely sinful to like. These pieces gave me the space to develop as a gay boy in a right leaning household and a culture that belted “faggot” and used gay as an unironic term of animosity and ‘uncoolness’. A lot of what furry art began to me was an escape from coming to terms with my own identity. It likened to the hours of melting away from my childhood, playing the trombone, except now I was holding onto the blanket of cognitive dissonance of my queerness. I told no one, I hid when I made my art, and hid my art subsequently; a lot of my adolescence was perusing the boundaries of self acceptance and plunging into self hatred, it was a dark uncanny space that I began to fill with roleplay, masters, and yiff. The longer I spent chasing this pleasure, I felt like I could run, and not be in trouble for who I was, as sex was kept undercover, right? I was me, full heartedly in theses spaces, I felt queasy, filled with butterflies at the thought of a wolf-man holding me, working me to his will, and giving pleasure onto others. I was so contained, so clandestine, yet filled with marvel each time I received a message on Kik, or Skype. 

I am so saddened today by how alone I really was, even when I was so intimate with others; my artistry began to shift to me when I created my first Furaffinity account in 2012. I was surrounded by creators, bombarded with post every second, and in many ways, filled with the relentless desire to be better as an artist. 

“What would make me loved?”

I wanted to be looked at, loved, validated, this journey of self hatred, lack of confidence and dark desolation, yearning for favorites and notes to bring me an ounce of attention to the space I hollowed out for my own safety. Furaffinity and Instagram were toxic hellscapes, a mirror image, a click, a view. I wanted more favorites, more watchers, more page visits. The first piece I uploaded was a new fursona I created with a mouse titled “Happy Holiday.” (http://www.furaffinity.net/view/15304353/) Nikolai, was a fursona inspired from the swirling designs of Redruskers, “Sea Salt”. Nikolai was a reflection of my love and jealousy of the artists work, I wanted to be amazing, I wanted to be him. I found nothing and everything in publishing my first porn pieces, 5 dollar commissions, and clicks to remind me that this secret world was ok. That me, as a gay boy, drawing the nude male form was okay. The furry fandom was the boy who climbed out of my window at dawn, as I wore the straight boy persona at breakfast. 

I have always been a bright, ecstatic character, finding innocent joy in life. Despite the familial trauma and weird isolation and bouts of depression, I was ok as the straight boy. It worked, and the furry fandom continued to leave my window at dawn, after our lustrous engagements. If I have learned anything from these awkward moments, I have learned that I was never confident in my work until quite recently. A lot of my creativity, was a chase for adoration, and validation, something I was never able to give myself due to the constant neglect of my identity and self love. It was around 2013 that I was ousted from the closet, and my reaction was a visceral act of preservation which included continuing to hide my furryness. There was polarity in hiding who I was to myself and others, and being obtusely blunt with drawing nsfw pieces, it was an extremely toxic relationship I held. That in itself was one of the largest barriers I had to overcome to get any better with art, and it happened in a vacuum over years of ‘doodling dicks’, and trendy pieces. The more space I had from this relationship, the healthier I felt, yet It felt so empty and unrewarding to develop these skills on my own; it was very easy to secretly doodle, than to publicly study and be an artist.

NSFW art has been a coping mechanism for me, a guide-less journey through the echelons and heights of how far I could push myself to learn and grow. It has been a journey of commitment, fun, and every piece I have created a bumpy roadmap, now not as bumpy. I have grown to learn to love my own body, my own kinks, my own sexuality. 

“I cannot explain the utmost love I have in the act of creation itself, but the time apart and the smothering self deprecating demeanor permeated through the seams of my work. I accepted myself as a furry very slowly, and with that my skills and dedication slowly increased.”

I started college in 2015, and graduated in 2017 with an associates degree, and started at Rutgers University in 2017. My work dwindled, exploded and dwindled again, divorcing from this aforementioned relationship and falling back into old toxic patterns. I went through full-throttled transformations in my character, I grew up and came into adulthood. Through many encounters I grew and became sexually mature, I began to see the relentless hours of struggle that many artists widdle into pieces. I began to ask artist such as Chunie for resources, for shaping my acts of creation. I realized that you must suffer to learn. I realized how much sacrifice goes into being an artist, accepting yourself as an artist, being courageous and confident as an artist. I was the most depressed I have been in my life in the past year, I have been the most destructive I have been in my life in the past year, yet I shattered the bastard of a glass mirror. I found community and a voice of praxis and self love. I learned to love to hate, and hate to love the passion that guided me in the past, and newfound passion spewed from me, the patience spewed from me. I was shaken at the very core and rearranged, painted over, sexually charged and positive, about sex. 

I have transformed as a NSFW artist in the past year. I’ve accepted it and full heartedly found joy in the work I have done; I absolutely love doing this, and through that struggle, I love myself. I trust myself. In the past year I have learned to establish boundaries, and be patient, to throw away that isn’t of use. I have learned to cut the threads that bound me, hang from a tree by my feet and watch the world pass me. I have learned to grow comfortable in my space, and find comfort and love for those who nourish me. 

I have also been too quiet at times, I’ve held my tongue where I could carry on with my work by speaking passionately from my gut and soul. My confidence stems from this lifetime of silence, and my goal as a fluffy cat in this New Year, is to not hold my own tongue. I will not hold resentment for those who eschewed me in the presence of my transformation, I will not hold back any more, I’ve sacrificed so much to be here, and to do what I love. I want to thank you all for supporting my work, and my journey as an artist; I am doing this full time as of late, and I am learning to grow even further. My goal for this year is to find stability and work in alignment with my spirit to never stop improving. Your patronage has helped me truly over the past few months, and your ideas and inspiration have shaped the pieces I have done, and helped wrought the success I have had. I hope that you stick with me through this year, and find joy in my growth. 

-Jerro