#sculpting really is starting to feel like the physical media that suits me best

[adriancatrin]

i’m losing my mind over the tags on my zuko sculpture post ppl are so nice i wanna cry

[beetlefursuits]

Why Your First Fursuit Commission Was a Disaster! (or How to Prevent it)

Being approached by a stranger asking you to be THE fursuit artist they have chosen can make you feel AMAZING and eager to say YES!

Out of all the artists out there, they picked you!

The immediate assumption is that you can knock that project out and get some money in your pocket, while filling out your portfolio, gaining some experience, and having some fun!

But pause a moment, step back and think “Am I ready for this? Is this the right client for me? Do I even WANT to do commissions?”

Before you jump into business with someone, consider the following list of reasons that this project (or this client) might not be the correct fit for you.

Six Tips For Success in Choosing Which Fursuit Commissions to Accept (and which to avoid!)

#1. Will I ENJOY Doing This Project? 

Is this REALLY something you want to make? 

When a new project crosses your eyeballs and you get that excited glow, you can immediately imagine how great it will be to show off the finished product in your portfolio.

But stop and REALLY think about the project you are considering, break it down into every aspect, every small detail that you will have to source and buy materials for, that you will have to construct and sew and cut and sculpt and paint, and then decide how jazzed you really feel about building it.

300 rosettes (you realize only after counting each one) will look amazing but consider sewing each one and how does that make you feel. Sew a test spot just so you can time yourself and feel it out.

Those cool markings? How will you do that? By machine? By hand? Do you have the fur for it in stock? Does it even exist and do you know where to find it?

How will you do the long hair to get that particular shape? Does it have Spikes? Horns? Both? What will they be made from? Have you done it before? Does that prospect of making something new excite you? Or do you feel dread?

If you are not starting it immediately, consider how interested you will still be in a few weeks or months once that initial glow has faded, the deposit has been spent, and what’s left is a pile of materials and the prospect of a lot of hard work.

If there is an aspect of the project that you do not like, consider that future clients will see this work and assume it’s the type of project you wish to do again.

#2. Am I CAPABLE of Completing this Project?

Building a commission is NOT like building a personal fursuit.

With a personal project, you do not need to discuss your ideas with others, you do not need to stick to a reference or plan, you can cut corners with sewing or final finishing, etc.

A commission requires a lot of back-and-forth discussion between the artist and the client. You have to consider the opinion of someone else. You need to accurately size it to a person you have never met and who cannot try it on during the process. Everything has to be finished and durable and clean.

Following are 4 quick tips to consider if you’re ready to accept client work:

Do you know how long it takes (roughly) to build a (non personal) fursuit?

Have you already made and sold artistic liberty/artist-designed/premade projects? When you are starting out, this is how you decide on your pricing and deadlines. It’s not good to enter into an agreement with no idea what to charge or how long it will take you!

Do you have a dedicated work space/guaranteed amount of time available?

Fursuit making takes a lot of space (Huge awkward foam rolls to store and fur to spread out while you pattern/cut. Duct tape dummies awkwardly starfish out their arms and legs all the time and don’t help at all with the sewing) and it’s much easier to work on commissions when you separate life and work areas.

If you currently have other major obligations besides fursuit making (such as work, family, health, and school) which already take (or have the potential of taking) most (or all) of your available time, then it might not be the right time to take full suit commissions. Artist-designed projects and smaller projects will offer more flexibility for unpredictable and limited time—and energy.

Are there a lot of new elements to the project that you have not done before?

Some things may look easy and then when you start building it you realize that it’s much more involved than you expected. This can be a huge drain on your time, your money, and your motivation (which just compounds those first two issues).

An example could be a character with 3 tails. It’s just 1 tail(X3) right? But will they all fit correctly together? Do you make and attach them as one tail or leave them separate? Will they bounce or sit weirdly? Do you now need to make a new ‘side tail’ pattern so they splay out in an appealing manner?

Or say you take on a particularly tall client and you suddenly have to research and develop all new larger hand and foot designs as your current ones do not fit them or the padding you normally make looks too small now and needs to be remade larger.

These are all aspects worth considering. To prevent taking on more than you can handle, my suggestion is to take on no more than one new aspect (that is preferably no more than 10-15% of the project) on each commission that you’ll need to research and develop. You will probably go over time and over budget on these new processes at first (as you gain experience you naturally find ways to craft things quicker and easier) so it’s best to not knowingly take projects that you do not yet have the skills and/or experience to fulfill.

Can you take criticism?

Paid artistic work invites criticism. Sometimes something you make does not work out. You loved it and the client hates it. Or it doesn’t fit. Or it fell apart. That is all part of learning and growing and trying new things. Can you take the corrections, make it right, and move on?

If you feel that you currently cannot emotionally/mentally/physically handle potential setbacks/obstructions/times where things just don’t go your way; stick with non-client projects that are easier to control and fit to your schedule (premade suits. ears and tails. fursuit props.) and revisit commissions further down the road.

#3. Is the Client Displaying Red Flags?

Knowing which clients to turn away is a valuable skill.

As your business grows, it pays in your time, resources, and sanity to know when to refuse a commission (or when to cancel a commission) and to do so as early and gracefully as possible.

If you watch for situations like these, you can focus on cultivating happy, excited, and RESPECTFUL clients who love your work and your preferred artistic style. Not those who try to cut corners or denigrate or manipulate you for their own goals.

Here are 6 ‘red flags’ to consider when picking or accepting client projects.

The client complains (a lot) about their previous artist(s)

Simple, constructive, and legit complaints are one thing (the client says “Artists tend to get this marking wrong so here is how I really want it.” or “My last artist used these materials but it broke so can we try something else.”)

If instead the client immediately gossips about/trash-talks previous artists to you, it shows a lack of social boundaries and the high potential that they will then trash-talk about you/your work in the future.

Poor Quality Reference art.

This one is not a deal-breaker as long as it is not paired with an uncommunicative and/or demanding client.

If the client wants a “sly grey wolf” then we may proceed as long as we both understand that it will be my personal version of that idea and might not match what’s in the clients head.

If the very specifically-desired concept involves complex unclear markings, specific tattoos that are not consistent across the reference, the client’s desired fursuit and the reference do not match, a blurred photograph of a scratchy OC reference, etc; IE ANYTHING you cannot make heads nor tails of.. then ask them to clear this up with a favorite reference artist first and get back to you.

(And If YOU are your favorite reference artist, make sure to charge appropriately for the extra service!)

The client is a child or cannot/will not prove their age.

Children cannot be held to a contract in the USA and most fursuit artists require their clients to be over 18 (many are starting to ask for proof such as a photograph of a legal ID). You may choose to proceed with the project but the contract, payment, and all discussion needs to go through the child’s legal adult caretaker.

A client who micro-manages you and/or your work through constant criticism, proposed changes, or ‘redlines’ of your work.

These clients (though generally well-meaning) are honestly hell on the self-esteem. The occasional suggestion or constructive criticism (as mentioned earlier!) can be very helpful in determining the angle to take on a project or future projects.

But CONSTANT red lines and complaints and ‘suggested changes’ to your work (that they keep suggesting because they don’t even KNOW what they really want from you) means that NEITHER of you is going to come out of it feeling very happy about the art. Cancel and refund them and move on. I promise that it’s worth it.

The client disagrees with the quoted price/requests a discount/attempts to change the commission parameters.

“No” is a complete sentence.

To elaborate on that further; not everyone who asks for a discount is like this but be warned that there ARE potential clients who look for bright new fursuit makers, with the intent to jump on them early and obtain a new commission at a low price by (knowingly or unknowingly) taking advantage of the artist’s inexperience.

I am going to give a fictional example of this situation to show how insidious it can be:

You are still unsure about fullsuit commissions but you say on social media that you’re thinking you could try a head? An acquaintance says yes! Me! PLeeeeese. They seem excited so you agree for an introductory price. This new client chats a lot and seems friendly.

Could they get feet?? Feeling on-the-spot you agree since they’re ‘friends’. You’ve not made feet on commission yet so you underestimate the difficulty and under-charge. The client seems happy tho. They discuss a few changes they want to the head (that they’re sure they mentioned in the initial quote). Maybe you forgot??

This all takes some time and meanwhile they show you some reference art they just got done of a different character and ask to move the commission to this since you don’t have THAT much done yet. Also how much for hands?? They find you at a con and offer to buy you a drink. You restart the work.

A few more rounds of these (or similar) behaviours. The client starts to complain how long it’s taking. Maybe they drive other potential clients away with their actions or threaten an artist beware on you. And eventually you realize you’ve been manipulated and bullied into taking on a complicated fursuit that you had no intentions of making and have very severely undercharged for. Not fun!!

Instead of this situation coming to pass, hold your ground in the beginning and refuse to ‘add’ to a commission or to change a commission after it’s been paid for and/or started. This muddles what you’re working on and allows the client an opportunity to keep changing things forever. (instead treat the add-on as a brand new commission to be started only after the current part is finished and paid for)

Do not entertain those who think you’re not worth the price you’re asking for. Do not give ‘friends discounts’. Friends want to see you succeed!

Other artists warn against working with them.

Get to know other fursuit artists! We are usually happy to vouch for good clients and warn about any particular issues you may experience with others. Sometimes there are issues that prevent one artist-client relationship but can be managed within another and eventually other artists might recognize which clients to refer to you (and you to them).

If you are wondering how to start this type of discourse, there are public groups on Facebook or considering joining a fursuit artist’s Patreon and/or Telegram chat! Many fursuit makers have one (or both) of these with various mentoring tiers.

As an example, all of my patrons are given a link to join my Telegram chat where you can share your work and receive critique from a like-minded audience. At higher tiers you can join my Discord to share and chat in real time.

If there is a fursuit artist that you admire, ask them and see what they offer!

#4. Do I Need The Money?

Fursuits are maybe NOT quite the jackpot they might first appear to be

Fursuits are deceptive. It sounds like a great deal to gain several thousand dollars in one simple cheque, but, if you are not careful with budgeting, if you undercharge, or under-estimate how long it will take; you can find yourself falling into a state of using future projects to pay your current project materials, shipping, taxes, etc; as well as your regular life expenses like rent, car, insurance, utilities, loan repayments, etc.

The simplest practice is to prevent this entirely right from your first commission! My suggestion is to first take on smaller projects with a quick turn-over. This keeps you flexible to increase your prices or change your practices as needed. Then when you have enough savings to keep yourself afloat (so that you will not need to dip into your fursuit deposit money even if things don’t go exactly on schedule), you can take larger projects with longer turn-around times and higher price-points.

If you do find yourself in a situation where you NEED the money immediately; the issue is that you will be much more motivated to take on more difficult clients, less fulfilling projects you don’t really like, and overall accepting a worse deal for you for the reward of immediate payment (which then exacerbates the issues by giving you more work for the future and then pushing you further into the hole). Sadly, getting out of this situation can be very difficult.

Sparkle Kreations writes:

In my earlier business years, I found myself in a deep hole; I struggled financially day to day, I had over 80 clients on my list, and I was overwhelmed by the amount of work to be done. There were solutions, all very challenging decisions laid out before me. One path was the one most recommended, was that I go out and get a full-time job as I slowly refunded everyone on my list (a viable decision, advised to me by furry and non-furry alike) while I continue living and paying my living expenses. Another path was that I completely close off all large commissions, only taking on a few quick/small commissions to keep a bit of income flow, closely budgeting every dollar that I spend as I worked on my queue and knocked out my commissions until they were all complete. So I chose a hard path to regain my business name; I started by being completely honest with all of my customers and offering refunds if they chose. I then worked 6-7 days a week/8-10 hours a day, for about 5 to 6 years. I watched my budget closely, avoided going to conventions so I could instead refund customers. I now run a successful business that is financially stable, with a comfortably-sized queue, where myself and my assistant comfortably work a 5 day/35 hour work-week.

Finally, keep in mind that what really matters is not the $$$$ on the cheque but actually how it distills into $/hour. An artist is limited by the hours they are able to put into the work and a sexy $$$$ fursuit deposit might not actually gain you more in the end than several smaller $$$ projects with quicker overall turn-around times. Track your time and choose the most profitable options to promote and pursue.

(For much more on the physical realities of running a business, read my previous blog article “What I’ve Learned From The Past Decade Working as a Professional Fursuit Artist”)

#5. Can I communicate effectively with others?

Good communications are key with all client-artist interactions.

Can you stay calm, be professional, and set expectations? Poor communication (on either artist or client end) can easily snowball into angry clients and artists, stress and anxiety, emotional withdrawal from your work, misunderstandings, and even artist bewares.

There are several important aspects to communicating effectively:

Can you stay calm and professional even when the client is combative?

At some point, you will have a difficult client. When this happens, you need to stay professional and work through the issues with them. If you cannot agree then you might need to part ways. You must do so with the grace and assurance that you did everything possible to fix the situation. If you think “Taken out of context, will this screenshot look bad?” And the answer is “yes,” then you need to step back, collect yourself, and rewrite your reply.

Can you set expectations?

As the artist, you can choose your commission methods, but you need to be VERY CLEAR to the client what those methods are, what your expectations are (for them and for you), and how the commission process will proceed. Before you take any clients, figure out what you what you want out of the commission process. Do you want to take on clients for money? For the satisfaction of a job well done? For the social challenge of managing an artist-client relationship? Or the artistic drive of working to a specific goal and schedule? Aka WHY do you want to take commissions??

If you have not developed your own drive and are not familiar with your own commission process then you are not ready to move a client through that process

Are you ready to directly and clearly (and repeatedly if needed) communicate your policies to a client through the design, payment, construction, delivery, potential changes or repairs of the commission?

If you need payment by X date or they’ll be dropped from the queue, you need to inform them of this. If they have an issue with the work you did (and you need them to ship the item back asap so you can fix it before their warranty runs out), you need to inform them of this urgency and what failing to act by the deadline will result in.

Don’t leave it up to the client to know your policies. Your policies/procedures should be on your website Terms Of Service (TOS) that you had the client read and agree to, but a little refresher (plus a reasonable and clear deadline, if applicable) allows everyone to move on informed and aware of the consequences.

Do you have a method to communicate with your clients and be available for them to discuss issues with you?

I’m not saying be available 24-7 (an important self-care aspect is having certain hours of the day and/or the week to yourself without any work concerns) but if the client has an issue, how will they communicate that with you so that you can respond in an effective and timely manner? Do you prefer Telegram? Email? Twitter? Decide how you want to conduct business matters and let clients know where/when to contact you.

Do you have a method to update your clients and ask their opinions?

Depending on how you like to work, you do not need to ask a client’s opinion on every aspect of the build. However, showing your work and giving updates on the progress will make the client feel happy and secure in their commission choice.

One easy method for updating that I like is to keep a Trello board of projects where the client can always see the current progress of their commission. Telegram is a popular group chat client. It’s nice for sending pics/videos to clients and the ever classic email is perfect for initial quotes and longer back and forth discussions.

Can you always be honest with your clients?

It’s hard to run an entire business by yourself and you might promise too much or underestimate how long something will take or you life circumstances change and you now have less time to work. When these things happen, you need to be honest and transparent to your client. Explain the issues you are having (in simple, appropriate terms), apologize, and try to work with the client on a solution.

If you are going through some things that might affect work or deadlines, let them know. Keep in mind though, this doesn’t mean you have to share ALL of your struggles if what you are going through will not affect them. Just share what you feel they need or deserve to know.

#6. Do I have other artistic or personal goals right now?

Are commissions even right for you? 

If you have other things that are important in your life right now, it’s perfectly acceptable to focus your time on them instead of commissions.

Depending on your stage of life, you might still be in school. Or have a family. You might have another job or a hobby you enjoy. You also might just have other artistic goals that existing commissions do not fit into right now. People love your canines but you want to try cats instead. Or cosplay.

Or you don’t know what you want to do yet but agreeing to a many-month long contract is not that.

The desire for quality fursuit work from reputable artists is high;

if you are active in your community, your peers might try to convince you into taking their project.

It’s great that they love your work! But if the project is not in the direction you wish to go, does not offer enough money in compensation for sacrificing something else you want to do instead, or you do not feel like you can dedicate the time needed, it’s okay (and probably necessary!) to say no!

The ultimate goal in taking client commissions is to have them bring you MORE satisfaction and fulfillment than they take away; Be that in monetary, social or artistic terms.

Figure out your personal drive in being a fursuit artist. Create and run a thoughtful, intentional, and passionate business; whether you decide to take on 30 clients, 1 client, or zero clients.

Above all, have fun with it! Bring those characters to life without losing your own.

[the-uptake]

The Uptake, The world was beginning to fluoresce into wounds. 0|0|1|-, Prologue. It’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood.

It only stopped raining an hour ago. A handful of select CERCLIS staff, many of whom had half-stripped out of their neon yellow hazmat suits, lined up behind their leadership, awaiting further instruction in the intersection of a Level 0 street halted by media equipment, portable construction lights, and vehicles. One of the employees had not removed his suit, with unusual violet straps taping together every major seam, and more noticeably the hood he kept drawn was missing a visor shield altogether. He fidgeted in place. Galen had been requested to accompany Bensington today, but the one-eyed metahuman hadn’t expected his day off to go anything like this. There would be a billion Web eyes on him and he loathed the very idea of it.

Somehow, when the boom mic and reporter approached Bensington, and not him, it only unnerved him further. The heavyset Indian woman had removed her hood, and she checked the integrity of her snood-bun, while a makeup artist scrutinized the lavender eyeshadow which streaked uniformly from her orbits out to her temples. The camera lead gave her the green light, and they began.

“We’re speaking today with Yvpraksya Bensington, the regional executive for the Northeast and New England branches of the EPA.”

“Thank you, Alex. As many of you have come to know in the past few months,” Bensington announced, shoulders square but calm, “Tri-City’s foundations are slurrying. Seventy years or more of illicit disposal of industrial chemicals has resulted in the pollutants supersaturating the soil of Level 0. Investigations punctuate that the dumping evidence runs rampant throughout all levels which fall below city limits.”

“Miss Bensington, you said the foundations are slurrying. Does that mean you believe that Tri-City will get shorter?”

"The EPA has already launched remediation efforts to prevent it. We want to keep Level 24′s Mile High Club mile-high, don’t we?” She paused to smile at her own whimsy. “Since April, we’ve surveyed the extent of the damages wrought by improper disposal of these poisonous, highly reactive chemicals, in particular Wolfrin--ironically, the organochlorine responsible for much of fusion cities’ capacity for upward sprawl. Construction companies are estimated to be at fault for a majority of the chemical presence in the soil. We’re doing what we can to slow the chemical reactions with other wastes present in the Stalkers’ Quarter’s stalking yards.”

“The stalking yards are the city’s largest concentration of landfill plots. What does the sustained presence of the EPA in Levels 0 to 3 mean for the city?”

“Not to worry. E-cycling will not halt during this crisis. There is no threat to human life, so long as appropriate caution is taken. Our remediation efforts for this Super Fund will not impact city life, though it is strongly advised that citizens not sight-see the disaster and respect quarantine lines. The Agency can and will defend the quarantine by force. These chemicals are highly dangerous, and we can’t have trespassers distracting our cleanup efforts.”

“What is the EPA doing to, well, remediate?”

“We are isolating the contaminated soil, as well as separating solid from semi-solid and liquid wastes. Several sites have required the excavation of buried drums of waste. We’re neutralizing a majority of the waste on site. Cleanup requires extensive equipment and labor. In addition to the dozens of engineers and environmental technicians we have at our employ, we also have a specialist on site.”

“Miss Bensington, is that the specialist there, behind you?”

When the crowd of reporters clamored, Galen flinched to stand straighter, but he couldn’t help but turn his face from the camera lens. Bensington glowered at the reporter for putting so much focus on someone besides herself unrehearsed, and they pulled back to her. She cleared her throat and crossed her arms.

“--We have the finest on hand for this monumental undertaking. Our methods may prove a bit unorthodox, but the potential for catastrophe demands it. You can put your trust in the EPA to control and backpedal any damages irresponsible dumping may have done to this illustrious city. And I promise this city: I’ll get to the bottom of this myself, and locate as many perpetrators as I can. Good day.”

Bensington shooed the media cameras with an angry fat lip, and she pulled Galen along with her by the arm.

“Forgive them,” she started, walking briskly enough that he struggled to match her gait. “They’re scrabbling for any mote of interest. You stood out because you’re comfortable in your suiting.”

“S’the only clothes that really work anymore, Miz Benz. Y’know that--”

They stepped into an alleyway, so the leaden-pale ghoul could bestill himself.

“I apologize that you had to spend your day off this week doing something so... uncomfortable. I know you’ve never been too sociable. I appreciate you attending with me. I wanted my best represented.”

His immediate compulsion was to deflect the compliment, but he caught himself and replied with a self-conscious smile which she mirrored with a genuine one.

“I know there’s more going on with you than simple stage fright. I’ve had the impression that you’ve adjusted pretty well to your position with us. We’ve outfitted you with clothing tailored to your unique physiology, scheduled you according to your limitations, and arranged housing for you on Level 8. Be honest with me, Galen. Do we need to further adjust your accommodations? Just say the word and it’s yours.”

“I... i, i, it’s not just the things y’done for me. Y’already do so much.” He gnashed his teeth a spell, not making eye contact. “Y’said e-cyclin’s gonna continue unhindered. The EPA hasn’t shut down more than three yards at once, t’my knowledge. An’ you’n me both knows just how dangerous Wolfrin is. But... what I, I--” He flinched and flared his nostrils at himself, “tryin’ t’say is... the stulkers not been evacuated yet.”

Warmth filled her face while she formed a response.

“The Stalkers’ Quarter is one of Tri-City’s largest landfills. CTMHW prevents any fusion city from outsourcing disposal to nearby cities. And Tri-City accepts wastes from adjacent non-fusion cities. We can’t halt waste procedures in the entire metropolitan area just because this one landfill sector’s soil is leaching.”

Galen could feel a flush cross his face, and he backpedaled to a previous topic.

“...Forget me mentionin’ it. Th, there is the one thing y’could do for me, since y’mention it. Y’got me set up with a serial an’ a cred account an’ all that... but besides buyin’ my own groceries, dunno how ta be a Leveler. Used t’read a ton before all this happened. Told that ta the Fultonites an’ they brought me a reader. Y’can pro’lly guess ‘bout how long that lasted. Used t’read physical copies, back before all this. Lotta the books, I, I fished outta the yards myself. Sides that, Pretty much lived in the school library back when I, I-- was still goin’. Hopin’ maybe... maybe you’d get me a library card? For Central? Always wanted t’be able t’borrow somethin’ from Central.”

“You need enrichment. Entertainment. Of course. And you’re worried your habituations would risk any technology that came into your possession. Paper products aren’t among your nutritive sources, nor have I really noticed you crave it... If you’re confident you’ll be comfortable with a physical copy, then consider it done. I’ll call my contact at Central and have it arranged this afternoon.”

He hadn’t expected her to agree so readily, and his jaw slacked.

“Thanks, Miz Benz. Y’got no idea how much it means t’me.”

“Is there anything else? You’re doing so well with the Golbrook site. I’d love to honor your hard work with a little token of gratitude.”

His eye widened, and in one stunned motion he pushed his hood back to run his gloved hand over his slicked undercut.

“...Really, the library card’s huge. But if y’willin’ to negotiate the rules... Maybe ya’d lemme keep another... say, five pounds a copper? Been distractin’ myself in my apartment with lots a art. Gettin’ pretty good at it, to be fair.”

Bensington chuckled, relishing the notion he had begun purposing his sweat toward learning how to sculpt with it.

“You’re currently allotted a hundred pounds, correct? One-oh-five doesn’t seem unreasonable. That’s fine. I’ll notify the CERCLIS supervisor you’re working with this week.”

“Really, gosh, you’re the best. If a body’d told me workin’ for the city’d be anything as gracious as this, would’a been with it from the start!”

“I’m a rare employer, and you’re an even rarer employee. You wouldn’t find a better job arrangement than you have with the EPA.”

“--With you. I’ve. I. I got trouble talkin’ with the sup’s y’got me under. Nothin’ ‘gainst ‘em but... you. You listen. Really listen. Y’get it. Get me.”

She glanced to her reader, then returned it to her pocket.

“Well, right now, if that’s all we needed to discuss, what I’ve got is an appointment I have to be getting to. If you think of anything else, don’t hesitate to communicate with me, all right? You’ll be transferring to your next site by next week. I’ll speak with you again when I liaison for you.”

“Hope it goes smooth,” he thanked sheepishly.

“As do I, your week.” She patted him on the shoulder, and started back to the media circus. “Enjoy the library. I’ll ping you when your account’s live.”

He waved her off, smiling strangely to himself, then excused himself as well. He passed the cred-chip embedded in the wrist of his left glove over the payment node when he loaded into the public lift back up to Level 3, and got more comfortable in the back corner of the car by rolling his coat down to his waist, affixing it with a reflective belt-and-brace harness he produced from an inner pocket. Beneath his gear, he wore a taut high-collar black compression top. He kept on his long black waxed leather work gloves. With a snuffle of the air, he snorted in nuisance that he could smell the product in his hair.

The EPA dress code regulation hadn’t required that he cut his hair, but they had insisted that he style the long part such that the undercut didn’t hang in his face.

As he switched off from the lift to a bus, he resolved to buy a tube of hair gel just to satisfy the desire to suck it out of his locks. He softened at the idea of deviating from his typical shopping list, and busied his mind enumerating all ilk of his comfort foods. By the time he let off at Level 8, he was whistling to himself.

“Miz Benz was right. Should treat myself. Gonna get the good weight oil today.”

[testedtransgressor]

Rebellious Stirrings

Category: Fanfiction - Homestuck Characters: Alpha Bro Strider (Alpha Dave); Alpha Mom Lalonde (Alpha Rose); Grandma English (Alpha Jade) Rating: T Warnings: N/A Originally written: 26 January 2018

Notes: Set in the early 2000s, probably. Rose and Dave are in their 20s. Rose is a single lady who likes to pursue guys who have zero romantic interest in her, apparently...

Another event. Another chaotic mass of swirling ballgowns and overdressed women fussing over their hair and make up, with men strutting about like peacocks with their tails fanned.

Rose Lalonde stood amongst it all, smiling thinly as a courtesy as she sipped a vodka martini, barely listening to the screenwriter who had sought her out of the crowd for what was apparently going to be a one-sided conversation about how the feminist movement was putting perfectly capable screenwriters like himself out of work in favour of some half-polished, female-focused plotline developed by one of the "insane" feminists that were apparently flooding the scene.

"I tell ya, Rose, women should stick to writing books. It's what y'all best at - leave the screen to the guys."

Rose continued to smile thinly at the man, though her gaze had turned deadly cold. Anyone who knew her well knew not to start complaining about feminism around her, but clearly this buffoon missed the memo on that topic.

She had already opened her mouth to respond when a much older woman suddenly seemed to appear from nowhere. Large round glasses reflected the light cast by chandelier yet still not enough to hide her unnaturally vibrant green eyes. She grinned toothily, throwing her arms around Rose's shoulders.

"Rose! I'm so glad to see you, dear! How have you been? Is the new novel coming along well? Oh, you absolutely MUST come and meet my friend, he'll be so delighted you're here! Excuse us,"

Quickly linking her arm in Rose's, and almost spilling some of her drink in the process, Jade English offered a brusque apology to the screenwriter before pulling Rose away, a pathway seeming to open through the crowd for the pair. Rose, cursing at missing such a golden opportunity to put a repeat offender in his place, allowed herself to be dragged along.

"Not that I'm not happy to see you, Ms English, but your timing is impeccable as ever. That one in particular is constantly complaining about the rise of women in media, and I don't know how many more of these oh-so-illustrious social events I can continue attending without expressing my true feelings."

"Never mind about that," English waved a hand flippantly, "He won't be attending any more of these; you're not the first person to raise a complaint. Besides, causing a scene with him will have caused irreparable damage to an alliance that needs to be damage-free. Rose, this is Dave Strider,"

English had dragged her to stand before a male in a plain black suit, with blonde hair styled neatly. As he turned to them, she realised he was wearing a pair of aviator shades, and almost snorted to herself. What was up with this guy? Did he really think so highly of himself that he would seriously wear shades not only indoors, but also at night?

That stoic expression. That relaxed stance. He was, in fact, more underdressed for this event than herself - she in a short-sleeved blouse and skirt, he in a simple three-piece one might wear to work for a business meeting, and the pair of them surrounded by ballgowns and tuxedos. It was only as she processed this thought that Rose realised he wasn't trying to be fashionable or pretentious - he was comfortable with being himself, didn't buy into all of the consumerism and arrogance of the social elite.

"Miss Lalonde," he remarked, smiling ever so slightly as he caught her hand and briefly pressed his lips to the back of it in a gesture that may as well have been forgotten in the modern age. Rose wasn't entirely swept off her feet, but she was impressed with the man's apparent chivalry, turning his back on the conversation with some other male to devote his full attention to the two women before him.

"Jade has told me enough about you that I don't even need to read your biography," he remarked, giving a small smirk to English before turning his attention back to Rose. "She's also told me that you don't like certain baked goods."

Ah. So this was how they knew each other. Briefly, Rose wondered if this was Jade's attempt at matchmaking - after all, they appeared to be the only two people in the room who didn't care about the illustrious event they were attending. And, she couldn't deny, he was strikingly handsome with a figure that appeared to boast some years of hard physical effort hidden beneath that suit (the part of her mind already feeling the effects of the alcohol wondered if he truly was as sculpted as she perceived), and his neatly-styled hair and tailored suit indicated he was aware of fashion trends enough to know what was always stylish.

They spoke for a while, first about her books - she hadn't anticipated anyone at a film festival gala to be so interested in the written arts beyond screenplay, but he had persisted with questions. Then they had discussed his interest in filmmaking; he had begun as a camera operator, worked his way into the production team for a few relatively major films - she noticed that he couldn't resist name-dropping the leading ladies he had worked with, but it seemed to be an unconscious habit more than an attempt to cause her jealousy. Now, he was working relentlessly to develop the comics he had drawn as a teenager into a film or two.

It was somewhere around Rose's fifth (or was it sixth?) vodka martini that they tentatively approached the topic of the Batterwitch. Rose was more than happy, given her state, to describe the various jabs at CrockerCorp's Empress, and Dave quickly explained several of the references he intended to leave within his film. Maybe the people would wake up, though given how eager they were to conform, it was doubtful.

Somewhere around Rose's tenth or twelfth drink was when her motor skills became so impaired that Dave insisted on driving her back to her hotel - not only providing her a safe escape from total social humiliation, but also providing himself with an excuse to leave the event. He didn't drink, and had driven himself there, so it was a simple case of the valet bringing the car around and Dave trying to quiz the name of her hotel from her.

Of course, Rose was having none of that. Mainly because she was on the verge of passing out into an alcohol-fuelled coma and the idea of waking up curled next to a toilet bowl once more was not appealing to her in the slightest.

They ended up at the apartment Dave was renting, devouring pizza while (ironically, Dave insisted) watching some godawful romantic comedy featuring Owen Wilson and Vince Vaughn, Rose curled up next to Dave on the couch with a bottle of water. She flirted at him tentatively, to test the waters during the breaks, or when they changed to another movie, but he didn't seem to even realise.

Maybe Jade had the right idea with this guy. He seemed like a gentleman, and absolutely disinterested in her romantically, as had all the other males she had ever pursued. Sometimes she wondered if her pursuit of difficult bachelors was indicative of some sort of disorder, but she was pulling blanks every time she tried to think of which mental disorder could manifest those types of symptoms.

To his credit, he barely even moved when she shifted closer, and she didn't even catch a hint of a blink when she lay her head on his shoulder, or when she shifted so that she was almost hugging him, putting his arm around her shoulders almost as if the action was subconscious. She wondered how many girls he had been with, less curiosity as the second wave of inebriation hit, and more out of concern for just how difficult it would be to impress him. Well, she was no movie starlet for sure, but she was comfortable enough in her own form to feel confident.

They were onto Cleopatra when she shifted, sitting up properly as the remnants of the alcohol took over her tired mind, playing on the hormones that she usually refused to acknowledge. The hand that had obediently remained in her lap now rose up, tracing a muscular abdomen shielded from her touch only by a thin layer of cotton, twisting his tie around her hand as she shifted to sit up, as he turned his shade-covered gaze on her.

"Rose, what are you doing?"

Still holding his tie, she reached up with her other hand, pulling his shades away. He half-heartedly tried to pull back, but it had no effect and she gently set the shades on the back of the couch, fingers returning to trace his jawline.

"Kiss me, Dave,"

"Wha--? NO!"

She tugged on his tie, pulling him closer, but he raised a hand just in time, covering her mouth before she forced them together. Startled by this, Rose let go of the tie and he reeled back, stumbling away from the couch as she fell back. At least she had broken that stiff, uncaring facade.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" he demanded, taking another step back, "There were over a hundred other dudes at that gala and out of all of them, you tried-- ugh, I can't even put it into words!"

"Fine, I'm sorry for being attracted to you," Rose rolled her eyes, not bothering to sit up, "Next time, I'll do my best to control my raging feminine hormones. After all, a woman who goes for what she likes is not what we want in our perfect, patriarchal society, is it?"

Oh god, now the politics. Sober Rose had apparently been locked away for the night, and now she was at the mercy of her drunk self.

"What? No, that's not what this is!" Dave cried, "You can't be attracted to me, either. That's more messed up than the healthcare system. Jesus, Rose, get a hold of yourself!"

"What, it's messed up for a single woman to be attracted to an apparently single man? Do you know how--"

"You're my goddamned sister! That's why it's messed up!"

Rose stopped as his words hit her, sinking in so fast they flushed away whatever alcohol was left in her system and bringing her to a sobering reality. Slowly, she sat up on the couch and looked up at Dave, mouth hanging slightly open. The revelation was so shocking to her, yet made so much sense. Jade had never even remotely attempted to match Rose up with anyone, had only ever introduced her to other Batterwitch protestors so that they could further their rebellion. How could she have even thought, even for a second...

Something in her expression must have shown, because Dave visibly relaxed, exhaling as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Jade never told you, did she?"

Rose shook her head. She was his sister. They'd even discussed their rare genetic deformity, the eye colours. And she had been too wrapped up in hormones to realise what it all meant. She had mistaken his interest as attraction, his concern as indication of romantic feelings.

Dave sat on the couch beside her, looking like he had just been told off for some childish prank.

"How much do you know about a game called SBURB?" he asked. Rose sighed heavily.

"Not all that much. It invites the apocalypse to the homeworld of anyone who plays it, apparently."

"Not exactly," Dave replied, "The apocalypse will happen, sure. And the game directly links to that. But it doesn't cause the apocalypse itself - the apocalypse was already happening. The game gives a few people a chance of survival..."

[alittletournesol]

Sing Your Soul {JongKey} part 1/?

Sing Your Soul

Foreword: please consider this story as a multi-shot more than a chaptered story. Each part will be short and there must be around five parts. Enjoy.

Part one

The subway was packed with men and women in suits, which didn’t look strange considering it was the evening peak time. Kibum had been lucky enough to get in at one of the first stations and find a free seat, but even though he was used to is, the feeling of being uncomfortably surrounded was almost physically painful. More stations brought more people, forcing him to take as little space as possible by holding his briefcase on his lap.

Almost all his life rested in this briefcase, and every time he found himself stuck between some person and the train’s window, he wondered what he would do if he ever was to lose it or having it stolen. For sure he had made copies of everything on his computer, at his office, but he was the kind of man that has a thing for material things. Although he owned quite a few devices at the leading edge of technology, he remained fond of his journals and other paper diaries.

Being one of the most popular event planners in the capital was all about organisation, and the young man never fully trusted his phone or computer with such important matters. A basic journal, quality felt pens and his favourite pastel highlighters, that was all he needed to do his job to perfection. Moreover, it often impressed clients when they personally came to his office, his neat desk always shamelessly showing his handmade planners. After all, if it could help giving him some more advertising…

A woman’s voice drew him out of his thoughts about this upcoming business party he had been taken on, and he looked up to notice it was actually coming from the loudspeaker and not a real person. He sighed when he heard the worst words ever after a long working day, imitated by absolutely everyone if it wasn’t for the few people adding some cursing words. A technical disruption had occurred, forcing the train to interrupt its usual ride and its passengers to get off. 

Checking the wagon’s screen, he felt even more annoyed since he realised he was stuck at Sindang, so seventeen stations away from his stop. He could give up on a potential walk home, this would take way too long… but he had a real map in his head, and he knew he could take another line at this station to reach his best friend’s bar. Perhaps he would find one of their common friends there who would accept to give him a ride home. Things weren’t going too bad in the end !

As he went with the flow and made his way out of the train, he struggled to weave in and out, most people not as quick-witted as him when it came to find another itinerary. With a few nudges and stumbles, he managed to escape the crows and sighed with relief when he had a moment of peace on the escalator. 

“Gosh, I hate people.” He mumbled as he dusted his expensive jacket, hissing when he found an ugly fold on his arm. “Bovines in suits.”

When he reached the ground floor, he held his briefcase against his chest to make sure he wouldn’t drop it in his haste, and looked for the stairs leading to the line he had to take. In no time and thanks to the few signs, he found himself on the right platform and the display announcing the next train in three minutes. It was his first time taking this line and he was surprised not to see a lot of people around him. After all, at such an hour in the early evening, every platform should be crowded. His quiet question found an answer when he eventually show a bit more of interest to his surroundings : he finally heard. 

It was a voice, masculine but pleasantly crystalline, resounding against the tiled walls of the station. Kibum turned his head towards the source of this strangely appealing sound, and found a dozen of persons, men and women, adults and teenagers, almost pressed against each other in a corner of the platform. They were all offering him his back, but there was no doubt the melodic voice came from something they were hiding from his sight.

Two minutes.

His curiosity ended up winning over his boredom, and he elbowed his way through the few people already approaching the rails, expecting to enter their wagon first. The more steps he made, the clearer the voice grew, and the young man made out the familiar sound of an acoustic guitar’s strings being grazed. The melody was setting an utterly cozy and warm atmosphere that contrasted so much with the dull and autumnal cold in the station. It was like a fireplace had been placed in that corner, the flames’ warmth being lit by the stranger’s tone.

One minute.

Kibum was a rather tall man, however he struggled to find his place in the already standing audience, as small as it was. When he eventually stood between an umpteenth man in suit and a teen whose clothes smelled of cannabis, his breath was taken away. Not because of the smoker’s unpleasant fragrance, but thanks to the face he could finally put the voice to.

He was there, sitting on a foldable stool with his legs crossed to hold the guitar, his grey jeans ripped at the knees and large boots reminding of soldiers’. His fingers brushing the strings were shining with a few rings, all silver except for a thin, black one that matches the all black hoodie the young man was wearing. Indeed, young he was, and even his hood couldn’t hide it. His platinum blonde bangs were covering his forehead but Kibum could see his features, sharp but so well drawn, as if sculpted in marble. High cheekbones, straight jawline, fleshy lips…

Ding ding ding.

The event planner’s observation was interrupted by the loud sound alarming the upcoming closing of the wagons’ doors. Kibum got startled and noticed he was the only one still looking at the subway singer. He didn't know what kind of adrenaline made him shove his hand in his jacket’s pocket to pull a bill from there and throwing it in the guitar’s case on the floor, before he jumped in the wagon right before its doors closed on his leg. His heart missed a beat when he looked through the pane and found the blonde man looking at him with a soft, grateful smile on his lips.

Before he could even return it, the train was gone, and the stranger’s smile with it.

When he pushed the bar’s door, Kibum was welcome by the smell of leather and alcohol, sweetened by cologne’s fragrance. It was still a bit too early for the place to be crowded but a few regular customers were already sitting here and there, sharing a beer with friends or drinking more refined drinks on their own. It was a quite comfortable space, not a common pub where one’s only objective was to get drunk and fights occurred often. No, the Blue Night wasn’t this kind of business.

The brick-built walls were enlighten with dark but soft shades of blue and purple by the few spotlights hanging here and there, enough to not plunge the large room in the dark. The only brighter sources of light came from neons : one horizontally hung above the counter and some lighting the considerable wall shelf, made of glass and showing an impressive exhibition of many and varied bottles of alcohol. 

The furnitures had been chosen to match the lighting, biggest pieces black but stools, chairs and seats verging on a midnight blue. But the thing that was making this bar special was the raised stage at the end of the room, hidden behind a thick curtain that night : performances only happened on Wednesdays nights. However, some jazzy music could be heard from the speakers, accentuating the wish of a comfortable, welcoming space.

Kibum smiled, his shoulders relaxing a bit as he walked to the counter and sat on one of the high stools with his briefcase on his lap. His best friend was busy serving a couple at a table, he had noticed when entering, so he waited by taking his phone and checking his few notifications on social medias. As he scrolled the news feed on his favourite application, he fell on a video showing a little girl joining a group of street dancers and having fun, encouraged by the young men clapping their hands. 

This made him thing that perhaps the stranger of Sindang station had been filmed as well ? Without wasting a second more, the young man typed the station’s name in the location’s research and started scrolling. He felt a bit like a creepy stalked but he couldn’t deny he had been… hypnotised, both by the sound of the blonde’s voice and the smile the latter had offered him. Never had he witnessed a smile like his.

“What can I get you, pretty boy ?”

As if he was caught red-handed, Kibum hurriedly put his phone screen against the counter, looking up to meet his best friend’s eyes, one eyebrow cocked.

“And that was definitely weird.” The tall man commented, his hands busy drying a glass with a  dish towel. “What were you doing, watching porn in my bar ?”

“If I was to watch porn in your bar, Minho, I would bring a flat screen and hang it so everyone can enjoy the show.” The customer retorted, making the other laugh. “I’m completely serious, don’t try me.”

“I know that, I just imagined the thing happening and well… totally you. So, wanna drink anything ?”

“Depends. Is it on the house ?”

“I have a business to run here, so not a chance.”

“Come on, I’m your best friend.”

“More reasons to make you pay twice the price.”

“You really are an asshole.”

“Learned from the best. So, what about a good old mojito with extra mint ?”

“Make it as virgin as me, handsome.”

“Double dose then.”

Kibum winked at his best friend and watched him prepare his drink, glancing at his phone and putting it back in his pocket. Once he had his glass in front of him, he caught it and stirred it a bit before taking a long, well-deserved mouthful. The mint immediately refreshed him to the core and rhum shook his body from inside : that bastard really had extra dosed it. Minho looked at him drink and laughed before he threw the towel on his shoulder, standing opposite his friend while doing a bit of the dishes for the time he wasn’t needed.

“So, how’s work going ?” He asked, his eyes going from the sink to the other man. “Summer is over so it should be a bit lighter.”

“Fall is the season of business meetings, you know what it means.” Kibum replied, running a hand through his brown hair. “The need to impress the other part by planning them in luxury places and all.”

“Sounds like you were hired on one ?”

“Yeah, the guy wants it big. Forty of them, a whole weekend in Jeju. I have to book a hotel and by that, I mean the whole hotel, with a privatised beach and open bar at night.”

“If you hate these so much, I don’t get why you don’t specialise your company. You’re more into festive events, big parties at night clubs or classy receptions… so why bothering yourself with business men and their rich kinks, or even weddings and the whole mess it implies ? It’s not like you need to make your name bigger in the field, you’re quite popular already.”

“Sure I am, but if I specialise now, there will be slack periods and I can’t stand that. More covered areas means more customers, so more demands and waiting, and that’s how I keep improving my company’s renown.”

“Don’t overwork yourself, Bum, not again. I don’t want to have to put you out of your anxiety once more, you managed to heal your addiction to work so please, be careful.”

“I won’t dive back into it, I’m just saying that specialising now would make me lose way too many customers. I will, but later.”

The bartender nodded but his eyes remained worried until he hid it behind a welcoming smile when a group of young adults entered the place. He excused himself to his friend and walked away with his notepad and pen in hand, welcoming the new customers and taking their drinks’ order. For the short time he stayed on his own, Kibum drank more of his mojito and took his phone again, resuming his previous activity. He didn’t have to search for long, a first video showed up and it was clear enough to show the subway singer, sitting on his stool and singing with his guitar.

The brunette didn’t put the sound on for now, but saved the video so he could go back to it later, when he would be at his place. After a few more scrolling, he had saved eight videos and a satisfied smiled was drawn on his lips as he closed the app and checked his agenda. He was starting later than usual the day after, he would have plenty of time to watch everything in his living room. 

“Customers are showing up.” Minho suddenly appeared behind the counter, working fast on the drinks he had to make. “I won’t be able to chat a lot, it’s Friday so… you know.”

“Yeah, rush hour is coming.” His best friend nodded, emptying his glass. “Just pour me a second one once you’re done and I’ll hit the road anyway. I was hoping Jinki would be there because I needed a ride home.”

“No train ?”

“Got stuck at Sindang, had to take the 6 to reach here. I’m not that far from home but I don’t know if my line works again now.”

“It only needs a text from me to make Jinki come, you know ? He won’t mind, he appreciates you enough to make a two-ways trip.”

“Sometimes I’m glad you have your boyfriend wrapped around your finger. You two can be grossly cute but well, I must admit you’re useful.”

“Remember. Best friends, additional fees. Think again.”

“I would be honoured to have your deliciously kind beloved one giving me a ride home, Ming.”

With a laughter, the taller man left his friend to serve his customers and welcome more, before he brought him his second class. Between two orders, he took his phone and placed it between his ear and shoulder, calling his boyfriend while washing glasses. As expected, Jinki didn’t even try to understand and told him he would be there shortly. Kibum thanked his friend by adding a tip to his bill, even though Minho hated when he did that. That’s when he realised about the missing money in his pocket.

He had given a bill worth of fifty thousands of wons* to the subway singer.

Soon enough, the bartender’s boyfriend was here and he chatted a bit with both of them before leading the event planner to his car. Two mojitos weren’t enough to make him lose it, however Kibum had perhaps drunk them a bit too fast, considering the dizziness he felt when he stood up. The car ride took a good twenty minutes, entertained by Jinki listening to his friend’s rambling about the business event in Jeju, and himself talking about his recent days spent at the recording studio.

But at the slightest mention of his job in the musical industry, though still not as high as he would, the brown haired man lost himself in his thoughts. His mind got carried away to the subway station where he had witnessed the most beautiful show ever — but he wouldn’t tell Jinki yet. How came this stranger hadn’t been noticed by some company with a voice like his ? Kibum hadn’t been able to hear much, but he had heard enough to be sure this young man had a real gem in his throat. 

Singing in the subway could be entertaining, but at the end of a day, had the man earned enough to live ? Where did he live, by the way ? Was he a homeless person ? Didn’t he have any family to help him if so ?

So many questions assaulted the event planner’s mind, but one thing was sure : he would wait the next morning to be a bit sober, to study these videos. Only then, he would see if he would get off at Sindang station again, this time purposely.

part two

[corneliussteinbeck]

GSS Spotlight: Concita Thomas

Name: Concita Thomas Age: 40 Location: Dallas, TX

What does being a Girl Gone Strong mean to you? Being a Girl Gone Strong means that I take ownership of my life and results — both the good and the bad. I acknowledge that my actions influence my outcomes. If I don’t like the outcomes that I am getting from the gym or from life, it is up to me to take different actions. It also means that I accept that outcomes aren’t guaranteed — even when I do my part. I get to balance determination and patience. The determination is to do my part and the patience is to allow God to do His part. The patience part isn’t my strong suit, but I am working on it.

How long have you been strength training, and how did you get started? I have been strength training regularly for the last 14 years. However, I started playing around with weights about 26 years ago — back when Step and Sculpt classes were popular.

What does your typical workout look like? Most times I am training to be able to keep up with my kids and feel good in my clothes so I don’t usually follow a strict training program. My aim is to get the most work done in the shortest amount of time. I stick to basic primary movements and get creative with my exercise stacking and rest periods to challenge myself. My workouts always includes some mix of squats, deadlifts, push-ups, pull-ups, and combination movements like squat and press or lunge and upright row. However, I do enjoy training shoulders and glutes for aesthetic purposes. So, sometimes I add extra isolation moves for those areas.

Favorite Lift: Deadlift! There is something so empowering about lifting heavy weight off of the floor. Plus, the skill carries over beautifully into real life. Moving furniture solo really is no big deal and I like that.

My second favorite is the Turkish Get-Up. I don’t practice it in the gym often anymore. However, when I became a mom, I really appreciated all of the TGU practice I had done.

There is something magical about being able to get off the floor with a 30-pound toddler who is fast asleep on top of you without requiring any help.

And, getting her into bed without waking her up makes me feel like a superhero.

Most memorable PR: I have two. Doing three unassisted pull-ups and doing deadlifts for reps with 215 pounds. These happened around the same time. This was during a brief stint when I decided to train for strength rather than for conditioning or aesthetics. It was pretty exciting to see how strong I could get in such a short amount of time. However, I didn’t keep training that way for long. At the time, I was more interested in training for obstacle races and keeping my workouts short.

Top 5 songs on your training playlist: What is that? Seriously, I have to admit that I don’t even have one anymore. Most days, I slip into the gym early in the morning as quietly as possible so that I don’t wake up anyone in my family. Most times, I just enjoy the silence before my family wakes up. Other times, I listen to a sermon from church or turn on Pandora radio. The station varies depending on my mood. Sometimes it is Instrumental Hip Hop or 90s Hip Hop. Other times, it is Neo-Soul. If my daughter wakes up and joins me, it is the Toddler Music station. Super weird selections but I just go with whatever mood I am in that day.

Top 3 things you must have at the gym or in your gym bag: My sports bra is the only requirement. No sports bra, no workout.

Do you prefer to train alone or with others? Why? I like a mix of both, but I train alone most times. I am extremely outgoing and give a lot of my energy when I engage with others. My workout time is my time alone to replenish that energy. Plus, my workout time varies wildly depending on my family schedule, work schedule, and my daughter’s sleeping patterns. I prefer not to add coordinating times to that mix.

I like to train with others from time to time though mostly to push myself. Every time I work out with someone else who is serious about training, it pushes me to level up even more. It isn’t about outdoing the other person but partner training helps me to see where I am holding back or staying in my comfort zone. I like that.

Most embarrassing gym moment: Well this has happened more than once. But, I would have to say I find it pretty embarrassing when I am really struggling on the last leg of a tough dropset. I promise no one ever walks by on the big bad heavy sets but the parade begins as soon as I am struggling with the lightest weight. It is kind of comical. The weird looks are hilarious.

Most memorable compliment you’ve received lately: The other day, my husband sent me a text to tell me that I was really doing a good job with life in general. It was right after I had screwed something up. So, it was the perfect little reminder that I don’t have to execute perfectly every single time. Doing my best and caring still trumps everything else.

Most recent compliment you gave someone else: I told my friend that she was better than she realizes at what she does for a living and that she can totally charge more. Funny part is that I am her client too.

Favorite meal: Any seafood meal that involves well seasoned crab or shrimp works for me.

Favorite way to treat yourself: Hands down… A VACATION! I love to travel.

Favorite quote: “To whom much is given, much is required.”

What inspires and motivates you? My ancestors and my family inspire me. When I remember all of the obstacles that those who came before me have navigated, it makes my day to day problems seem miniscule. I look at their sacrifices and triumph and know that I can handle what’s on my plate. Looking forward to the legacy that I want to leave for my family gets me going on the good days and keeps me going on the bad ones.

What do you do? I am a Food & Fitness Strategist. Sounds fancy but that means that I help women who are on a weight loss journey figure out how to move and eat in a way that gives them results without making the process a second job. I do that through my Coaching Club and one on one coaching.

What else do you do? Whenever I get a chance, I travel. Even if I just go across town to a hotel where someone else is responsible for making the beds. Outside of that, I enjoy trying adventurous activities. So far, I have tried speed boating, riding an ATV, stand-up paddleboarding, and indoor surfing. Skydiving is still on the list. I haven’t found that one thing that I do over and over again. Although, stand-up paddleboarding is the one that I have done most often.

Describe a typical day in your life: Most days, I get up around 4:30 a.m. That is my time for reading the Bible, drinking coffee, and working out. After my workout, I shower and get dressed and wake up my family. The morning is spent making breakfast and lunch and preparing to do morning drop off. After everyone is dropped off, I work. Depending on the day, work includes training clients in person, doing coaching calls with my online clients, writing articles or workouts, and interacting on social media.

I am usually able to squeeze in a leisure walk while I check in with clients online. I’m sure I look strange pacing up and down the street while staring at my phone but that works for me. Work lasts until around 2 p.m. At that point, I hop in the car to go get the kids. Pick up is followed by homework, after school activities, dinner prep, and family time. After the kids are all showered and in bed, I get to hang out with my husband. I am usually asleep by 10 p.m.

Your next training goal: I just signed up to do an Urban Dash. I haven’t done obstacle races for at least three years — definitely before I was pregnant with my daughter. So, I have included more running drills in my training and brought pull-ups back into the rotation.

For what are you most grateful? I am most grateful for choices.As I get older, I take that for granted a lot less.

Whenever I am struggling with a tough decision, I remind myself that I am extremely fortunate to have a choice. I am grateful that in many situations, I get to decide.

Of what life accomplishment do you feel most proud? I would say my first experience with natural childbirth felt like a major accomplishment. Pushing out humans without medicine was hard. It was one of the longest and most intense workouts I have ever endured. I went into it fully realizing that there were no guarantees but determined to do my part to make it happen.

So the backstory is that outside of the gym, I do not tolerate pain well. Actually, I just avoid it. For example, my doctor still uses pediatric needles on me whenever I get blood work because the bigger ones hurt. So, you can imagine the doubt that my husband had when I announced that I wanted to have a natural childbirth.

While we were going through our Bradley Method classes, he kept reminding me that I didn’t have to do this if I changed my mind. For some reason, I felt that this was the path for me. I couldn’t really explain it. I just knew it. The experience was a physical representation to me of what is possible when make a commitment and get the right training to do something you feel called to do.

I often draw on that experience when I face hard things or I am tempted to give up on something that I know I am called to do.

Which three words best describe you? Optimistic, Resilient, and Tenacious

What’s the coolest “side effect” you’ve experienced from strength training? I get a kick out of being able to do things that people assume that I can’t. So whether it is carrying all of my groceries and my toddler into the house in one trip, lifting my toddler and her stroller onto the rental car bus at the airport, or beating my son’s friend and his mom in a foot race after school, I just like feeling capable beyond expectation. That smile on my son’s face after we won was a nice little bonus too. To me, physical capability is a silent message to take me seriously — even beyond physical stuff.

How has lifting weights changed your life? I have always been tenacious, but I have always been a big rule follower. I tended to expect things to always turn out right if I took the right steps.

I think lifting weights has made me more comfortable with unpredictable progress.

Lifting weights has taught me that you can do everything right and things still may not turn out the way you expect. The process has taught me to accept that things getting ugly before they work is OK and sometimes a necessary and valuable part of the process.

What do you want to say to other women who might be nervous or hesitant about strength training? Try it. You may like it. If you don’t like it, you can always stop. There really is nothing to lose!

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