Hi everyone. I thought I'd be nice and give you all an opportunity to get to know the artist a little better.
I'm Canadian.
My name is David Zorn. Or Dave, whatever is formal/informal enough for the situation. I'm a 36 year old Male from a small town called Fort Saskatchewan near Edmonton, Alberta. We measure distance in minutes, so I am about... 20 minutes from Edmonton. Unless you follow the speed limit! (then it's less time)
Timezone here is Mountain Time, -7 hours.
My birthday is September 22. First day of Autumn. I like Gift Art and positive messages. Pay attention people! 4 months away!
I'm a Furry, people... Are you surprised?!
I can talk to you folks about myself without fear. My private life isn't really that private. I have nothing to hide. I won't say things that hurts other people or myself, but there really isn't anything that CAN hurt me too much. And I would never give away hurtful knowledge of my friends or family.
Everyone that knows me understands what kind of guy I am. It's kind of self evident. I march to my own beat, I'm that kind of guy. I don't follow the herd. I got my own path.
People tend to either accept me for who I am, or they don't. I usually just tell people that I'm a Furry. I don't tell them the sub-interests I have in the Furry art world... but most people are like "Oh. So... do you dress up in a fur suit then?.." and seem to have simply BEING a Furry as a good enough answer to explain my sexual and artistic preferences. OBVIOUSLY I will Yiff with anyone and EVERYONE is a Squirrel suit, right?!? They don't ask if I'm into anal, or threesomes, or weird fetishes... Being a furry explains it all, and COMPLETELY satisfies those other awkward questions.
Being a Furry here doesn't mean you lose your job, or get kicked out of your apartment. It's just a thing. People just dismiss it and go "Oh yeah? What, you're a special snowflake aintcha? I stare out the balcony and jerk off to joggers every morning. Get outta here..." They just don't care.
What do I look like? Hmm...
I got long hair and a long beard. Beard reaches the centre of my sternum, and head-hair reaches and inch past my man-nips if I have it down like pig tails. It's thick and wavy. I have dark brown, almost black hair.
My eyes started off a deep rich beer-bottle brown as a little boy, but over time they changed to hazel, and now at my age are grayish-green (no brown left). Apparently this is normal for some people. My eye doctor reassured me that I do not have eye disease causing the colour change. Phew!
I'm 5'11". I make a joke of telling people that if they really want that extra inch, I'd have to lay on my back... *wink*
I am weighing in at about 220 lbs, I'm not skinny or fat, instead kinda almost keg-shaped (not barrel shaped). While I am a lazy bastard on my own time, I work like a DOG, and am surprisingly strong for not being a buff guy.
I'm Caucasian. My family comes from a union of German and Russian families, who were some of the farmers/settlers that dotted the Prairies in the olden-times. Here in Alberta, there are lots of settlements that pay homage to these ethnic groups, and all sorts of crazy-awesome last names abound everywhere.
Visually I'm very pale to other people, and I do not tan at all. I have Ginger-people/red-head skin. My back MELTS in the sun. Big blisters. BAD. Some people think I'm a Vampire, but I iz not. I'm just sensitive to space radiation. So, even in summer, I wear heavier shirts, even a jacket, when it's +30 celcius outside. Add my long hair, beard, and my aloof personality, and people think I'm a backup from ZZ Top, a homeless dude, or the local crazy man. Maybe I'm all three?
I bought a house a few years ago. Well, started a mortgage... not paid off yet. My mom and my step-mom live with me. They're LESBIANS! (gasp)
Currently my half-sister Steph is also living at home with me. She's a sweetie!
Both mums have had kids from previous "normal" marriages. I have a LOT of step-siblings and a few half-siblings. No full-blood siblings though. I'm unique. I'm also the oldest. I have a position in my family as a kind of "daddy" figure for the others. It's both rewarding and horrible, as any mistake I make is under the spotlight, and growing up I've had to be the perfect example. It's desperate and sad for me to hear that I'm a "hero' for my siblings, and my momma. Makes failing or not succeeding well enough unbearable.
So. make fun of me. I'm a middle-aged man living at home with his mommy. But I gave my mum something she's never had before, a real home. A safe home. HER home. I'm proud to have been able to do such a thing in my lifetime.
We have 3 cats and 2 dogs. 1 cat is MY cat. We are currently breaking a bylaw by having a few too many pets, lol.
I own my own truck, I have a job, I over-pay my credit card... I don't owe anything to anyone, except the mortgage and taxes. I think I'm doing okay. Oh. I also have a comic with followers. Yay!
My current job is an evening job, usually 3pm to 11pm. I rarely see my family, unless they stay up late. But my mums are OLD. So unless I have a day off, I never see them. I wake up, go to work, come home to an empty house. That's it.
I work in a warehouse. It sucks. I hate warehousing, but in my area you're either in retail, or the chemical plants/oil plants, or in some kind of Trade. Getting to work warehouse means I can work inside when the weather is bad, and I have a regular shift with steady hours. The job scope rarely changes, so I could be piss-drunk and still do my job perfect (I would NEVER do that though!)
I was fired for the first time in my life three years go, from the Shell Scotford site. I stabbed an oil barrel worth $90.oo with a forklift. This happened at the start of our recession. Safety is Nazi-strict there, and despite having been there over two years, and Safety Captain for our warehouse team, AND being a hell of a good worker... this event was a dismissal. Since I had bought my home recently at the time, and lost a GOOD paying job... I had a very terrible depression that almost became a suicide. It wasn't just the financial loss at the time, but the overwhelming sense of personal failure and embarrassment. It really affected me, and in retrospect, seeing how I felt, the idea of self-destruction feels alien and impossible. But at the time, it was very real.
It happened on a Friday at the start of the long weekend. It was early, and the sun was up at a low angle. I was moving a skid of oil drums from our loading area outside to another warehosue. Well, about to move it. I approached the load with the sun in my eyes. My forks were low, but some debris raised my forks when I drove over it, causing my forks to life higher than the edge of the pallet. I was very slow, but a forklift will still easily puncture a steel oil drum at very low speeds. It guggled out, and we contained it with oil socks and spill absorbant... but a reportable spill had happened. The $90 was piss-all, but the event was very real. I had misjudged the opening of the pallet, because I didn't account for a broken board to be laying on our dock. Which I couldn't see, as it was shadowed by the pallet and barrel, while I was blinded by the sun. Sigh.
So now I work at a shitty warehouse. I can walk to work, and save cash on gas... which is great. I've mastered the job here, and know all the ins and outs... but I'm tired of it. Tired of running out of space, and stressing over time and poor crew mates not performing/helping get the job done. Maybe one day I'll put myself really deep in debt and go to school for some boring normal-person job or trade. Either way in the end I'd make about the same money (after taxes and gas etc). I just hate HAVING to work. I want to work, but have work as an optional thing to do, lol. Someone be my sugar-daddy!
I'm a pretty straight-forward guy. I would rather be open and honest with people than keep things from them. A lot of people don't like the truth, and sometimes the truth I speak is hard, unpleasant, even painful to hear. I can sugarcoat the words that I say, but I prefer to be blunt and straight-forward. Add my rock solid stubborn opinions on things, and a knack for always being right, and you've got the voice of god right here.
I've been through some things. In order to survive I've had to not let things people say affect me. In turn I've become a little callous with the things I say at times. If ever I say something that cuts a little, know this: it isn't meant as an attack. If I didn't value you in the first place, I'd never talk to you in the first place. That means if I ever say something that offends you, it's because I like you! Lol. What it really means is that unless I'm REALLY in your face about an issue, you should be strong enough not to let my words hurt you. Be my equal and run WITH me, not behind!
I can tell who I like and who I don't through observation and gut instinct, so I rarely make friends with people who spaz out when I open up to them. Shared outlooks/interests etc tends to filter out the close-minded people, and I'm glad that all the good people I get along with tend to be the quirky ones in the world. Nerds and geeks, parkour enthusiasts and gun-range shooters, misfits and the broken. Spastic dreamers to reclusive introverts, we've have it all! (Lemongrab quote)
I don't have a LOT of friends... but the friends I do have are solid people. I'm not clingy, and neither are the people I value. We can be apart for years and then suddenly hook up again, and it'd be the same, y'know? Friends to me isn't about quantity, but rather the quality of people. I don't want shit in my life. My Farmville days are over, and I don't need 1000+ strangers as friends to make me feel special. I need 1 or 3 GOOD ones, and that's it. Extras are fun, but it's only the good ones that really matter to me.
I do enjoy fun. I'm warm hearted and social to people I care about. I'm honest and accepting of most others... But I also can have a very mean exterior at times. I have a very serious, no-nonsense grim shell. Usually when it's a bad situation go-time. Ever see a guy march towards you with dead eyes, a grim face, and the solid step of a Roman soldier entering hell? Yup, that's me. Get out of my way, I'm having a bad day because I'm shouldering the world.
I find that I am way too responsible. I am not one of those people who can just coast through life and do things on a whim. I can't just up and say "Hey! Let's drive down to Reno in the States next week for a Furry convention, because... why not?!?" I'm a homesteader who doesn't like to be too adventurous in real life. Well, SOME adventure I'm cool with. Usually in trying new foods or learning new things. But just winging a trip or activity without the proper pre-planning and ready-up time is a serious no-no! >_<
I like to be alone. I enjoy my solitude and the silence. I don't want the panic and pressure of having to please someone else. I'm fine at my own gentle pace, and when the time comes that I need to go hard, no-one else seems to be able to keep up with me. I get along with others, sure... but in the end I like to just sit alone, do my own thing, not worry about anything else. Doesn't mean I don't like visitors or company though! I'm just an old hermit that doesn't mind an occasional visitor. Just as long as they leave and gimme my space at the end of the day!
I used to be an extreme Introvert. That's true! Now I am an extrovert. That is also true! How?...
Self esteem didn't exist for myself for a very long time. Self respect was a late adult development. I was so broken from events growing up that I couldn't look at other people face to face, and I even had a horrible speech stutter (any word starting with a vowel was a stutter-word, sigh), caused from the stress and fear of others that was forced into me.
I got through it though. At about the age of 16-19 I started to hang out more with a few local misfits from my scouting group and school. We played BATTLETECH and Dungeons and Dragons! Craziness! By finding acceptance in this small social group of people I learned to find value and trust in others. With their help, and my crazy imagination, I started to open up and develop my social skills. Soon I started buying buttloads of books, and began compiling stories and narrating these great adventures and worlds for these friends of mine to enjoy.
Through various jobs, I've noticed my peers were lacking some skills. Almost no-one had self-motivation or leadership potential. We'd have challenging jobs that needed to get done, but no-one could coordinate any solutions! I knew what needed to get done, and the right order of doing things. I'm quite tactical. After sitting on the back benches, watching people LITERALLY spin in circles, trying to figure out how to approach these problems at work... I got frustrated and stepped up. I started taking that leadership role I oh-so dreaded in the past. Now-a-days, I couldn't imagine myself kow-towing to any lesser capable person. Ugh! I might be a lone-wolf kind of guy, but I'm TOP DOG when it comes to getting results. Over time I learned to really open up and relax around other people, including strangers in public. I kind of act a little boorish at times, and I now have few reservations holding me back. I grew up in fear of other people, but there's really nothing to fear but myself! And as long as I know my limits, I'm good.
I like to joke and tease. I LOVE puns... LUVEM. I like to make a mockery of daily events, or exaggerate peoples behaviours, and generally poke fun at life. I see a situation and POP, in my head, a witty something. One day I ordered a coffee double-double (two cream two sugar for you non-Canadians) and finished the order by doing the whole Team Rocket speech "Make it double-double, or there'll be trouble. Meowth, dats right!" etc etc. McDonalds guy there already knew me and what kind of guy I am, but still shook his head in slow sad shame. I laughed.
I was picked on a lot at school for being intelligent, shy, deathly pale with dark sunken eyes (eyes are fine now, but still pale!), and incredibly poor. I was (am) Anemic with low iron, tends to be a bloodline thing. Going to school in knock-off brand hand-me-down clothes from thrift stores in Oil Country where most families got the Big Bucks wasn't easy. I looked poor, and sad from my homelife, and other kids who had more just saw that divide and attacked it. I was often hungry too. "Sorry Pumpkin, but that'll have to do..." or "We don't have any food until Friday."
I was usually reading books that kids weren't reading for another 6 years. Already reading Steven King in grade 4, mom had to write a special note for the teachers to let me read adult content, while other kids struggled reading Tin-Tin comics. Other kids were working on social status and friend-making, I was reading/crafting/playing alone. I was the weird kid.
Home life was bad. I had a very abusive step-dad who messed me up real good. Years later I discovered the horrors he inflicted on my mother. Once in a blue moon he would show a nice side... and actually be okay to be with. I do have a couple of good memories of the guy. We went fishing a few times and camped at a couple lakes. I learned how hard HE had it when he was a kid... but still. Things were not easy or good for us, even if he did hold back a lot of his rage. Without him though I wouldn't have two perfect things in my world, so he did create something beautiful and good for us to have. He fathered my beautiful baby sister Steph and ruggedly awesome shithead brother Tony. For that I feel my childhood was worth it.
But don't pity the past. The past is dead, and today I appreciate certain things more, right? Home cooked food, a tight-knit family that doesn't hurt each other, the good friends that accept us as who we are... those are good things to value. I might not be this awesome person today without the pain to nurture us. My personal quote of "The strongest spirits rise from suffering" comes partly from this. We found strength when we had nothing, and we have tremendous character and heart. My mom, victim multiple times over through the decades, is the strongest. I have no dad-hero. No. My mom is my hero. First to forgive, accept, love. She over-tips people at the coffee drive-thru despite her low income, she listens and supports, laughs and helps others to laugh and cry when needed, she is far stronger than I ever have been. She has relentless faith in others and, above that, has HOPE that tomorrow will be a better place and be worth living for.
I joined InkBunny 7 years and 6 months ago. I was still a fan of cub art back then.
At the time I was half-heartedly uploading traditional media drawings on FurAffinity. However, FurAffinity's policy on allowing cub porn or cub nudity on their site dramatically changed. A LOT of my artists I was watching just... DISAPPEARED! I was floored. Isn't art about being able to create whatever you want? Where is the freedom? In the end, I had to delete a few of my own submissions, just to be safe and keep my account from being erased by the moderators.
When joining InkBunny, I had basically decided to end my artistic hobby. I was struggling with a "it-was-never-gonna-happen" unrequitted love situation over someone I thought I wanted, as well as career changes, people telling me that art was a waste of time, and the feeling that I would never be able to improve with my drawing skills. I was simply joining InkBunny to follow a few cub artists that had mentioned this site, and just disappear, blend in with the crowds of lurkers and watchers.
I'm less of a cub fan now. I enjoy their cuteness and certain lewd situations that cubs can get in to, but I have other topics and themes that dominate my attention now. As you can tell with my comic, I find the subject of incest to be of relative interest. (snicker)
I prefer mostly the brother/sister pairings, but sister/sister or mother/son is fine for me too. One of my artists I watch is doing a daddy-daughter thing, and it's worth 7 out of 10 potatoes (low score mostly because it isn't finished yet).
Too many people make brother/sister incest stories about over-sexed selfish siblings want to use and exploit each other for raw carnal sex. No compassion or emotional connection. Just use and lose mentality. "Let's have SEX because it's BAD and NAUGHTY..." No thank you.
I'm more interested in their forbidden relationship. The tragic love story appeals to me. When no one in the world is good enough or better to replace your sibling, because the perfect person in the world that you've fallen in love with just so happens to be someone related to you. I find it bitter-sweet and heart wrenching, and I get a little giddy heart-jump and smile when their spurned love and emotional/sexual interest in each other succeeds in the end. "I can't love anyone else. I want YOU, with all my heart!"
I hope to capture this with my comic.
Just answering a few questions from my last journal before I end part 1 here. I hope to include some good things I've done for others, past adventures and interests etc, and some other details in a follow-up journal(s).
What made you choose a Bear?
To be honest, I feel more like a Wolf. A lone wolf, brutish and ugly, relentless and proud. Forever exiled, alone, but not lonely. Feral, powerful, a survivor. That's how I feel these days.
I chose bear because of it's symbolism. Bear is a sign of strength, healing, of sacrifice and of protection. Things I value. While I FEEL like a wolf, the traits of a bear fit very well in my heart. A wolf trait is typically of someone who works in unity with others, who knows their place and function in the pack, who kills and takes from others to survive, a symbol of relentless energy, survival, and the wild unfettered passions in our hearts. I identified with the spirit of the bear more, and at the time, needed those attributes in my life very desperately.
I tried to wean myself off the bear aspect and stick with a Wolf name/fursona... but I got bear stuck in my heart. I can't abandon it. So as Wolfy as I feel, I'm always a Bear.
I often played Druid-type characters in games (RPG and video game), and fantasy Druids often seem to relate to Bears, so that settled the deal.
Being born in Autumn, and feeling this would be a quasi-Druidic name, I combined the two and got my username, Autumnbear. Though back in the early days, the words were separate as Autumn Bear instead of the modern form, Autumnbear.
My cat isn't fat at all. She is actually scary-thin. No, she does not have feline leukemia. She's just lean.
My cat "Pudgy" was the runt of a litter. Her face was pug-flat when she was born, and she had a squat body. My brother and sister named her. It was suggested I take a kitten as a personal pet, to give me a reason to live type thing, some sort of extra responsibility to satisfy my "I wanna be a Daddy" urges.
I looked at this ugly cat with the flat face and squat body and said oh man, aint nobody gonna want you... and felt sorry for it. Like, really sorry for it. So I chose this girl of mine.
Today she is a sleek princess with a pointy nose, A true ugly duckling story. She likes to sit on daddy's lap while he's trying to make his comic, but daddy can't draw and won't pet her when he's focused, so she gets huffy and jumps off my desk, spilling my tea everywhere, making me more frustrated... gah. I love her to bits though.
My family is a HUGE blended Brady-bunch family! Everyone marries, makes kids, divorces, remarries, divorces, then compiles to my current family in the end. SO MANY PEOPLE. So many step-siblings, cousins, aunts, uncles... Face it, I'm related to everyone now. My family tree looks like a combination of a radar map showing a steady bombardment of nuclear warhead detonations that behave and multiply like bacteria cell division in a petri dish. I'm not even kidding.
Show me yours and I'll show you mine? Hmm, Furlips, I'll tell... but can't SHOW. Lol.
It's in an old FurAffinity journal, my "stats".
6 and 3/8 inches. Circumcised. As "normal" looking as I've ever seen.
Lol. Think this is a good place to wrap up this first "About The Artist" journal.
If you got a question you want answered, post it below, and if I CAN answer it, I will. Sorry for the long-ass read!
