Hey, everybody, it's been quite a while since I've written a journal about something other than pre-con, post-con, or commission stuff, and I've realized that I don't really get the chance to talk to a lot of you, anymore. So, with that in mind, there's some things I'd like to say, and I'm not sure if any of you will find them interesting or not, but I'd like to express myself for a bit, here.

I came to the furry fandom indirectly, by means of a Redwall-based RP board, way, way back in 1999. At the time, I didn't know furry was even a fandom, and I just had fun playing my little character (who still exists, and whose story I love), and getting to know some new friends, most of whom were not typical furries either. We were fans of Redwall, and of storytelling, and through a small group I came to meet someone who is now my best friend, and has been my favorite (and constant) writing partner for fourteen years (  stormfire ). Through a bit of sketching, I met someone at my college who gave me a flyer for a convention: Conifur, which was a con in the Seattle/Tacoma area back in the late 90's-early 2000's. Not knowing what to expect, I packed up a little bag and went to my first furry con ever in 2002.

It was a truly magical experience, I have to say, and one of my favorite convention experiences I've ever had. I came in knowing only one person, who wound up not really being there, and so I had to meet and make new friends. These friends have been excellent, and I am still in fond contact with many of them. I was also introduced to the concept of a Dealer's Den, and the idea that one could do business selling artwork.

Now, I'd been to comic book conventions before this, but that's a very different type of con, celebrating more of the characters than the creators. A furry con made me realize that I, too, could be one of these creators, and after a truly splendid convention, I decided I'd be back, next year, as a dealer.

And I did. In 2003, I sat down at my dealer's table for the first time, not knowing what to do, or what to expect, and I winged the heck out of it. Oh, yes, I made many mistakes, but every first time dealer does. And, the other dealers around me helped me out. It lifted my spirits seeing how excited people were over my work, and I felt like a celebrity, even if nobody knew who I was. In those days, my gallery was only on Elfwood, which was/is a fantasy art gallery. There was no FA, no Weasyl, or SoFurry. The closest thing we had in those days was VCL, where looking for art was rather like hoping to find the right book in a library by walking up to a random shelf with your eyes closed. The furry community as we know it now simply did not exist back then, and it felt more local, more personal, and that drew me in.

I continued to deal, but as the internet developed, and furry sites grew, I learned about more conventions, and I started to travel. This was a great deal of fun, as I got to go to new places, meet new people, and generally have a blast at my table doing art during the day, and then going and hanging out with other artists in the artist lounge, or one of our rooms, in a big, laughing, silly art jam.

Oh, how I miss those days. In talking to Stormfire about his recent experience dealing at Fur Reality, it made me realize just how much cons, and I, have changed. And perhaps I haven't changed for the better.

You see, conventions used to be a lot of fun, for me. Eating on the cheap, working my butt off during the day so I could hang out with friends at night, go on silly adventures, draw things for free for each other just because we wanted to, and in general, make new friends and have a wonderful time. But, in my attempts to get bigger and better, flashier and appear as important as I felt (which was wrong), my focus changed from the fun con experience, to business.

Now, I'm going to break right there and say this: there is nothing wrong with business. Nothing.

But, as I pushed more towards the business side, I stopped being able to see my friends as much. Nightly adventures outside the con became one adventure per con, overall, then became just dinner, and finally, even dinners became difficult to plan. Manning my table, giving my customers the best experience I could, hosting panels and paying attention to my nightly workload took over the relaxing, fun unwinding I used to do. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't manage to find time to see some friends, even those I'd only see at that con, once a year. And I don't mean just Conifur, as it died out years ago, but every con.

I had changed gears from attending a convention as a participant to attending as a business. Instead of a fandom, it had become a trade show, and I was manning my booth for my product. It felt cold, impersonal, and I was left focusing on my production more than my interaction, no matter how hard I tried to make sure to be a real person behind the table, not a salesman. But I was a salesman, and when you're a dealer, you have to be. Cons aren't cheap to attend, and when they take up nearly all of your vacation time, you begin to worry about revenue per day, making sure that a con is worth going to, instead of actually taking some time to go on vacation and relax.

And, lately, after talking with friends, I've seen how much my change in viewpoint has hurt my enjoyment of conventions. For my past several cons, I couldn't tell you what the theme was, who the guests of honor were, or anything other than where the dealer's den was, where my hotel room was, and the hours in which I would be in either. Dinner was often my only escape, but even then talk would be about workload, not socializing. I had become a one-man corporation, not the man I used to be, and that bothered me.

It still bothers me. I want to be able to see a convention, to experience it. So much work goes into them, you wouldn't believe it. Having been on staff of a con for a short time, and knowing many people who are staff at many cons, the sheer amount of planning, effort and logistics that go into things are mind-boggling. And even knowing that, I couldn't even see it anymore. Instead, my blinders would go on the moment I stepped out of my hotel room in the morning, coming off only once I reached the "safety" of the Dealer's Den, where I could set up. And once the day ended, those blinders would go back on until I was behind the door of my hotel room, and could set up and work once more.

At an average convention, between Friday and Sunday, I might get seven to eight hours of sleep, total. I work. Hard. I do take my work seriously, because I want to give the best artwork, the best characters, the best badges and the best possible effort that I can give to my customers. I never, ever want to just churn something out, everything is unique and different, with the character always being the forefront of my work. It's demanding, exhausting work, but I enjoy it because if I didn't put in that effort, I'd feel I'd let people down.

But, it also takes a real roll on me, mentally and physically, and it's something I need to address. Perhaps I will be taking fewer pieces at con, perhaps I'll be trying to emphasize the artwork I've made before the con, for sale, or, maybe I'll come up with another solution. Not sure yet. What I am sure of is that I need to make a change for the better, in many aspects. One of which is being able to enjoy a convention again, like I used to.

I'm not sure how I'll do that, yet, but I want to, and I'll find a way. I want to be the happy, energetic, smiling person I used to be, at cons, instead of just a businessman. Because if I don't, I fear I'll be burning out very quickly, here, and soon won't want to even do cons, anymore.

To my circle of dealer friends who I usually do see and work with at cons, I'd love to talk with you, to see if it's maybe not just me feeling this way, and if maybe together we can help each other out. I've had friends burn out, and it saddens me that I don't get to see them anymore.

In any case, that's what I wanted to say. Well, that, and even after nearly fifteen years in the fandom, I still don't have a fursona. Perhaps it's because I came in through Redwall, where I had a character who was part of a greater world than myself. Perhaps it's that I enjoy being a creator more than a character. Or, perhaps, deep down, I'm just a Mitch, and always have been and always will be.

In the meantime, however, I'm heading back to my art table, to finish my current work list. Some overtime at work, and a nasty cold, set me behind, but that's no excuse. I'm going to get things done.