RFD Issue 100 Winter 1999 by RFD Magazine Gay

Yes, I want to help tell the story o f Harry Hay and the lesbian and gay rights movement. My donation is enclosed. J

$2500

2 S .000 E x e c u tiv e P ro d u c e r’s C irc le Includes most prominent listing in the credits, advance screening of the film,

unlimited tickets to the gala premiere, a Protect T-shirt and a videocassette of the project and a string of faux pearls J

(1 0 0 0

D ir e c t o r ’s C irc le Includes prominent listing in the credits, unlimited tickets to the gala premiere, a Project T-shirt

and a videocassette of the project J

$ 7 5 0 P ro d u c e r's C irc le Includes prominent listing in the credits, tickets to the premiere, a Project T-shirt and a videocas-

sette of the project J

$ 5 0 0 D ir e c to r o f P h o to g ra p h y Includes prominent listing in the credits, tickets to the premiere, and a Proiect T-shirt

_J $ 2 5 0 P ro d u c tio n M a n a g e r Includes prominent listing in the credits and a Project T-shirt J

$ I 00 P ro d u c tio n A ssis ta n t Includes listing in the credits and a Project T-shirt

$ 5 0 Includes listing m the credits and our eternal thanks

_J $

(other amount) Includes listing in the credits and our eternal thanks

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Zip _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ Phone ______________________________________ email —— ------------------------------------------------------- ---------P le a ie m a ke y o u r ta x d e d u c tib le d o n a tio n to: F ilm A r ts F o u n d a tio n /H a y P ro je c t a n d m a il to : T h e H a r r y H a y D o c u m e n ta r y P ro je c t, 158 B e u la h Street, Son F rancisco, C A 94117.

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Chairs in Barn Breezeway

Between the Lines F eatu res Keeping with the theme of our 26th year, Celebrating Queer Communities, three features enliven these pages. Within a month of Faerie Camp Destiny’s A Con vocation of Communities Matt Bucy and Gabriel Q produced a comprehensive and playful report. Deadly Nightmare and Sapphire, two resident-stewards at Nomenus Sanctuary, in between their daily tasks of maintaining safe queer space and publishing their newsletter The Raddish, also prepared this additional project on Nomenus’ visionary past and present. We are impressed with both groups’ timely and skillful presentations, and are honored to print them.

Heather Ferguson

over the next three issues. Our thanks to all the writers who gave of their time and talents and special appreciations to our fiction editor, JanNathan. Please look for ward to our 3rd Rural Fiction Contest to be announced in the spring issue.

N ow we are 100 Celebrating with Gifts and G ivexA'W ays

Here we are-100 issues old-in the sec ond season of our 26th year. Why, the Our spirituality editor from a close-up per mathematicians among you may ask, spective offers a meditation on media and since RFD is a a quarterly, didn't that happen with the last issue of our 25th violence. There is also an excerpt from year? Well, two issues during our twentyAndrew Ramer’s spiritual classic, Two Flutes Playing, brother johannes reflects six years were doubled. Be the first to on beauty disguised as prince charming write us and tell us which two issues and Stamen Circle does ritual work on they were and we will give you a free behalf of our animal companions. four seasons- that’s a one year sub scription- of RFD for you or a friend. Our poetry editor provides another eclec tic mix of your artful voices. Thanks, Tom. Also to celebrate the big 100, the first 100 new and/or renewing subscribers Our brothers in prison reach out for during this winter season will each We trust our readers are visually aware of friendship in more than 100 letters that receive an extra season of RFD. That’s our BBB editor laboriously condenses into the international community of Drag 5 instead of 4 issues -with our compli Queens but we bet we’ll surprise some of 100+ classifieds. Thanks, Ravel. ments and gratitude. So please renew or you with San Francisco photographer Chloe Atkin’s stimulating portraits of Drag We remember beloved friends who have subscribe NOW died, Light Eagle and James Broughton. Kings. For twenty years Chloe has And upon your request, every two gift focused her lens on the lesbian club/party subscriptions for friends will get you a Tell Trinity premiers in this issue. With scene in the Bay Area. We are thrilled to humor and advice Trinity puts his genetic free year's extension of your subscrip be printing these fun, sharp, transgres tion. sive and erotically charged images. They wit and divinity degree to work for you. provide the translation, Rough Feisty A winter feast, native plants and the plan Any more ideas for inducements to get Dykes, of this issue’s RFD acronym. ets heavenly dance come to you through you to subscribe? Send them to us-and if our regular and devoted columnists, Bow it’s one we use-you’ll be a winner and F ic tio n s Young, Dancing Mane and Delilah. get a gift subscription. The three top winners of RFD’s 2nd Thanks, guys. Pick & Choose. Join the Rush. Annual Rural Fiction Contest are featured Happy Holly Daze. herein. The three runners-up will appear

F acts

R o u q h Vol

XXVI

F e i s t y No2

]k Issue

e s

#100

RFD is a reader-written journal for gay men which focuses on country living and encourages alternative life-styles. Articles often explore the building of a sense of community, radical faerie consciousness, caring for the environment, as well as sharing gay men’s experiences. Editorial responsibility is shared between the Department Editors and the Managing Editors. The business and general produc tion is centered at Short Mt. Sanctuary in rural Middle Tennessee. Features are often prepared in various places by different groups. RFD (ISSN# 0149-709X) is published quarterly for $20 per year by RFI) Press 247 Sanctuary Lane Liberty, TN 37095. Periodicals postage is paid at Liberty, TN and additional mailing offices. Postmaster: Send address changes to RFD, POBox 68, Liberty, TN 37095. 615-536-5176 ISSN # 0149-709X USPS #073-010-00 Non-profit tax exempt status #62-1723644, a function of RFD Press, Liberty, Tennessee Member: CLMP (Council o f Literary M agazines & Presses)

Chris

Chloe Atkins

E d itors Ravel Weaver, TN B B B /Pen Pals: Lee, TN Contact Letters: JanNathan Long, VA Fiction: Bow Young, NY Food: Leopard, TN Letters, etc: Tom Seidner, NJ Poetry: Spirituality: Dandelion, GA M anagers Cabby Haze Business: Stv Mailing: Keith Thomason Transport: Sr. Missionary P, DeLight Production:

1GLA (Int’l Gay & Lesbian Assoc.) Indexed by Alternative Press Index P.O. Box 33109 Baltimore, MD 21218 RFD Cover Price is $6.50. A regular subscription is the least expensive way to receive it 4 times a year!

Cover Credits God of the Woods 8r Earth Mother

paintings by Lauren O'Leary layout design by Stevee Postman

Contents Features: C elebrating Q ueer C om m unities Camp Destiny Sr Convocation of Communities Nomenus Sanctuary at Wolf Creek Drag Kings Sr more, photos by Chloe Atkins

21-32 41-4 8 33-40

R em em brances Cross Roads: Light Eagle by Bow Young James Broughton by David Steinberg

19-20 60-61

Culinary &â&#x20AC;˘ G ardening Communions by Bow Young The Wild Garden by Dancing Mane

10-11 7

Spirituality) View from a Window by Dandelion From the Spirit Garden by johannes zinzendorf Tasting Joy in Your Body by Andrew Ramer Faerie Fire: Rituals by Stamen Circle

13-14 1S 15 16-16

F iction C on test W inners The 0 Hunt by Peter Melillo Love and Shade by Stella-Na-Gig Greenman Comes by Mickey Ruzich

52-53 54-56 57-59

R egular F eatures Lunar Calendar by Delilah Advice Column by Trinity Poetry

6-9 12 49-51

N etw ork ing Announcements Sr Gatherings Faerie Contacts Brothers Behind Bars Contact Letters Ads RFD Information

5 6 62-64 65-66 67-71 72

C ontributors

Antler Chloe Atkins Swami B Blueberry Bob Burnside David Brown Matt Bucy Charles Butterfield Stamen Circle Cypress Dandelion Delilah Scotty Dog Heather Ferguson Duncan Hilton D. Scott Humphries Hyperion Jai Jombe David Kwasigroh Jan Lynch Bob Maidel Dancing Mane Surjit Mehat Peter Melillo Richard Mitchell Deadly Nightmare Pippin Stevee Postman Gabriel Q Andrew Ramer Roger Sapptvire Scott Severa David Steinberg Aaron Steiner Mark Thompson Trinity Walden Seth Watkins Bow Young bro johannes ainzendorf Joseph Zummach

51 2,33-40,ibc 15 46 30-31 49 21-32 50 16-16 25,27 13-14 6-9 32 1 49-51 49 4 1L. 6 S3 62 66 7

3 52-53 26 41-46 27-26 15,19 21-32 15-16 26 41-46 54 60-61 57 60 12 72 51 10-11,19-20 16 SO

Harry Hay Harry, age 87, who was recently chronicled in RFD with his longterm lover John Burnside, 82, as Radical

f aerie founders, and much earlier as founder of the Mattachine Society, is very ill and being cared for by a cir cle o f close friends in San Francisco. Harry was in hospital being treated for a seriously impacted colon and pneumonia.

He is also suffering

from painfull and debilitating spinal osteoporosis, herniated disks and other ailments. The couple are living in their new Castro area apartment, donated at below market rent-rates by a faerie friend, with some home health care which has been donated by a gay owned and operated health care orga nization for a limited time. Harry is confined to a hospital bed, on oxygen and synthetic morphine and at this time requires round-theclock care. While we are optimistic

ANNOUNCEMENTS Mountain Buffs A gay men’s naturist club based in North and South Carolina and eastern Tennessee. There are currently 111 members, age range of 21 to 70, with monthly local- and quarterly clubevents. Potlucks, camping trips, massage and pool parties, all naked and friendly. A fee o f $15 a year or $20 per couple covers membership, though guests are encouraged to ‘try it out’. For more information contact: Mountain Buffs, PO Box 7673, Asheville NC 28802. Tel: 910-249-6473

Fey Arts Newsletter A new ‘zine from Texas dedi cated to restoring the real magick of daily life as well as work ing towards a new sanctuary in the hill country o f the Lone Star State. Stories, great pictures and a delightfully drawn comic, with plenty o f room for contirbutions and dialogue. Sample issue free with SASE from Hyperion & Swami B, PO Box 2542, Wimberley, TX 78676. email: feyarts@ texas.net

that he will strengthen from his bout with pneumonia and his back will heal enough so that, with physical therapy, he will be walking again, it is a slow and gradual recovery process. Harry and John live on a modest fixed income. The costs o f moving them to San Francisco from Lo^ Angeles and the health expenses, not fully covered by insurancce, are con siderable. We have established a fund for which we are soliciting contributions. Checks can be made out to our fundraiser: Dick Hewetson, or to the Harry Hay Recovery Fund c/o Joey Cain, 501 94117

Ashbury St.,S.F. CA.

Bears, Cubs, Otters and other critters Ron Suresha is soliciting sub missions for BEAROTICA, a collection o f all-new erotic fic tion for Bears and the creatures that desire them, to be published by Alyson Publications. We’re looking for raw sex encounters, as well as tender intimacy, between masculine men with heart. For guidelines, send query with SASE to: BEAROTICA, P.O. Box 1717, Boston MA 02130 email: Bearotica@ spdcc.com 4

Gay Library Belarus Lambda League is look ing for partner organizations around the world, and would be grateful for any new and old gay magazines and books for establishing the first library for Gays and Lesbians in the Republic o f Belarus. Contact: BLL, PO Box 23, 22006, Minsk, Belarus, email: lambdaby@mailcity.com

and GATHERINGS Australian Mardi Gras Faerie Art Show “Hymn to Pan” Next year during Sydney's Gay & Lesbian Mardi Gras we’re organizing a faerie art show extravaganza. The radical faeries are a network of queer men and women who share com mon visions including a belief in the sacredness of the earth anil an under standing that we each have our own path/s that, with mutual support, will lead us to the gardens of who we are. The faerie community in Australia is young and by putting our talents out in the larger queer community we’re hop ing to meet new faeries and to give artists an opportunity to share their tal ents and personal joumies. We’re inviting artists from America and Europe, as well as Australia. We’re hoping to include photos, paint ings, drawings, sculptures, slide shows, video, live internet link-ups, etc. Sacred spaces, sacred objects and per formances that express for each of the artists a personal exploration of their faerie identity. Share this information with any faeries you think would relish the opportunity to show. A spectacular opening will feature camels, drummers, belly dancers and so much m ore.. . This cooperative event will support efforts towards a radical faerie commu nity and sanctuary. Opening Night: Feb 13,2000, 8 PM Alpha House Art Space 226 Union St., Erskinvilie, Sydney NSW 2043 Australia Blessings from below, Martin Moore, Cinder & James Creagh Write to: Radical Faeries, P.O. Box 1220 Lismore NSW 2480 email:radfeymg@hotmail.com Mardi Gras dates ant Feb 11 > March 4, come visit?

RUBBOUT A rubber friendly weekend! March 31 - April 2, A no-registration rubber filled week end guaranteed to put more SNAP into the new century! Info: Bill “Northwind” Houghton, P.O. Box 2253, Vancouver, B.C. V6B 3W2

East Coast Gathering of Gay Men May 26-29, 2000 Join more than 200 nice guys, outdoors in Maryland with Philidelphia Area Naked Guys. P. O. Box 60093, 1500 JFK Blvd, Phi la, PA 19102-0093 215-978-PANG.

email:pangphila@aol.com

Eurofaery Gathering June 30th through July 9th On the beautiful Dutch island of Terschelling — lots of inter-continental faerie love, gixxl fixxl and sea air. $20 to $40 a day, sliding scale. John/Mrs. Ding @

americanvoices(a>wxs..nl or Tel: 011-31-182-678-683

Tender Wonder Our own Leopard has recorded and self-produced a small-run CD of thriteen songs of brotherhood, spirit, trees (and finding love despite having no credit card!). Humorous as well as emotional and from the heart, it is entitled ‘ Tender Wonder.'' Curious? www.rfdmag.org/leopard

Northwind of B.C.

rfd online... The realities — that RFD’s computer often

Short Mountain

runs on quite limited solar power, our

Spring Planting Weekend

phone is in another building and our e-mail

March 24th - 26th Learn about organic gardening and using pennaculture techniques as you help plant the S.M.S. gardens! Come a few days early for the spring equinox, if you can. Please write ahead.

access is only through our friend’s set-up

Yoga Week Advance notice for a week of Yoga, meditation, and sharing experiences of holistic living, early June. I f interested, please write. S.M.S., 247 Sanctuary Lane, Liberty TN 37095 Tel: 615-563 4397

miles away — not withstanding, you can now communicate with RFD online at:

mail@rfdmag.org Please help us by including your phone number, and postal address in all correspondence. Of course, feel free to mail us at:

R ID P.O. Box 68, Liberty, TN 37095

r - F

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Amber Fo* A Radical Faerie Enclave Box 65 McDonald 5 Corners Ontario CANADA KOG 1M0 613/278*2744 email cdot>e@supefafe com Atlanta Faerie Circle 770/446-9946 snakeowl@bigfoot com Austin Area Faeries PO BOX 80618 Austin TX 78708 512/703 8952 info line 512/836 9715 fax email lazarus@bga com http//www realtime net/~lazarus Australian Faeries Now House 79 Prior St Tarragmdi Queensland 4121 Australia Black Leather Wings 1226 25th Ave San Francisco 94122 415/584-1954 email geofw@sirius.com Blue Heron Farm 68 Streeter Rd Dekalb NY 13630 315/347 2178 Boston Faerie Contacts Peter Muise, P O Box 400181 North Cambridge MA 02140 Tel (Fuku)617-522-6466 email.(Helga)shutt@fas harvard edu Canada-Rural Gay Men c/o PO Box 1155, Port Hardy BC VON 2P0 Canada Campo de Artistas Santa Cruz, Nayarit,Mexico, 63778 email camporose@aol com Central NY Faeries email Nick@publiccom.com http://wwwpubliccom.com/web/nick Chicago Faerie Circle (Kale)PO Box 607282 Chicago, IL 60660-7282 (Gwyneth) 773/472-1408 (Fausto)radfaeries@aol.com Crown City Faeries 146 S. Main St #3, Cortland, NY 13045 Tel: 607/745-2577 Denver Faerie Tribe PO Box 18767, Denver, CO 80218 email beest@usWest.net Events 303-733-LICK(5425) D.C. Faeries c/o Eldritch Tel 202/332 4697 email eeldrrtch@aol com E Mail Fairie MailingLIist. Send email to ma|ordomo@queernet org include "subscribe faerie'' or "subscribe faerie-digest" in the mes sage (not s u b le t line) Edward Carpenter Community 1 Cambridge St Hebden Bridge West Yorkshire HX7 6LM, United Kingdom tel 01422-843996 email pbt@dial pipex com http //www users dircon co uk/~papaja/ecc/

r i e

Euro-Faeries www eurofaerie org Dutch Circle c/o John Ferguson, Graaf Florisweg 22 2805AL. Gouda Netherlands email americanvoices@wxs nl Eastern Europe/Baltic Circle c/o Alexander Romenski Vabaduse pst. 165/8 0009 Tallinn Estonia email alrom4all@hotmail com Faerie Camp Destiny PO Box 1492, Brattleboro, VT 05302 Tel: 802/ 257-4871 email gabrielque@hotmail com www faeriecampdestmy.org Faeries on the Web http //www eski mo.com/~davidk/faeries/ email to davidk@eskimo com or call Persimmon Tel 206/935-7762 Fey Dirt Portland OR area info line Tel 503/235-0826 France: Paris Faeries c/o Efthimios Kalos, Tel: 33 1 40 27 02 95 Fax: 33 1 40 27 02 96 email efthimios@aol com France: Les Fees de Montpellier c/o Pierre Vazquez, 38 rue de I’aiguillerie 34000 Montpellier France Tel: 33/04/67 60 89 30 GAYA: Heidelberg Faerie Circle Blucherstr. 1, W-6900 Heidelberg, Germany Germany: Berlin Faeries c/o Horst/Butch Bhudda email: howaberlin@hotmail.com Germany: Rheingold Faeries c/o Geert Oetken, Tel/fax: 49-228443218 email: geert oetken@t-online.de Ganowungo Sanctuary Jay Stratton, 121 Union St., Westfield NY 14787 Holy Faery Database California and Wolf Creek faerie sanctuary events P.O. Box 426732 SF CA 94142 Homodok, gay and lesbian archives, Amsterdam Homodok, Nieuwpoortkade 2a, 1055 RX , Amsterdam, Netherlands, www.homodok nl IDA- Queer artist community PO Box 874 Smithville TN 37166-0874 Tel 615/597-4409 email, trayburn@dekalb.net IMAGINE bloversity-Mens Tropical Permaculture Community PO Box 1463 Pahoa, HI 96778 808/334-3359 voicemail Kawashaway Sanctuary PO Box 6341 Minneapolis, MN 55406 Tel: 715/278-3998 email: paradise@cheqnet net L 'Affaire Beau Monde POB 3036 Pineville LA 71361

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Las Hadas del Sol Faeries of the Sun, San Diego CA 619/226-8161 or 685-7626 Love's Supreme Desire Tabloid Monthly account of life from a pithy, irreverent HIV+ SF faerie artfag peace activist 250Taylor St #606 SF CA 94102 Free via email: bluemoor@earthlink net

Madison Radical Faerie Circle C/O Jonathan Garber 2537 E. Johnson St. Madison, Wl 53704 jgarber@terracom.net Mahantongo Spirit Garden Faerie-friendly pantheist hermitage. RD1. Box 149, Pitman, PA 17964 Memphis Faerie Circle email:stcircumstance@hotmail.com Midwest Area Gay Couples (MAGiC) John Keiber & Paul Moore PO Box 1 1493, Indianapolios, IN 46201, Tel: 317/357-5346. email mcouples@hotmail.com monthly mtgs socials, outings for gay male couples in midwest Nebraska c/o Empire of Stardust Community, P.O. Box 5, Craig, NE 68019 email: arlazarof1@yahoo.com NYC Radical Faeries PO Box 150296 Brooklyn NY 11215 718/625-4505 Nomenus PO Box 170358 SF CA 94117 To visit the Sanctuary: PO Box 312 Wolf Creek OR 97497 Tel: 541/8662678 emailnomenus@budget.net Northeast US and Canadian Faerie email network weekly email news of NY city and NE faeries email: agnes knows@aol.com Northwest Faerie Database NW Faerie events other than Wolf Creek 114 NE 22nd Ave,Portland OR 97232-3104 503/735-4758 email: RavndVill@aol.com

i n

Northwestern Faeries 1510 19th Ave Seattle WA 98122 Philadelphia Faeries c/o Chris Bartlett, 234 N 3rd #103 Philadelphia PA 19106 215/574-0153 bart!ett@critpath org Pittsburgh Faerie Circle 7212 1/2 Meade St Pittsburgh Pa 15208 412-241-8606 jbtshop@telerama lm.com Pumpkin Hollow 1467 Pumpkin Hollow Rd., Liberty, TN 37095 615/536-5022 Rose of Sharon Rt 2 Box 130A2 Elkins AR 72727 501/643-3855 San Francisco Tel-a-Fairy 415/626-3369 Event & message tape for Bay Area faeries Santa Cruz Fairy Line 408/335-5861 Events and message tape for the Santa Cruz area Scaerie Faeries c/o Happy Doodle, Wheaton MD 301/946-0517 hdoodle@erols.com Seattle Phaerie Fone 206-366-2132 Short Mountain Sanctuary 247 Sanctuary Lane Liberty TN 37095 615/563-4397 (messages) Southern California Area Radical Faeries (SCARF) & Faerie Dish Rag (FDR) PO Box 26807 Los Angeles CA 90026 213/666-1350 email: socaradfae@aol.com faedishrag@aol.com Texas Faerie Connection Hyperion & Swami B, c/o FEYARTS P.O. Box 2542 Wimberley TX 78676 email: feyarts@texas.net Vancouver Faeries c/o Marcel Tel: (604)874-2639 email: marcel@vcn.bc.ca Vermont Radical Faeries See: Faerie Camp Destiny Wolf Creek Sanctuary see: Nomenus Zuni Mountain Sanctuary PO Box 636, Ramah, NM 87321 Tel: (505)783-4002 email: sanct.zms@cwix.com

Help RFD

A big thank you to everyone who wrote with updates to this list. We appreciate everyone’s help in keeping this networking tool current. Send additions or delteions, changes or corrections to

RFD-Faerie Contacts, PO. Box 68, Liberty TN 37095.

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hr season allows this evergreen fern to enjoy near ly full sunlight (the deciduous trees having shed their foliage) during the cooler, more moist w in ter months, providing optim um growth condi tions for the fern.

Any youngster who has done much tree climbing in this region has no doubt encoun tered the curious epiphytic fern known as R esurrection Fern [P o lyp o d iu m p o lyp o d ioides]. Often these ferns will com pletely carpet portions of the trunks and m ajor limbs of large hardwood trees. They are also found occasion ally growing on rock escarpm ents and larger boulders in mountainous areas.

The deeply cut leaf blades are dark green and sprout from a creeping, superficial rhi zome. The rhizome sends a dense mass of rootlets into the bark surface, forming a thick mat which traps water, dust, and decaying par ticles.

Resurrection Fern is found almost exclu sively in deciduous hardwood trees, as their bark is more suitable for this fern’s particular lifestyle than conifers, Junipers, etc. Flowever, I suspect the primary reason is that the winter

During dry w eather the fronds of the Resurrection Fern turn brownish and wither and curl into a small ball, appearing to the uninitiat ed to be dead. Flowever, the leaf blades quick ly revive following a rain, thus giving rise to the common name. The stems and leaf stalks are covered with tiny brown scales. The undersides of the fronds are also flecked with these scales. On some of the fronds larger, darker round spots also appear. These are the sori, the special cases which hold the spores produced by ferns. (Ferns bear no flowers or seeds.) These spe cial reproductive bodies will be released into the air when mature. Resurrection Fern is com m on in the south eastern region. It cannot tolerate severe win ters, however, and does not occur much further north than southern Missouri and Kentucky. This delightful and unusual fern is relative ly easy to re-locate on tree trunks, stones, or walls in the home garden. It is also an espe cially delightful addition to a well-ventilated ter rarium. DANCING MANE describes himself as a rural-dwelling long haired natureboy, a sensitive, gentle satyr, intimately bound to nature and the environment, and a passionately dedicat ed gardener/landscaper/botanist who would welcome ques tions, comments, or communications from fellow faerie plant spirits-especially long-haired ones! Write do RFD.

(Greetings everyone, hope that winter is (finding your hearths warm.

The month of January 2 % // 3 / 1 f 5 will start with the old cf crescent moon to the left of Venus in the q & io & / * 11 ii. pre-dawn hours of the U SI -VI ■Jj D 3rd. Later that night, ?<e w the Quadrantids Meteor Shower will 16 b/3i h x id * / $ 14 to-oi tx* h iS pf* take place. The mete d* a £ tytrrtirs ors will appear at a 9*1 O o^ rate of about 50 per 24 rrv, 25 I^/a 2h 23 hour. On the evening M’-oW o < fy of the 10th, the moon E will be to the left of ? Mars. On the evening 3 o / 31 / of the 14th, the half moon will be between Jupiter and Saturn. Jupiter will be the brighter planet. Jupiter and Saturn will be visible in the evening sky until midApril. You can watch the two planets v Aries getting closer to each other daily (from the view-point of the earth, of course). b Taurus Their actual conjunction—when both % Gemini planets reach the same degree of longi-| tude—will happen in late May, and I am Q Cancer very sad to say that it will not be visible P' Leo to us. The evening of the 20th (The 21st, if you live in Europe) will treat us rv>? Virgo to a total lunar eclipse. The eclipse will •£: Libra start at 9:01 PM EST, and reach totality at 10:43 PM. I Scorpio

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The moon will be to the left of Venus early morning on March 3rd. On the 8th, the moon will be to the left of Mars. On the 9th, the moon will be between Jupiter and Saturn. During the pre-dawn hours of the 15th, Mercury will be below and to the right of Venus. It will be a great| opportunity to watch these i 2 a /a 3 ^ V two planets in the morning <$3*PM z-ma^ sky. During late March, you can see Mars approaching OnE. Jupiter from behind (so to * • 56/v 3 * 9v/tt V 1o b 11 b/jr /Jevj Y:SVAm 7 -:o l a* speak). The month will end i A M O’ll-'VM with Mars to the right of Jupiter. The exact conjunc 3Lfc n JE. <T/n) IP Sc n s <5 S/A «)- tion of the two planets will 15W AW15<fM rw 4*/3pm happen on April 6th, but * ¥W D that’s a whole other season, 3-31PM and for the next issue of -A. 21 -ifc Z2-a/r^ V 4 2o 25 /♦ RFD. 6'<> a m 3-MJfP Ge^tvs V

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Wintercopia for Light Eagle It’s Saturday, December...the Winter Solstice. It is the longest night of the year but it marks the return of the sun. The ground shimmers, silver with the lacy shadows of bare trees. There’s a lot of bright light, but very little heat.

tual cornucopia of the bounty of the sea sons. On Summer weekends, the place is alive with a crawl of people moving at an anachronistical^ slow pace for New York City...a dance...a stately “produce pavanne.”

“No...sorry...but if you’re interested in that we have something over here you should see.” And he leads me over to a bundle of echinacea. “Yes...thank you. I saw that. Actually, St. John’s Wort happens to be particular ly gixxl taken along with echinacea.” I added.

But this is Winter. What abundance could a frozen Earth provide? And even if a few vendors had decided to come...it was already 10:30 in the morning...surely A young woman walked over. “What’s the early birds had picked over whatever that?” Covelo and I are having breakfast. As there might have been. Maybe there we sip and talk, he makes an arc with his were some r<x>t vegetables, cranberry “St. John's Wort,” I said. “It’s very gcxxl flattened hand, in flight over the table, in breads and such....muffins. Sbxlge. for you. And with echinacea even better. an imaginary parabola. “At our age, the It’s anti-viral. There are studies being arc is in a downward slope...Summer to But as I round the comer at 14th Street at done on it for possible treatments for Autumn into Winter.” We’d been talk the southern end of the park, I can feel HIV. It’s also a muscle relaxant and an ing about losses and life. Granted, my the unmistakable buzz of the market and anti-depressant. I take it in a 40% tinc life isn’t quite in its Autumn, but it see the canvas stretch of the familiar tent ture made from the weed soaked in is...well, late Summer and the cornucopia village three blocks to the north, wrap vtxlka. My friend gathers it and makes of choices, like the selection at roadside ping down the west side of the park.First it, so I know where it comes from, how stands, is beginning to thin. Or so I it’s grown and how the tincture is made. thing l see is a selection of bee prixlthink. Other worts are really good for women in ucts...honey...beeswax candles and hon particular...helpful if you have difficult eycombs, golden with honey of every I wonder aloud to Covelo if the C?reen stripe: clover, wildflower, alfalfa...and I periods. I think it’s Motherwort that is a Market at Union Square was open this gcxxl tonic for women’s bodies.” Sud want to buy three or four honeycombs weekend? Maybe the vendor/farmers had and taste them all. denly I’m giving herb training in the decided, it’s just before Christmas week middle of Union Square. end, and stayed home with their families Nearby, at the next collection of tables rather than make the early morning trek “That’s pretty amazing,” she said, “I'll north, are bundles of twigs and weeds. from as far away as upstate to the public Rosehips and sumac...bolted mustard, have to find some of that.” park at Union Square. amaranth and dozens of other medicinal herbs....pretty as a picture, to be sure, but Her friend leaned in and offered “I’ve “Probably not,” he says, flipping an egg heard that if you chew seven aduki beans all useful in teas and tinctures and infu over easy in the cast iron pan. “Well...I sions. There’s swamp weed, red twig daily that you can make your period don't know...they probably have some dogwcxxl, monkey tail, foxtail and teasel. come like clockwork.” I walked on. Christmas trees. There might be a few Something called Poor Man’s Pepper. people there.” We finish and decide to The very next vendor was a veritable walk over and see what there is to see. My interest is noted by the vendor, abattoir of wild game and meats. Duck, It’s only a few blocks away. Maybe I rabbit, lamb, goose, turkey, bacon, ham, “L<x>king for anything in particular?” can pick a few things for our dinner. suckling pig, sides of beef. I had been planning a Sp<x>n Lamb for dinner, so I “Do you have any St. John's Wort?” I Union Square Green Market appears like ask. I’d been taking a dose of St. John's picked out a nice shoulder and told the a comestible Bngadoon on Mondays, Wort in a tincture prepared by my friend vendor I would be back to pick it up after Wednesdays, Saturdays and Sundays, Clare for a few weeks now to ward off a I finished shopping. I have a standing filling the asphalt open space, wrapping cold that was dogging me and it was date with Covelo and our other friend around the Italianate pavilion at the north working rather well. A lowly roadside Lola Pashalinski for the first weekend end of the park. Nurtured and sustained weed 1 thought if anyplace in New York after it snows to make this soul-satisfy for years by the needs of fine restaurants City would have it this place might. It ing, one pot meal. Seven hours of slow in the area and the encouragement of would be nice to have a bouquet of it in roasting in a 275 degree oven and the cooks looking for inspiration, it is a vir the house. rich ensemble of white beaas, herbs, veg10

etables, wine and broths feels like a warm blanket for the stomach. I make thyme ice cream for dessert.

SPOON LAMB

ingredients: 1/2 pound dned cannelini beans 3 ounces dned porcini mushrooms As we work our way through the mar 2 tablespoons olive oil ket..lifted along by a big band bounce 14 1/2 pound shoulder of lamb, boned, playing on a radio nearby, at just the trimmed and tied 2 medium, coarsely chopped onions right volume, we managed to find 6 cloves of garlic, finely chopped cheeses and pates, trees of Brussels 3 tablespoons of tomato paste sprouts, pine nuts, sundried chemes and 4 tablespoons of flour cranberries, fresh basil, horseradish and 2 cups of dry white wine buttery' Yukon Gold potatoes. 1 was 2 carrots cut into 2-inch sticks becoming progressively more and more loaded down with everything we needed 2 stalks of celery cut into 2-inch sticks 3 leeks, halved or quartered (dejiendmg to make dinner. on size) and tied together with cotton stnng 1 got to thinking about Covelo’s “down 1 turnip, peeled and diced ward arc.” The lesson seemed quite a large sprig each of parsley, rosemary, clear. Against all intuition here was a thyme, tied together “green” market in the grip of winter, rich 1 tablespoon of crushed black pepper with a panoply of food and the by-prod corns ucts of the harvest if not the whole har 3 whole cloves vest itself. If there was a parallel to be drawn between our lives and the seasons 5 cups of beef, lamb or chicken stock it was this: there is no downward arc 1. Presoak the beans over night. here. Just a change of season, marked with new opportunities and new choices.

Reconstitute the mushrooms in warm water and set aside.

2. Heat oil in a heavy pan and brown the lamb well on all sides. Remove from casserole. 3. Preheat the oven to 275 degrees. 4. Add onion and garlic to the casserole and cook until soft. Blend the tomato paste and the flour to make a paste and add to the onions and garlic. Cook for a few minutes then add the wine. Add remaining ingredients, drain the beans and mushrooms and add them. Bring to a simmer. 5. Return lamb to the casserole, cover and place in the oven. Cook for seven hours. 6. Serve directly from the casserole. It will lx? so incredibly tender it can be served with a spoon.

Native American culture has a different concept of time than Europeans who see time in a continuum...having a past and middle and an end. For Natives, time is a spiral thing. Many of their languages reflect no past or future, just the ever present tense. There is no beginning, middle or ending, just the dance of life to the music of the spheres. I left Union Square laden with my pur chases and walked down to the subway station under the park. At the far end of the platform a solo guitar player strummed and sang ...playing just like Joni Mitchell said: real good and for free. He sang “Feliz Navidad...Feliz Navidad” and the people on the platform listened quietly and bobbed their heads in time to the music. Nearby a couple, wrapped up in each others amis, softly sang along and swayed to the music, sang into each other's ears like it was their secret song and only they could hear. “Besame, Besame Mucho...” and the couple's sway turned into a dance. The man twirled his lover under his arm and they met again in a kiss. Never miss ing a beat the guitar player segued... ”Quisas...Quisas...Quisas” Perhaps...per haps...perhaps...

T^ll TpifiiTy

invited back. But since I can’t find that chapter in my Apollo Wasserman’s Uranus Or My Knish: Tales of Greek & Hebraic Hospitality Ethics, here’s a poem I wrote in hopes that they will get the hint. House Guest Proverb When one's door knocks become one night guests, the door must you open yet give no test! When two nights pass and to stay is their will, fruits and flowers must they offer to fill your till! When a third or forth night still finds them a bed, a fancy dinner must they host else off with their head! But when one week passes, a guest no more, for money must be presented or show them to the door!

Betty Davis (last line) in Now Voyager

Dear Trinity, A guy I ve been dating for the past three weeks just told me he did drag. I thought I would die. He s such a regular guy. I'm afraid seeing him in drag will ruin my sexual attraction for him! What should I do? Sincerely,

Trinity Dear Trinity, Every time I meet a potential boyfriend, it ends up that he's married. Why is it that all the good ones are married? And is it OK to have an affair with a married man, even with consent?

Hello Trinity,

Yours,

You always talk about going after your dreams. But what about when someone doesn't get what

Living in the Moment

they dreamed for. What about those of us with

Drag Doubts.

Dear Living in the Moment, In 1999 marriage means different Dear Drag Doubts, things to different people. So, if he Three weeks isn’t a long time to date says it’s OK and it’s not, then he’s someone and then dump them. the trouble maker, not you. However, you’d be considered an Secondly, I agree. It does seem like emotional weakling. Your higher every time I feel that psychic-soul power obviously put you two together mate feeling for a certain bearded, for some reason. So if you want this bald, heavyweight champion, I find a relationship to work, then ready or wedding band stashed in his side not you’ll have to a) watch him get pocket. Let’s you and I start the dressed, b) dress him yourself or ‘ Second Wives Club,” for those of us even more profoundly, c) do drag who fall for married men. I know with him! Remember, if you’re afraid you’re thinking about me and Bill or have difficulties with something Goldberg (WWF wrestler). I know outside of yourself, the difficulty is you’re thinking that he’s in a relation inside of you waiting to be lived. ship & I’m his ultimate soulmate. I When you face your fears head on deal with this fact every rainy day. that’s when you really start playing Maybe I’m too polite. Maybe I with the big players. should march right over to him, with Big wet drag kisses! my rabbi and trick him into some Trinity Hebraic commitment. Maybe I....Oh yes, you and your problem. Sorry! Dear Trinity, For now you and I should both be For some reason my house guests who stay careful. And if you find yourself in for a few days, never show their apprecia real trouble, a change of hair color tion. Not even a box of cookies! Is it wrong and address always works for me! to expect gifts of appreciation from a house Live dangerously-but get the dia guest? monds first! Politely Yours, Trinity House Guest Horrors

Dear Trinity.

Dear House Guest Horrors, According to ancient Greek and Hebraic traditions, it was wrong to expect gifts from an overnight guest. But, to stay any longer a guest was expected to offer gifts of appreciation to their host. Otherwise, they were considered swines. Never to be

Dear Oh So Sad, In an agreeable breakup the first step often means being friends. But if you’re that mad about him and he knows it then he probably spends most of his time dealing with your desire to get back together. When someone says, ‘ Let’s just be friends.” more often than not that really means, ‘ Let’s end it.” I’m sure you yourself have been on that side of the fence before. And ‘ Let’s be friends." seemed the most kind way to end it. My advise to you is MOVE ON! You WILL meet another man. Don’t wallow in your sorrows; rather pick up your butterfly net and go back into the woods. Kisses, Trinity

I'm madly in love. But recently, my boyfriend told me that he, "Just wants to be friends.” Now I'm an emotional mess. He lets me visit him and we talk by phone. But I'm staying friends with him even though I yearn to be lovers. What should I do? Pitifully Yours. Oh So Sad

full work weeks and bills and long term troubles, who don’t get time to fulfill our dreams. What about us? Sincerely, No Time To Dream

Hello No Time To Dream, To you I say, DETERMINATION! To you I say, BE PREPARED FOR A MIRACLE. Any great artist, writer, producer will tell you that in between their morning and evening full time jobs they made time to follow their dreams. I myself hold two full time jobs. When most of my friends are dining out or dancing till dawn I’m home answering these letters, rehearsing my next show, working on my dream. I never ever have time for me (Evita Peron tears). When you let your dream shine it’s light on you then you find time. I’m sorry about the bills and the long term troubles. But if you want to dream with the big dreamers then say good-bye to reality and hello to blood, sweat and tears. And if you don't get what you want, keep trying until it hurts, until it alters your entire perception of reality. Because in that moment you and your dream become one. The truth shall set you free! Trinity To have your questions answered by America's top advice columnist write to :

Tell Trinity. PO Box 1362, Provincetown, MA 02657-5362. Also visit Trinity at TellTrinity.com or email her at trinity@telltrinity.com Just do it!

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A V iew from a W in d o w

one of the first symptoms of post traumatic stress syndrome is when surreal events seem normal.

After two hours of waiting the SWAT team rushed through the fire exit into our office and herded us down the stairs and across the street. Later A police helicopter arrived, circling It was Thursday afternoon and I was fin the TV would show crowds of office around and around the roof like an ishing up my work for the day. I thought workers running across the street in angry wasp. One of the top execu about slipping out early; usually nobody apparent panic but it was mostly tives in our office gathered us cares and I had lots to do at home. I because the police had told them to. together and announced that a for decided to stay though. A few minutes There was more confusion, more later a system alert window popped up on mer employee had shot someone in the office of another company down waiting. I looked up at the my computer screen, “Please do not building-quiet, unchanged. I thought stairs. He might still be in the build attempt to leave the building. A police action is taking place in the parking lot.” I ing. We should keep the doors to the it would be easier to grasp the public hall locked and stay calm. We tragedy of it all if there were smoke snapped into bitchy queen mode. ‘A went back to the windows. A flock of and flames, or a gaping hole with police action?! In the parking lot?” The parking lot covers most of an acre, is two media helicopters arrived, circling out shattered glass lying beneath it. In and a half levels deep, and has three dri of range of any possible gunfire, and the end, the only evidence was a carpet mutely and ominously missing we went looking for radios. Several veways spaced over a hundred yards of were found and we tuned in the local from the elevator the next morning. Piedmont Avenue. “The police couldn’t news to find out what was really possibly be taking up the whole parking The people who were evacuated into lot” I thought, “And I’ll just go down there going on. Former day trader...mas the parking lot were allowed to take sive debt...a dozen people and tell them they can darn well let me their cars and leave but those of us get my car. I need to get home.” I deleted shot...several dead...whereabouts who came out on the front side were unknown...Mark Barton. the message and went back to work. sent across the street to wait. I was lucky. I happened to be standing Over the next few minutes several people One man was wheeled out to an ambulance in the parking lot. He was near a small group of people who walked by my office looking disturbed. I saw someone driving off and com decided I should find out what was going on oxygen but not visibly injured. plained to a policeman. He took us After that the ambulances were on. I went across the public hallway to back across the street to get our the area where the rest of my department pulled up next to the door under the cars. Several hours later, some peo porch. On the street side of the is and found everyone standing in the ple I work with finally gave up and building Piedmont road was blocked outer offices, faces pressed against the called friends to come take them off several blocks in both directions. glass. Looking out I realized that the home. When I got home I logged At one time I counted fifty police police cars were in the parking lot, onto AOL naively unaware that the cars, eleven motor cycles, half a twelve of them, along with several afternoon had been national news. A dozen ambulances and a long black EMT vans, but the “police action” friend in Boston asked me how I was. sedan. Police were everywhere. In was taking place inside the building. “Not well," I said and calmly began one office several women were look SWAT team officers in bulletproof the story. He freaked, “You were ing down on the street cruising vests were running into the main there! Oh, my God! In THAT build policemen. One of the women wolf lobby carrying automatic rifles. A coworker guessed that there must be whistled. I discretely took a peek. He ing? Are you OK?!" “I’m fin,” I replied was a hunk. Nothing about the whole touched by his concern, surprised a hostage situation somewhere. I guessed I wouldn’t be getting my car thing seemed the least bit odd. Later that he had heard about it, unaware that I was actually still in shock. the crisis counselors would say that and leaving soon.

by D andelion

The truth hit the next morning. First the news trucks, dozens and dozens of them, lining the streets for blocks around the building when I arrived at work. Then the orange juice and doughnuts being solicitously doled out in the lobby. I immediately thought of the cookies and Koolaide my mother used to give me when I fell down and skinned my knees. I took the doughnuts. I like doughnuts. This was way more than a skinned up knee, though. A few minutes later in our break room, getting cof fee a coworker said, rhetorical ly, ‘ Nine people...there were 14 killed at Columbine." I went back to my desk, turned on my computer, and it all hit me, like a fist in my chest, knocking me back in my chair as tears blurred my eyes. I fought to keep breathing as a tidal wave of emotion washed over me; everything- grief and fear and anger and confusion and despair. For an hour I sat that there both paralyzed and pan icking. Then I turned the com puter off and went home. Nothing had happened to me and everything had happened. Watching tragedy through a win dow, narrated by radio commen tary, is not much different than watching it on TV. It’s like a movie without the popcorn, except that if you need to leave the theater for the restroom you might be risking your life by walking down the hall. The police handled everything with perfect pro fessional aplomb. Building manage ment kept reporters off the property, and the crisis counselors were gracefully caring, even thanking me for trusting them enough to admit that I was Gay; it was relevant to our con versation. The morning after, city workers efficiently swept the streets and carried away the portable barri cades. Everything was handled with horribly flawless precision. I'm fine now. After a few weeks, I stopped holding my breath at the sound of a helicopter, and I stopped feeling sick every time the elevator opened on the third floor. I’m no

longer frightened by somes.one knocking on the windowless door into the public hallway just outside my office. It was only a few weeks of trauma; after all nothing happened to me; I just saw it through a window. There’s one thing I can’t get over, though. As grateful as I am for the care that was taken for my safety and well being, I can’t help feeling that we shouldn’t be so good at deal ing with tragedy as unspeakable as this.

The Tower, a major arcana card in Stevee Postman’s Cosmic Tarot deck.

We’ve had too much practice with murder and mayhem. Our culture supports a whole industry of crisis response. Counselors and reporters and doughnut carts travel across the country from disaster to disaster. Actions that should leave us speech less and bewildered are professional ly prepackaged in contingency plans. The police on the scene when Barton killed himself couldn’t say what they saw. They had to wait for their “Public Information Officer” to say it for them, though some photographer snapped a gruesome picture, and doubtless made a year’s salary when it ran, a week later, in Time maga zine. Events that deserve to be cap 14

tioned with ‘ Like nothing we’ve ever seen...” are nothing more than this weeks headline news. Nothing hap pened that doesn’t happen every night on network TV, except that’s usually fiction and this was real and the stunt doubles didn’t get up and walk away at the end of the day. Being a Pagan Priest I felt especially frustrated that I couldn't reach out and try to help those around me. I wanted heart circles and people sharing and comforting each other. The building needed a community ritual on the third floor, in that office if possible, to reclaim that space, both in the building and in our minds. People suffer much worse than Mark Barton did without turning to mass murder but I wonder could that tragedy have been averted by something as simple as love? I read in the paper that Mark’s wife married him for money and threatened to leave when he lost it all on the stock market. I heard second hand that coworkers .in the office had loaned him money as he sunk ever deeper in debt. Maybe what Mark needed was not a check, but a hug. In the weeks after the shooting, as I and my coworkers struggled to bury our private pain and “do our jobs,” I won dered: were we not the mirror image of Mark Barton in the weeks before the tragedy, bury ing his own growing desperation as his sanity slowly crumbled behind his mask of “professional behavior?” When our turn comes to see tragedy through a window we mostly handle it quite well; after all we’ve rehearsed our role a hundred times with a TV screen. Several people asked me how I could go back to work in that building. I said, ‘Mass murder is like lightening. It never strikes the same place twice.” and “There’s a far greater chance of my having a wreck on the freeway on the way to work than getting shot in my office.” I only wish I could have said “Nothing that horrible will happen again in my lifetime.” But it will... tonight... on my TV. I won’t be watching...it’s not entertain ment anymore.

on the phone, he is touching you and you are touching him. The mo-ment he walks in the door, even if you are twenty feet away, your subtle Ixxly is touching him and his subtle Ixxly is touching you. What If there are places in your neighbor do you feel? What do you see? Pay atten tion to all this before you touch hands. hood or anywhere on the planet that are When you are with some one, sense all troubled and in need of healing, beam the energy that fills your body out to them the layers of his Ixxly. See how the energy from your heart, your hands or wherever flows m his body. Where does it flow feels right to you. Fill the airwaves with smoothly and where does it get stuck? pleasure. Beam it out everywhere. This is part of what our ancestors knew Pleasure yourself and send this energy out how to do. Subtle touch, the touch of ener Joy is the name for the single energy into the heavens and down into the earth. gy before the touch of hands, is a part of that we have seen as two distinct ones, as Make love to everything in this way, to love making, too. Remember that you can overload some one’s circuits, give too spiritual energy and sexual energy. The clouds and rocks and planets and stars. much energy, or sharing of Joy will give it too quickly. be the major healing tool of the P A lover of men future. Dolphins it " ** must know how to and whales under be intimate. Inti stand this, that free-flowing joy is macy is a state in which energy the balance to love, the cross flows freely from person to per weave in the fabric of life, able to son., in and out of every organ, in hold all of our pain and sorrow in and out of every cell. But many its embrace. people are filled with love and still unhappy, because they do not know We have been disconnected from how to transmit it to others, or do joy for so long that it takes time for not know how to receive it. Is your us to feel it in our bodies. The best heart open? Can you give and technique I know for awakening receive love equally well? Can you joy is this. Each morning when you give and receive love equally well get up, touch yourself all over, - at the same time? Massage yourself from head to toe. Joy is every where, and we have Go back into your personal his been raised in a culture of fear and tory. Explore all your relationships, contraction. As you touch yourself, with family, friends, and lovers. as you relax, speak softly to your Where was there intimacy and skin, your muscles, your organs, where was there need? Where was your bones, your cells. As you there intimacy and where was there massage yourself, say aloud to fear? every part you touch, “ This finger If you are having difficulty is holy, this elbow is sacred. This being intimate sit with a beautiful shinbone is holy. These balls, this flower. Beam out energy from your cock, this asshole are blessed.” Say heart to the flower until it is filled this out loud to each part of you with it. Then feel how the flower is inner and outer. Touch every part beaming energy back to you with of you, inside your ears and mouth no reservations. Breathe in this joy up into your armpits and under ous energy and be filled with it, in your balls. In blessing and naming every part of you. When you are every part of yourself, you will heal able to be intimate with flowers, go the separation between soul and on to trees, to animals and then on Tody. Then joy will flow easily, in to humans. To be able to do this, to and out of every cell. lx; heart-centered, is what we came here Afterwards, you may want to pleasure Beam this energy into your food before for. Feel your heart spread out until it tills yourself, to raise erotic energy. When the you eat. This will both energize it and tune your entire Ixxly. Beam the energy of your energy is strong, breath it up into your it to your laxly so that you can digest it heart out to the world, and let the world abdomen and your chest, into your heart. fully and efficiently. If you are taking send it back to you. Fill your heart with this energy. Feel it herbs or medications, beam it into them pulsing in your arteries and veins. If there too, to tune them to your Ixxly the same This is an excerpt from the revised edition of is any part of your physical body that is way. Andrew’• book “Two Flute* Playing: A Spiritual Journey Book for Gay Men," published by Alamo tense, in pain, in need of healing, breath When you connect with someone, this energy into that part. Use it to heal remember that he is far more than just a Square Press. It previously appeared in the July 1996 issue of the Gay Spirit Visions newsletter, yourself. Breathe this energy into your physical Ixxly. Even when you are talking “Visionary." hands. Feel it pouring out of your palms There is a primal force, the Creator of all that is. Whether we call it God or Goddess, it is Oneness. From the heart of this Oneness, four forces flow that sustain the universe. Physicists call them gravity, electromagnetism, the strong force, and the weak force. I call them love, joy, ecstasy, and bliss. We human beings are a weaving together of these four forces. The work of the past, the work of the spiritual teachers of the past, has been about love. But as we evolve it is time for us to explore who we are as beings of Joy.

and your fingertips. Touch yourself with this energy. Fill yourselt with it, heal and bless yourself with it. Let the path grow familiar and strong from cock to heart to hands.

TASTIN C JOY y

ANDREW

y o u R &OD y RAM

F A E R IE FIR E: R IT U A L S T O LIV E BY

THE LOOSING OF FENRIS In t h e c e n t e r o f y o u r r it u a l s p a c e , in v o k e T H E S P IR IT G U A R D IA N S O F T H E A N IM A L W O R L D IN T O T H E B O W L O F W A T E R U S IN G T H E F O L L O W IN G R U N E (O R O N E O F Y O U R O W N D E V IS IN G ):

B y t h is C h r is t m a s E v e , n e a r l y 8 m il l io n p u p p ie s A N D K IT T E N S W IL L H A V E B E E N D E S T R O Y E D IN TH E U n i t e d S t a t e s in 1 9 9 9 b e c a u s e t h e y w e r e n o t W A N T E D BY A N Y O N E , A N Y W H E R E . A N D YET EVERY D AY, S E V E N D A Y S A W E E K . 3 6 5 DAYS A YEAR. A N O T H E R 7 0 , 0 0 0 P U P P IE S A N D K IT T E N S AR E BO R N in t h e U n i t e d S t a t e s a l o n e , m a n y o f t h e m t o f e e d W e s t e r n c o n s u m e r is m a n d w it h a c a s u a l D IS R E G A R D F O R T H E IR Q U A L IT Y O F LIFE. C L E A R L Y , “ P E A C E O N EA R T H , G O O D W IL L T O W A R D M E N ” E X T E N D S O N L Y T O H U M A N A N IM A L S IN T H E M IN D S O F m o st W esterners. T h a t ’s w h y w e a t S t a m e n C ir c l e cho o se the w in t e r h o l id a y s T R A D IT IO N A L L Y A T IM E T O G IV E PETS AS G IF T S - T O WORK A R IT U A L THAT CREATES A B E TTE R A W A R E N E S S O F T H E A N IM A L W O R L D . M u c h o f W e s t e r n a t t it u d e t o w a r d a n im a l s O T H E R T H A N H U M A N S D E R IV E S F R O M T H E JU D E O C H R IS T IA N E X H O R T A T IO N T O H A V E "D O M IN IO N ” OVER THE O THER S P E C IE S OF THE W O R LD , S A C R IF IC IN G T H E IR NEEDS AND H A B IT A T S IF N E C E S S A R Y S O T H A T M EN C O U L D “ BE F R U IT F U L A N D M U L T IP L Y ." W E H A V E R EAPE D T H E F R U IT O F T H IS M Y O P IA IN T H E F A S T E S T RATE O F E X T IN C T IO N S IN C E T H E A S T E R O ID C R A S H E S T H A T E N D E D T H E REIGN O F T H E D IN O S A U R S , IN T H E IN C E S S A N T R A ZIN G O F R A IN F O R E S T S A N D N A T IV E E C O S Y S T E M S T O S AVE T H E P U B L IC A N IC K E L A T M C D O N A L D 'S , A N D IN T H E IN F L IC T IO N O F S E V E R E PAIN A N D T R A U M A O N LABO RATO RY A N IM A L S TO S A T IS F Y S C IE N T IF IC S P E C U L A T IO N A N D T H E M A R K E T F O R B IL L IO N S O F D O L L A R S O F C O S M E T IC P R O D U C T S . IN T H IS F A E R IE FIRE, W E H O P E T O IN C R E A S E Y O U R A W A R E N E S S O F T H E R O LE T H A T A N IM A L S PLAY IN Y O U R D AY-TO -DAY LIV E S , A N D T O B R O A D E N Y O U R C A P A C IT Y T O U N D E R S T A N D A N D C O M M U N IC A T E W IT H T H E A N IM A L W O R L D . F O R T H O S E O F YOU W H O A R E IN C L IN E D T O S E E K G U ID A N C E O R T E A C H IN G FR O M A N IM A L S P IR IT S O R T O T E M S , T H IS FA ER IE FIRE P R O V ID E S A N E X C E L L E N T S T A R T IN G P O IN T F O R T H A T JO U R N E Y , A N D W E W IS H YO U S A F E JO U R N E Y O N T H A T PATH.

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/ INVOKE THEE AND CALL UPON THEE O SPIRITS OF THE ANIMAL WORLD C h il d r e n o f t h e M o t h e r . B y t o o t h a n d cla w , / in v o k e t h e e B y b l o o d a n d f l e s h , / in v o k e t h e e B y f u r a n d fea th er , / in v o k e t h e e B y u f e a n d l o v e I in v o k e t h e e To A TTEND OUR RITUAL AND Bless our spelle. F e e l t h e p a r t o f y o u t h a t is a n i m a l , r i s i n g u p F R O M W IT H IN Y O U R C O N S C IO U S N E S S , W A V E S O F A N IM A L P O W E R C O U R S IN G T H R O U G H YO U R B L O O D A N D C H A N G IN G Y O U R A W A R E N E S S . C H A N N E L T H A T P O W E R T H R O U G H Y O U R H A N D S A N D IN T O T H E B O W L OF W ATER , C H A R G IN G THE W ATER AND C O N S E C R A T IN G IT W IT H PU R E A N IM A L S P IR IT A S YO U D R A W A P E N T A G R A M O V E R T H E W A T E R ’S S U R F A C E . C u p a h a n d f u l o f t h e w a t e r in y o u r p a l m a n d S P R IN K L E IT O V E R T H E P ILE O F S T O N E S , F E E L IN G T H E P O W E R S E E P IN T O T H E M A N D C A U S IN G T H E M T O G L O W F A IN T L Y IN T H E N IG H T . N O W , T A K E A S IN G L E S T O N E A N D H O L D IT IN Y O U R H A N D , F E E L IN G IT P U L S E W IT H A N IM A L P O W E R . C L O S E Y O U R EYES A N D T H IN K B A C K O V E R T H E P A S T M O O N A N D N A M E O N E K IN D O F A N IM A L Y O U ’VE S E E N IN T H A T P E R IO D . C o n s id e r a l l t h a t y o u k n o w o f t h is b e in g W H A T IT E A T S , H O W IT LIV E S , W H E R E IT M A K E S ITS H O M E , W H A T T H IN G S A R E IM P O R T A N T T O IT. IM A G IN E H O W IT S E E S ITS W O R L D . W H E N YO U F E E L Y O U ’VE M A D E A C O N N E C T IO N W IT H T H IS A N IM A L , R IT U A LL Y D R O P T H E S T O N E IN T O T H E B O W L O F C O N S E C R A T E D W ATER . C O N T IN U E W IT H A N O T H E R S T O N E A N D A N O T H E R A N IM A L U N T IL Y O U ’VE P L A C E D A S T O N E IN T H E W A T E R F O R EVERY A N IM A L Y O U ’VE C O M E A C R O S S IN T H E L A S T M O O N . W H E N YO U F E E L Y O U ’VE R E M E M B E R E D T H E M A L L - T H E N E IG H B O R ’S D O G , T H E H A W K T H A T F L E W P A S T Y O U R W IN D S H IE L D O N T H E H IG H W A Y , T H E L IZ A R D T H A T LIV E S U N D E R Y O U R F R O N T S T E P , T H E M IC E R U S T L IN G IN T H E DRY G R A S S - T A K E A M O M E N T T O F E E L T H E E N E R G IE S O F A L L T H E A N IM A L S W IT H W H IC H Y O U ’VE C O N N E C T E D . L E T T H IS E N E R G Y F L O W T H R O U G H YO U R B O D Y W IT H Y O U R B L O O D , W IT H Y O U R B R E A T H . W IT H Y O U R

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F O R T H IS F A E R IE FIR E R IT U A L. YO U W IL L N E E D T O B R IN G W IT H YO U T O T H E C E N T E R O F YO U R C H O S E N R IT U A L A R E A A LA R G E N U M B E R O F S M A L L S T O N E S A N D A B O W L F IL L E D W IT H W A T E R LA R G E E N O U G H T O H O LD A LL THE STONES. C E N T E R Y O U R M IN D A N D G R O U N D Y O U R E N E R G Y , A N D C U T A F O R M A L C IR C L E F O R T H E R IT U A L IF IT IS Y O U R T R A D IT IO N T O D O S O .

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W E L L UP IN Y O U R T H R O A T A N D G IV E IT V O IC E . T H IS S O U N D IS T H E S O N G O F T H E A N IM A L S P IR IT S ; S IN G T H IS S O N G . A S K IN G T H A T YO U MAY S EE T H E IR H A B IT S A N D H E A R T H E IR C A L L S M O R E C L E A R L Y IN T H E DAYS t o c o m e . C o n s i d e r w h a t a c t i o n s in y o u r l i f e M IG H T B R IN G Y O U C L O S E R T O T H E A N IM A L S P IR ITS. READ OR HAVE SOMEONE R E C IT E THE A C C O M P A N Y IN G P A T H W O R K N O W . IF YO U W IS H . W hen you feel you are ready, a n o in t Y O U R S E L F W IT H T H E C O N S E C R A T E D W A T E R U S IN G T H IS (O R A S IM IL A R ) C H A R G E !

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C lo s e yo u r eyes a n d br eath e d eeply, a n d let Y O U R M IN D R O A M IN T R A N C E . A S YO U O P E N YO U R IN N E R EYES. YO U F IN D Y O U R S E L F S T A N D IN G A T T H E E D G E O F A U \K E ; A S IL V E R C R E S C E N T M O O N H A N G S L O W IN T H E SKY. T H R O W IN G T H E M O U N T A IN S T H A T S U R R O U N D T H E P O O L IN T O S T A R K R E LIE F. T O Y O U R R IG H T, A D A R K T R IC K L E F L O W S IN T O T H E C R Y S T A L L IN E L A K E ! ITS O R IG IN IS H IG H IN T H E M O U N T A IN S A N D YO U F O L L O W ITS D A R K PATH UP T H E STEEP ROCK W ALLS. OVER ROCKSUDES AND B O U L D E R S . H IG H IN T O T H E N IG H T A B O V E T H E LA K E . T he w in d ho w ls dow n fro m the crag s, C H IL L IN G Y O U . T H E R E IS A LIV IN G Q U A L IT Y A B O U T T H E S O U N D O F T H IS W IN D , A S T R A N G E M O A N IN G T H A T R E M IN D S Y O U O F PAIN A N D S U F F E R IN G . YET S O M E H O W D R A W S YO U IR R E S IS T IB L Y T O W A R D ITS S O U R C E . Y O U C A L L O N T H E S ILV E R Y U G H T O F T H E M O O N T O G IV E YO U S T R E N G T H AS YO U S E E K T H E S O U R C E O F T H IS D A R K S T R E A M A N D T H E EERIE H O W L IN G . A fter w h at seem s l ik e hours o f rock S C R A M B L IN G , YO U C O M E T O A S H E E R W A L L O F R O C K S P L IT BY A T H IN F IS S U R E F R O M W H IC H T H E D A R K W A T E R S L U G G IS H L Y IS S U E S . P E E R IN G IN T O T H E C R A C K , T H R O U G H A N O P E N IN G J U S T W ID E E N O U G H F O R YO U T O P A S S T H R O U G H , YOU S E E O N L Y DARKNESS. O U T O F THE DARKNESS COM ES A S H R IE K T H A T C A U S E S T H E S T O N E U N D E R YO U R F E E T T O S H U D D E R . IT IS P A R A L Y Z IN G , Y E T C O M P E L L IN G . Y O U M U S T E N T E R T H E F IS S U R E , YO U K N O W - T H E C O M P U L S IO N IS S T R O N G â&#x20AC;&#x201D; B U T T H E T E R R O R O F T H E C R Y A N D T H E M E N A C E O F T H E D A R K N E S S H O L D YOU F R O Z E N . W IT H G R E A T R E S O L V E . YOU F IN A L L Y ST E P IN T O T H E S T R E A M , S Q U E E Z IN G B E T W E E N T H E LIP S O F S T O N E A N D F E E L IN G Y O U R W A Y IN T O T H E D A R K N E S S . T h e w a t e r is w a r m a r o u n d y o u r f e e t , t h e W A L L S S L IC K , T H E A IR F IL L E D W IT H A F O E T ID O D O R . S t il l y o u p r e s s f o r w a r d . W it h o u t w a r n in g , y o u s t u m b l e o u t o f t h e T U N N E L IN T O A R O C K Y C R A T E R F IL L E D W IT H F R E S H A IR A N D M O O N L IG H T . IN ITS C E N T E R YO U S E E A G IG A N T IC W O L F B O U N D IN S H IM M E R IN G T H R E A D S . IT is t h e w o l f F e n r i s , e m b o d i m e n t o f a i l t h a t is W IL D . IM P R IS O N E D BY T H E N O R S E G O D S IN T H E IR F E A R O F H IS W IL D N E S S . T H E B IN D IN G S C U T THI F L E S H O F T H E E N O R M O U S C R E A T U R E , A N D THE B L O O D F L O W IN G F R O M T H E S E W O U N D S C R E A T E S T H E S T R E A M T H R O U G H W H IC H YO U H A V E J U S T W A D E D . T H E A IR IS S T IL L A N D S IL E N T . S U D D E N L Y THE HUGE BEAST CO N V U LS E S AN D HO W LS. NO L O N G E R S H IE L D E D BY T H IC K W A L L S O F S T O N E , YOU A R E P IE R C E D A N D P E N E T R A T E D BY T H E S O U N D T H A T B R IN G S YO U T O Y O U R K N E E S . IT IS T H E A N G U IS H O f T H E W IL D , O F N A T U R E T H A T H A S B E E N B O U N D A N D B A N IS H E D BY F E A R A N D G R E E D . A F L O O D O F IM A G E S B R E A K S O V E R YO U - T H E L A S T M A S T O D O N , H U N T E D

T O e x t in c t io n : p r im e v a l f o r e s t s f e l l e d f o r H U M A N H A B IT A T IO N A N D C O N S U M P T IO N ; A N IM A L S U S E D A G A IN S T T H E IR W IL L IN M E D IC A L E X P E R IM E N TS : S U B U R B A N L A W N S H O L D IN G T H E W E B O F T H E W IL D A T BAY T H E H O W L IS IN C E S S A N T . W H IR L IN G A R O U N D YO U L IK E A M A E L S T R O M , B U N D IN G YO U R V IS IO N . S O S T R O N G IS T H E P A IN . T H E A N G U IS H . T H E R A G E ; Y O U C A N N O T S T A N D M U C H M O R E O R YOU W IL L L O S E Y O U R M IN D . B u t f r o m s o m e w h e r e in s id e y o u s p r in g s t h e KN O W LED G E THAT YO U CAN CHANGE T H IS . O V E R C O M E T H E F E A R A N D A N G E R A N D B R IN G A N E W V IS IO N T O Y O U R R E L A T IO N S H IP W IT H W IL D E R N E S S . Q u i e t l y a t f i r s t , a n a n s w e r i n g s o n g r i s e s in Y O U R T H R O A T IN C O U N T E R P O IN T T O T H E W O L F ’S T E R R IB L E CRY. IT B L E N D S A N D S H IF T S W IT H TH E W IL D HO W L, G R O W IN G IN S T R E N G T H A S YOU T R A N S F O R M T H E IM A G E S O F D A M A G E A N D D ESPA IR TO IM A G E S OF H EALTH AND W H O LEN ESS . U N D E R S T A N D IN G T H A T T H IS B E G IN S T H E H E A L IN G P R O C E S S O N A P H Y S IC A L L E V E L A S W E L L . Y O U SEE THE FORESTS R E T U R N IN G ; V IT A L , H E A LTH Y E C O S Y S T E M S R E E S T A B L IS H IN G T H E M S E LV E S . YOU S E E W IL D B E IN G S A L L O W E D T O LIV E W ITH FR E E D O M A N D R E S P E C T . A S Y O U R S O N G R ISES, YOU C A L L O N T H E P O W E R O F T H E M O O N A N D L E T IT PO U R O V E R T H E W O L F . T H E B O N D S H O L D IN G IT D IS S O L V E O N E BY O N E IN T H E M O O N L IG H T ; YO U W A T C H A S T H E W O U N D S C LO S E . THE F L O W O F B LO O D STO PS. YO U A R E A W A R E S U D D E N L Y T H A T YO U R S O N G A N D T H E H O W L HAVE BECO M E O N E SONG. B O T H YO UR

IN T H E S T IL L N IG H T , W IT H S U N -Y E L L O W EYES A N D A G R E A T . L O L L IN G T O N G U E . F E N R IS C O N S ID E R S YO U B R IE F L Y . A N D F O R A M O M E N T YO U F EAR HE W IL L TAKE REVENGE ON YO U . HE BUNCHES HIS P O W E R F U L M U S C L E S A N D L E A P S , L A N D IN G HIG H A B O V E YO U O N T H E RIM O F T H E R O C K B O W L . S IL H O U E T T E D A G A IN S T T H E S T A R S , HE R A IS E S HIS H E A D T O T H E SKY A N D H O W L S H IS F R E E D O M . Y O U F E E L H IS E X H IL A R A T IO N A S HE B O U N D S O F F IN T O T H E N IG H T . L E F T A L O N E IN T H E S ILV E R Y M O O N L IG H T , YO U F E E L Y O U R E Y E L ID S G R O W HEAVY. Y O U R W O R K F O R T H E N IG H T IS C O M P L E T E , A N D Y O U R E X E R T IO N S H A V E T IR E D Y O U . S IT D O W N A N D R E S T IN T H E M O O N L IT B O W L . W H E N YO U O P E N Y O U R EYES A G A IN YO U W IL L F IN D Y O U R S E L F B A C K IN O R D IN A R Y R EALITY.

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Beauty bv I love beauty. No, I worship beau ty, especially as contained in the form of young men. I have Prince W illiam ’s poster and calendar on my wall and I routinely jack off to both of them. I surrender myself to his beau ty. I offer myself. Indeed, I sacrifice myself. For that is what worship is all about, recognizing the divine, identifying it, then becoming it. No, I’ll never be seventeen again. And even when I was, I was no Prince Charming. But every time I see youthful beauty, he becomes part of me. I treasure his image. I think of him. I mentally undress him. I lick him over his entire body. I enter him and he enters me. Every young beauty is an aspect, a manifestation, of the god, the divinity that lives in each of us. ‘ Thank you for this glimpse of perfection,” I think to this god who, for me, even has a name.

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(or erupting through or from) a lotus, the receptacle, the orifice. For straights, this is the vagina. For gays, it is the anus. But it was only recently that I learned about Shiva’s son, Skanda, whose name means jet of sperm. Caught your ear, haven’t I?

Skanda was not born of woman. Shiva’s sperm (the divine soma or elixir of the Hindu gods, typically mistranslated as butter, of all things) fell into the mouth of Agni, god of fire, in the first divine blowjob. From there, the sperm ended up in the waters of the Ganges River, from which Skanda was born, already sweet sixteen. He was so beautiful that even his father wanted to be turned into a stone phallus erected (!) beside the boy just to be forever near him. Skanda is the only one of the Hindu celestial pantheon of gods who never married a woman. He was For years I have worshipped Shiva, considered married to the gods’ army the dancing Hindu god who contains (what a wedding night!) and is its leader, patron and guardian. life and death. His very phallus is divine. Stone representations of it He was described as having six are in every Shivite temple, sitting on

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heads (don’t even think it), all curly haired and with beautiful dark skin. Sounds good to me. And surely wor thy of worship. Since I’m a Pantheist and believe everything has a spirit, Skanda is far from the only spirit I worship but he is certainly one of the main ones. So any time I see a beautiful youth, I think, “Skanda, you’re working over tim e.” Thomas Mann recognized the divine origin of young male beauty, and not just in “Death in Venice." Late in life, he said nothing surpasses a man’s love for a beautiful youth and he cer tainly knew. So the next time you see a beautiful youth, thank Skanda for appearing in this particular manifestation. And treasure the image as it lingers in your mind, for through it divine beau ty lives on in you. As for me, my divine lover is always with me, always in me. He never leaves, like an eternal butt plug. No wonder I smile a lot.

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October 2, 1909

Roads, a RerDernbreoce b£ v o w Yotiog

My first encounter with David Stewart, who I first knew as Light Eagle, was on a sunny Spring morning during the Beltane Gathering at Short Mountain. A faerie had filled a bathtub near the barn with the unfired shards of broken pottery and then watered it down into a cool gray mud. I couldn't wait for heart circle to conclude so I could slip into the ooze and cover myself with it. Wiping my eyes clear of the dripping mud, I saw some one climbing into the tub as I stepped out and soon was aware of this same person standing beside me, slathering the mud around his body. We introduced ourselves, started vis iting amiably in this almost inbetween place, neither flesh nor statue, but both in a way. Before me stood a man that appeared to be a clay statue of perfect Greek proportion come to life and it was almost difficult to concentrate on speaking because his beauty was so strong. But Light Eagle’s easy manner made conversation easy and we laughed at the thought of how many cracks and crevices we would probably be cleaning mud from in a few hours. As we chatted, Light Eagle kept working the mud into his long beard and hair. He casually bifurcated his beard and adeptly forming his hair into horns, shape-shifted before me from a merely beauti ful rhan into'an icon of Pan him self. The Green Man in gray clay, smiling his toothy and warm smile. His gentle voice morphing into a purr as we hugged and parted that morning to go our separate ways.I could not have imagined that day that this lovely and gentle man would become such a profound figure and friend in my life. Cliche though it may be, I grew to know that his beauty was something that radiated from inside. Would we all have loved him so if he hadn’t been so physically beautiful? I find it hard to separate his physicality from his spirit. It was such a reflection of his personal myth. The Green Man. Pan. And his generosity of spirit also came through in his body... warm hugs, a brilliant smile, his soft-spoken truth. I’d like to think we eventually would have

recognized his beautiful soul if it had not been contained in such a beautiful cor pus. But as is clear in any photo of the man, his beauty was singular. As fate would have it, he was a close friend of a close friend of mine and before I knew it, we were sharing in the deeper explorations of Harry Hay’s Circle of Loving Companions. When I received my HIV diagnosis, Light Eagle was one of the faeries who caught me in my free fall, his purring in my ear one of my lasting memories of that day.

Just before that momentous occasion, I had the privilege of traveling with Light Eagle and Clyde for almost six weeks. The three of us, big men all. with all our gear, coffee pots, tents, folding chairs, regalia and beads — enough for six weeks, five states, three climatic zones, and two major ceremonies — fit ted in David’s partner Dennis’ little green GEO Metro like some faerie Chinese puz zle. We traveled from the Shoshone reservation at Ft. Hall Idaho up to Helena, Montana and on to Browning Montana up by the Canadian border and next to Glacier National Peace Park. There the three of us and other friends from New York and Maine spent a few days with George and Molly Kicking Woman, bundle keepers for the Blackfeet nation before we tra versed Glacier Park and headed south to the Bitterroot Valley and back to Clyde’s home in Ft. Hall. Light Eagle and I were guests in Clyde’s home for a week. Evenings were spent beading and sewing and gossiping and laughing. We learned how to repair some pieces of bead ing and talked about the upcoming Naraya, the Two Spirit Naraya as Clyde called it, at the sanctuary in Oregon. People would be coming from all over the country for this; the farthest from New Orleans and New York. A lot of people had expressed doubt about whether Light Eagle, whom they perceived as being “airyfairy,” could pull off the logistical needs of a powerful three day cere monial dance for as many as 70 people, much less hold the spiritual center, along with Clyde, that was necessary for the Naraya to come to life. After all, all the big bad New Yorkers had been putting this cere mony together for years now and it took months and months of planning and dozens of highly professional people — in the same city — sitting through meeting after meeting. Light Later, His Lightness, as he Eagle, a gardener, was professing to be became known affectionately among able to pull this together in less than six some of us, became c*ie of the many months with various faeries scattered faerie brothers who came to know the across the contnent. Naraya dance Clyde Hall (another of the There was never any doubt in my mind. faeries in that Circle of Loving Compan ions). His power as an ecstatic was soon Over that last year, as we spent time to evident and soon he was issuing a call to gether talking about this dream of a faerie Naraya, it was clear to me that no other faeries everywhere to join in a Naraya dance in Wolf Creek in June of this year. person could do this. And so he did.

I have personally danced all but two Narayas since 1991, and this one will always stand out for me not only for rts gentleness and its sweetness, but for the power that was brought forth by the faeries in that circle. And there, in the center of that circle, in the beautiful Celtic robes that Clyde had had made especial ly for him, was Light Eagle in one of his finest moments. He gave his flesh for that dance. Actually, another of his finer flesh moments comes to mind, last year, at the New York Naraya, six months before Light Eagle would bring the Wolf Creek dance to life. It was the last day, Sunday. Over 100 people had danced for two nights and sung the sacred songs. Many visions had been shared in a talk ing circle, the likes of which you only see at Gatherings. In that closing circle, Light Eagle announced that he wanted to dance a vision that he had seen in the night as he sat with the Tree. Rising from his place in the huge circle, wrapped in the Celtic robes, he stood tall and as he pulled himself into his elegant height, he dropped the robe and stood naked before the circle. In faerie circles this is, of course, nothing. In Native traditions this is a shocking lack of modesty in mixed

company. Clyde could have stopped him at any time, but instead, as Light Eagle moved into his vision dance — dignified, beautiful and soaring, his face, no longer bright and round with his personal beauty but now angular and austere, eyes closed and focused on an inner dreamscape — he watched with pride and not a little amusement. Much later, when people began to speak of the ‘scandal’ Clyde, identifying himself as a faerie himself, reminded them all that Light Eagle was a faerie and this was what faeries do. He ada-mantly reminded the circle that if we must each respect all traditions under the tree, then this sky-clad dance was to be respected in the same way we honor Tainos, Lakotas, Yorubans and the other tribes and clans of the Naraya. There are many faeries who dance the Naraya in New York as well as in Maine and have been a real and respected presence in those places. But it was Light Eagle who brought the lesson home. When I heard with horror the news that he had been struck by a car speeding through a red light in San Fran cisco, my wretched sadness was soft ened by knowing that Light Eagle was probably one of the most healed and pre

pared individuals I knew in my life. If any of us can be ready for that moment — sudden or expected — when we cross that intersection from this world into the next, it was my friend and brother, Light Eagle. That he died in that crossroads, which the Shoshone and others consider to be a holy place, like they consider Two Spirits and faeries to be holy in-betweens seems tragic, but perfect and somewhat poetic. Clyde said, in his vision of Light Eagle’s death, that he saw his body fly ing, and that his spirit just kept flying as his body came back to Earth. I am told that the Hopi teach that our spirit, when it passes over, spends the first ninety-six hours visiting every place and every one we have ever been or known. Today I cleaned my house to prepare for his spirit’s visit, lighting can dles and burning aromatic grass and myrrh to greet him sweetly. Even if I am far down on his list of places to go in those four short days, I am putting my world in order so I am ready, for myself, to cross any road. Donations can be made in LightEagle’s honor to

Nomenus Wolfcreek Sanctuary Building Fund, POB 312, Wolf Creek, OR 97497

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^7 Last Daze of ^=s*' Summer at Destiny by Helga

The Convocation of Communities, my first Faerie Gathering ever, was a magical time in my life. It was a moment of excitement, learning, manifesting new energies, meeting new fae folk from the farthest corners of the galaxy, and a time when I felt at peace with myself in a way that seemed fresh and new. My companions on the jour ney. Bo (our trusty driver), Saebra (tentmaster and woods man extraordinaire), and I arrived on the land late on Thursday evening.The first Faeries we met as we stumbled through the tiki-torchlit darkness were Eden Gloria from Zuni Mountain Sanctuary, and Pinky who lives on Short Mountain. They welcomed us very graciously and pointed us up the slope of the moun tain as we prepared to set up camp with every ounce of sequined fabulous ness at our command. We got our tents pitched successfully and had fallen into a deep sleep when we were awakened by the sound of torrents of rain pattering with carefree abandon above us. Perhaps I should have been upset, but this has been such a dry summer in New England that I simply took the rain as a gift. Saebra had had the seams of his tent sealed (something I highly recommend for any of you planning to camp at any of the Sanctuaries next year), and the only water that got inside was from opening and closing the door of the tent.

P revious Page: Photo by S c o tty U o g /lm tm by ■Matt Si G abriel. Face photos by S co ttyD o g , taken at the C o nvoca tion.

It proved to be a cozy, restful space to which we could retreat after our long days and nights studying, befriending, dishing, hauling water, scrubbing pots, and sharing warm moments with our new friends at Destiny. The next day was spent getting into what I called the Destiny groove. W ith daylight as an aid I learned the layout of the central areas: kitchen tent, performance space, the yurt, and the park

ing lot where those special D r W ho Cosmic Porto-potties dwelt— luckily the trail that led out there was picturesque! Saebra bravely went to the Futurevisions workshop while I got myself grounded helping Scottie Dog and Marlon (two sweet men from Portland, O re.) and all their friends get lunch ready. (Incidentally, the meals at this gathering were simply fabulous! All glories to Daisy and William for their yeoman w ork coordinating kitchen duties.) In the afternoon Saebra took his turn in the kitchen while Moon gave me a brief tour of the land. Moon is a beau tiful, gentle man I met at my very first Heart Circle back in September‘97. We followed a trail that had been blazed sometime in ‘96 when the Land first came into the Faeries’ hands. A dra matic feature of this trail was a partly fallen maple tree leaning on one enormous branch that formed a low arch over the ground. Bowing under the immense weight of the trunk, I felt very palpably the sense of humility that seemed only right and fitting in these days we spent working and playing as guests on the land, the trail further up the slope towards higher ground, Moon pointed out the tiny jewel-like salaman ders that scampered playfully in and out of the carpet of magic ferns and bits of birch bark that carpeted the earth.They were gorgeous little dears. Elemental mascots of Mother Destiny. Moon showed me both fire circles, the drum shelter that had been built (which we used the next day), the nail polish altar, the beautiful pentacle that had been crafted out of rough-hewn wood below the higher of the two fire circles, and one of the most recent structures added to the land— a labyrinth which had just been laid out over the Lammas Gathering week in August. A sort of hushed power seemed to throb slowly over the labyrinth ... in and out, in and o u t ... and I could sense that it was a place of tremendous natural power ... of earth energy coiled, not sleeping, but lying in trance and awaiting for that flicker of fae energy to bring it once more to life. I sensed nodal points of this immemorial chthonic Presence at many places around Destiny ... but most strongly here, in this sacred maze.

As evening drew on, the rain ceased. After sup per everybody gathered together in the yurt to await the telephone hookup with Faerie Father Harry Hay. The yurt was an extraordinary struc ture. W hen I heard about it I imagined some thing along the lines of the yurts of Mongolia (one of which a friend of mine once helped assemble and take apart, while he was travelling through Inner Mongolia). I certainly wasn’t pre pared for this delicate, elegant structure, whose interior resembled the underside of a Chinese parasol, with candles set before mirrors high above in the center to cast a dancing, glim mering light over the space. W orks of art by many Faeries had been hung on the walls. Faeries who were hung in a rather different sense of the word cavorted and mellowed out around the room. Eventually Scottie Dog, who was in charge of the technolo gy that made the phone call possible, explained how we would hear H arry’s voice and how he would hear us. Somehow (thank you Goddess!) it worked. Harry, even long distance, proved to be an amazing presence. His voice reverberated around the yurt and touched us all. We sang “ Dear Ones, Queer Ones” to him, and various Faeries went up and spoke into the phone receiver. Thanks to the magick of speaker-phone H arry’s words were shared with all of us. He expounded his vision of the Heart Circle as the crucible of Faerie cul ture, enjoining us all to listen attentively to the voice of the Circle as it manifests in our own local communities. He described the Radical Faerie scene as a movement with the potential to transform the heart of an expanding world culture, by overcoming the boundaries, divisive ness, and bigotry of the dominant mainstream commercial culture. Although I felt skeptical of our power as a highly diverse and (so it feels to me) decentralized community to do this, I found my thoughts returning to H arry’s vision days after the Gathering had ended. So this is some thing very powerful I have taken away with me— even if it’s just a seedling. (As the old saying goes “ Mighty oaks from little acorns grow” ) One thing that impressed me was how well Harry knew some of the men. He was very affectionate and would say things like “ Now here’s what you have to do, honey,” just as if he were directing the preparation of a meal in the kitchen. His words combined practical strategies with broad spiritual visions in a way that seemed very stim ulating. Since the most recent news I had had of Harry emphasized how seriously ill he was, it was a surprise and a blessing to hear him so full of vital energy, and so ready to share it with the Convocation.

After the phone call we had a very dynamic drumming circle in the yurt. Faerie boys of all ages and builds joyously stripped off their clothes, leaping, pirouetting, prancing and enchanting the very air that embraced them. For some reason I was entranced by the sight of Rosie Delicious (as a friend of mine once com mented. "Rosie IS delicious!’’), clothed sublimely in a beauty that seemed beyond space and time, as he danced and dreamwalked with different brother-sprites in turn, his merry eyes, ecstatic smile and flaming cock lighting up the tent more brilliantly than any bonfire could have done. Hardly any wonder that the dancing and drumming was still going full throttle when we went to bed at 1:30 am! It was glorious to awaken to bright blue skies, the fresh scent of rainrenewed glades, and pancakes and coffee in the kitchen. Having stayed up so late the previous night we got a late start on the day, and missed the early morning Altar Creation workshop.The subject of this was a temporary altar which was created around the huge maple tree under which I had bowed the previous afternoon— it had finally fallen completely to the ground that evening.The Faeries collected rocks and placed them around the dead tree, honoring their fallen friend, and routing the trail safely around it. W e also missed much of the Food Mandala which was offered late in ^ the morning. After a postprandial visit to the parking lot, I was walk ing back down the trail and heard Faeries chanting:“ Isis ...Astarte ...Diana ... Hekate ... Demeter ... Kali ... Inanna” to a deep beat of drums and bells that seemed to come from the earth Herself. I was able to spend some time talking to Peyote, a Faerie artist who lives at the Campo de Artista in Nayarit, Mexico (near Puerto Vallarta). I had noticed him the day before at breakfast, in his cute outfit of polkadot pajama pants accessorized with engi neers boots (classic combo). I told Peyote how much I had admired a drawing he did for a recent RFD of a nude man sucking very amorously on one finger. He told me the story of how that drawing was done, at a Faerie Gathering, and how magick seemed to tingle in the very air as he worked on the drawing, attracting many people to 23

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Faerie Clump D estin y

Convocation of Communities

come and watch as the work (and play) was done. It was a beautiful story, which I’ll always remember whenever I enjoy Peyote’s art in the future. In the afternoon we attended a Drumming Workshop led by Faeries from Cambridge we knew. It was great to get together with our drums— they bring such focus to our ener gies. W hen that was over it was time for Saebra and I to visit the creek. Pinky showed us the way. The water was high and the energy of late afternoon gave a tranquil setting for meditation and just hanging out. The sight of Saebra crouching on a rock, sitting in silence, his silvergrey eyes seeming to hold in them all the shimmering rain that had fallen from the sky the day before, just contemplat ing the air, the water, and the energy of the day, etched itself on my mind as a summing-up of one thing that Gatherings should accomplish— allowing one self time and space to com mune with Nature and the deeper energies of the Self. It really was a moment when time seemed to stand still. In the evening I briefly glimpsed from afar Thistle per forming onstage— an eager-eyed waif with angel’s wings. I’m not sure which Heaven he was visit ing from but he seemed to have drawn a few sylphs, satyrs and sweet hearts to f~ > the Vp

or* "

Circle with him.

Saebra and I headed back to our tent to change for the evening and get ready for the big fire circle up in the hills. Under Glisten’s divine direction, luminaries were car ried up to the higher fire circle, where an honor ing of the Dear Departed souls of Faeries who

have transmuted to a Higher Plane was called. As we approached the Fire Circle the whirling shapes of Fae beauties swirling around the fire came into view, and the words of the chant floated over the high branches of the trees that seemed to sway and join the dance: W e are the flow and we are the ebb/We are the weavers, we are the web. The drums sounded a powerful, intent pulsebeat that was quick and queer and quite divine. Gabriel Q and Rosie Delicious led a delirious, laughing rout around and around the circle. Rosie stood with a small delicate twig bedight with dried leaves making offering to the spirit of the Flame. A t some point everyone stopped and thanks were given to the Guardians of the Quarters and the spirits of the dead who had graced us with their love and inspiration. One Faerie made an Invocation to the Inner Drag Queen, our universal goddess-whore-child. He gave thanks for the dimestore tiara, the little black dress, Joan Crawford’s fuck-me pumps, three-quarter gloves, plunging necklines, sequined peignoirs, and all the other tricks and treats without which our lives would seem so inexpressibly impoverished. After that Blessing, Jim Jackson led us all in one great howling OM that sent our bristling, brightflaming energy reaching out into every nook and cranny of the Kosmos. Gabriel Q , with his shaman’s eyes and sylph-like smile, held aloft a lamp and floated off away from the fire, and a small procession followed him through the shadows of the forest up into the Labyrinth. Fae shadows snaked in and out of sight, bearing on high the small but brightly glim mering luminaries. A t the Labyrinth’s center the altar waited, potent and dark, a small still sanc tum within the vast darkness of the Sanctuary, illuminated by cries of Faerie revelry. A light, airy spirit seemed to hover over the Land when I awoke the next morning. Everyone was busy fixing breakfast and preparing to leave the Land. On my way back from my usual morning visit to the parking lot I met Claude, a Faerie from Hull, Canada, whose graceful bearing and sylvan charms I had admired all weekend. We talked about the history of the Faerie movement in Canada and he told me of his own research which traces the earliest cir cles back to the early Seventies— possibly even the late Sixties. Since I have become very inter ested in the history of local Faerie groups all over North America, I was quite intrigued by what Claude had to tell me, and if we had had more time, I’m sure I could have heard some powerful and inspiring stories from him. But the time for the Closing Circle was drawing near. It

was a charged, powerful experience. Both Gathering neophytes like myself and seasoned Faeries spoke. Some recited poems; Donald launched into a playful, dramatic monologue about the life and death of the ancient maple tree that fell in the storm; corn chips and fresh fruit were shared, and the waters of the world that had been gathered at the Convocation were honored. The Circle ended in a spiral dance that twisted around, twinned itself into an inner cir cle and an outer circle, and finally fell into a puppy-pile of playful, giggling Faeries. There were several farewells exchanged, and some sweet quiet moments spent standing hold

ing one another and saying goodbye to new friends and old. The farewell I could hardly bear to make was to the Land itself. I still carry within my heart the rare glow of the late Summer sunlight over the hills, the green glimmering ferns that covered the dun moist soil, the twitter of the birds in the trees, the smell of wet bark and burning wood, and the music of sky and wood and earth playing the eternal song of Nature in Her glory. And I surely feel that song luring me back for Gatherings still to come ... and the fabulousness that is yet to unfold in the sacred Land of Faerie Camp Destiny.

Cypress If I had bothered to journal during the four days and five nights I spent in a forest called Destiny I would have written down a bunch of surprises and disappointments. The first time I ever went to a faerie sanctuary, my guide assured me that no matter what bizarre or tentative expectations I might harbour for my par ticular future, they would be thwarted by the odd karmic magick supplied by the coming together of so many of the J strange. O ver the years I have been in many sanctuaries and temporary autonomous zones created by the coming together of the fae, and I fully endorse her original warning. Here I was in the woods, slung up on a sarong under swaying boughs screwing a boy who thought Giuliani has done good things for Sin City, sitting outside more than one circle or two feeling lost and unconnected from people who are my greatest hope. The Giuliani supporter and I chatted out our visions for projects on the land and we’d both had the same idea: treehouses. And I’d had all these ideas about getting away to some real crunchy, political queers. The yurt is up. Its translucent walls of customcut tarpage glowed with candlelight every night. There was this huge chalkboard and this flurry of activity stunned by the presence of so many important faeries from so far afield that they all must be constantly organized. I managed to stay out of the kitchen, watching some new faerie

keep the drama kicking higher than the propane. More than once I wished I had a chainsaw, knowing the next time I'd have time to get away from New York the snow would be too deep to cut wood, too deep to camp in. I bemoaned my corporate slavery. The gathering’s surprises shone like Cruella’s diamonds. Jai kneaded the law O firm out of my shoulders by the sweat lodge. Kasha announced a faerie affinity action at the School of the Amerikas in Georgia in November. Kasha’s pigtails. Spotted a copy of O f W ater and the Spirit by Malidoma Patrice Some in somebody’s bag by the fire. Trilliums. Bumping into Mike Duffy at the Brattleboro food co-op on the way home and getting to chat about wildcrafting and trilliums. Dogs. Scottydog channeled Harry Hay into the circle one night via teleconference. Harry told us we must all strive for subject-subject consciousness and stop objectifying one another and see one another as bearers of the same wound. He warned us of police infiltra tion. I sat in the circle alter nately charmed by H arry’s genius and appalled by the cultic, guru-worship atmos phere in the room and chilled by the folks who talked to Harry as if he was already otherworldly, his words

Cricket in the stream at Destiny. Photograph by Richard Mitchell.

already twisted into scripture and beyond com prehension. Gabriel asked him a particularly quaint question about ileadershipi. the central conflict of the hour admittedly, which Harry cleverly turned on its head. iThe circle is your leader, listen to the circle.?

protection and self-abuse, our guilty greedy crav ings. And then I found tenderness among men. Sitting around the fire that last night somebody produced floss, and we flossed together, them that wanted to. It was as if by flossing we were admitting our shared vulnerability to the mun dane, despite the terror of the everyday, the uncertainty of the cold night around us.

Coming away I thought of all our agendas pitched against one another like waiting for a boar to spear himself on your pike with the full force of his own attack. All of us wrapped in our webs of objectification, our cocoons of self

The Tree falling off it's trunk in the middle of the night. The altar at the tree.

Reflections of a Destiny Newbie (o r How I B ecam e a R a d ica l F a e rie )

by Pippin

I am a Radical Faerie. Hmm.... How does that feel, rolling off my tongue? I am a Radical Faerie? W hat does that mean? How did it come about that I became a person that used those words? Is it part of my destiny to forever more have this phrase as part of my identi ty? I am an activist. I know that. That’s easy. I am a rabble rouser. That’s easy too. I am a Vermonter, a theater freak, a Shakespearean, a pagan, an environmentalist, a person who stores an amazing amount of only semi-accurate trivia about old movies and obscure actors. I am an anti-racist ally, a feminist and a community organizer. I think I know what all of those things mean. But what do the words “ I am a Radical Faerie” mean? W hat do they mean to my sense of personhood, my communi ty identity, to my own sense of self and self esteem? I came to Faerie Camp Destiny for the first time this past April but it was a long road to led to my arrival in Grafton. I had known about the Radical Faeries for almost 12 years, first reading about them in Margot A dler’s Drawing Down the Moon, which I read as part of my (mostly) straight pagan group in college, the Sacred Earth Alliance. I read about the faeries then, but I was still (mostly) in the closet and really had no idea how I would go about connecting with such a fiercely provocative sub-culture in my already sub-cultural life. W hile I directed my senior the sis, a production of Shakespeare’s fairy classic, A

Midsummer Night’s Dream, I thought long and hard about the modern-day faeries and worked to infuse my production with homoerotic energy but I still didn’t know how I could possibly con nect my own life with that described in the brief essay in Adler’s book. After college I threw myself into envi ronmental activism with wild aban don and had little time for anything else for years to come. Sexually, I was coming out of the closet just about as slowly as I could. I’m bisexual you see, and I was feeling pretty invisible in both the gay community and the straight patriarchy. It made me really nervous telling my gay friends that I also wanted to date women. And the environ mental community, which most of my straight friends are part of, is pretty notorious for its macho heterosexism. Usually, I just didn’t date anyone at all and let myself coast through life as that cuddly yet celibate guy who poured all his energy into organizing demonstrations and protests. Fortunately, 1995 was a watershed year — I got pulled out of the clos et gently yet forcefully by a dear friend who convinced me that the only way to end bisexual invisibility was to be out loudly. Hooray! W hat a revelation! W hy didn’t I think of that ten years ago? I also began realizing that I

Faerie Camp 1)cstiny Convocation of Communities

couldn’t create happiness and spiritual well-being with ever-increasing amounts of activism. There’s a lot of activism to be done but burning myself out by the age of thirty wasn’t going to build sustainability in the movement or make me a ful filled person. I had to work on becoming a healthier person. Moving back to paganism in an effort to become a more grounded human being, I finally found RFD. Well, I read RFD cover to cover for four years but still couldn’t bring myself to use the contacts section and get to know y’all. Hmm... Low self esteem you might ask? Yup. I think that’s the right answer. You lot seemed so grounded, so together, so focused on building community in the face of great adversity. How could lil’ o f me participate in something that looked like so much fun? Seemed to involve such happy, healthy, people? Just looked so damn cool? Can you say that this little pre-faerie over-romanticized y’all? My Goddess. Well, by 1998,1 was living in San Francisco, my third major city in as many years. I was feeling hemmed in by the big gray buildings of the Tenderloin. I was intimidated by the gymboy culture of the Castro. I was depressed by my inability to find meaningful work (activists who don’t speak Spanish don’t find much paid work in California). And I needed a change — I needed trees. In January of 1999,1 moved back to my home state, Vermont.

The mountains, the trees, the snowy winter and the changing seasons make me feel more grounded then anywhere else I’ve ever been. I have a good job that I like. I have set clear boundaries around my w ork life. I live in a village of 800 people, in an old farmhouse with a river running by at the bottom of the meadow. I write for the local anarchist newspaper. There are no crack dealers in my back alley. There is no back alley. I feel good about my life and the choices that I am making. Finally, I went to Destiny to meet the faeries. Guess what? I discovered that Faeries are People too! How exciting! How novel! Then I went to the W alt Whitman Gathering, the Lammas Gathering, the Convocation of Communities and the Sap-Suckers Ball. You know what, y’ail aren’t nearly as intimidating in person as you appeared in the pages of RFD. In fact, you are down right welcoming, adorable, smart, loving, joyful, sexy and (mostly) non-judgemental. O f course, we are also fallible, occasionally petty, often scared, argu mentative, lacking in confidence and (generally speaking) N O T PERFECT! That is why I can, twelve years after first hearing about the Radical Faeries, say the words “ I am a Radical Faerie” and know that that means, in the words of Yolanda, another Destiny Faerie, simply this: "we are angels and w e’re struggling to be human.” Thanks Destiny, by welcoming this new faerie into your community you are helping me to become fully human. From this point on, I move forward with you.

Roger! Prior to attending my first “ Faerie Gathering” I had little idea of what “ Radical Faerie’s” were about. I had seen pictures of men wearing Faerie garb and knew that some took on Faerie names but didn’t know much more. W hen Michel, my friend from Holland told me one late July evening that he was going to be attending a gathering over the weekend I decided to go with him. Part of the reason was that something seemed to be developing between us and I wanted to explore what it might be but I also sensed that I needed a place to let my spirit run free and wondered if the world of Faerie’s would provide that space.

at Camp Destiny in Vermont that we were attending. I was only able to stay for about 36 hours but during that time I met most of the participants, sat in on a couple of circles, prepared and participated in a Sweat Lodge and helped in the making of Destiny’s Labyrinth.The short time there seemed kind of magical. I thought it a bit odd though that dur ing the circles I didn’t detect any real overt sense of leadership. Instead everyone seemed to have a say and together their voices provid ed direction.

Wanting to know more I later searched for information on the Radical Faerie’s. I came across a concept that, “ Each Faerie is divine and speaks for himself “ which seemed to Fit the assessment I made regarding the dynamics of the circles. W hat I found to be more interesting though was the idea of common visions to share and celebrate such as:“ a belief in the sacredness of nature and the earth; honoring the interconnectedness of spirit, sex, politic and culture; and understanding that each of us has our own path (or paths) which lead to the garden-of-who-we-are and, by uniting with each other in cir cles, gatherings and sanctuaries we can increase the joy of weeding and tending our garden together; a commit ment to the process of group consensus; and a belief that we are each other.” Pretty weighty stuff I thought, but I liked it. My next gathering at Destiny was in September it was the “ Convocation of Communities” . I was there again for about 36 hours but without Michel who was on his way back to Holland via Chicago and San Francisco with his partner Koos.There was something so special about the energy that permeated that gathering. It was so sexual and it was so strong.The Friday evening drumming session in the yurt seemed like a dream. A dozen naked men, or was it more,

moving their bodies in their own individual interpretations of the beats the drummers mes merized us with. My spirit was off and running, it was dancing, it was soaring. It felt so natural to reach out to another and be touched in return, to be intimate, to be poly-amorous.. I didn't want to leave but the time came to do so again. I looked forward to the next gathering already. As I sat in the Heart Circle watching the tal isman go around during the last gathering to be held at Camp Destiny for 1999 I listened to the holders of the talisman speak, one after another. It seemed that there was some weeding of gar dens going on. Not always a pleasant task and some of the comments reflected that. W hat really struck me though was the beauty I was beginning to see as I looked at the speakers. Even those who weren’t normally physically attractive to me were taking on a sense of beauty because they were allowing themselves to be vulnerable.They were opening themselves for all present to see, exposing and speaking from the heart. It felt sacred and it felt safe. It seemed like a wonder ful place to let my spirit be free. As we enter into the long winter I will look forward to next year to attending future gatherings at Camp Destiny and reacquainting with kindred souls.

Som etim es the Faeries are in the M o m ent, Som etim es Th e y ’re Reading Ahead* Som etim es Th e y R e m e m b e r How It S ta rte d by G a b r ie l Destinarians, like the larger faerie diaspora, yearn to gather in collective ecstasy, and that yearning brings people back again and again. W hen the party is over we all go home... Or, like a pulse quickening to a glow the community is emerging between the gatherings, weathering harsh storms and tempering the vision of resident queer community in Vermont.The endless cycle

of vision, struggle, release and grounding, the “ process” chewing us up and spitting us out like the Earth herself, has been painful and exhilarat ing for me. Sometimes when I’m exhausted by it all my body/heart succumbs and I drift into a sprit world, the realms of all possibility, and there I am renewed.

Faerie Camp D estiny

T asty T id b its fro m th e Convocation Jo u rn al

Convocation of Communities

Tho ughts on Ritual by Tom We can see the tendency to ritual in commer cial Gay practice, for example, raves. W e pre pare by dressing in our newest disco gear, tak ing the tablet, dancing for hours into a trance, htjggmg. Another example are S & M Dungeon rituals of consentual pain infliction.The Bloomsbury Group in England (Virginia W oolfe, E. M. Forster, Duncan Grant, Lytton Strachey, etc.) at the beginning of this century looked at the re-evaluation of culture by various means i.e. questioning conventional family/sexual con structions, art spaces and furniture making, meals (see Beau en daube - “ To the Lighthouse") and fancy dress parties, memoir club readings and gatherings. We can’t avoid that ritual is widely misused in the Twentieth Century: H itler’s Germany, Mussolini’s Italy, Franco’s Spain-all highly ritualized societies.The armies, navies and air forces, game shows, the Jerry Springier Show, baseball, the Catholic church. We have to be aware of this hinterland of good and bad things in ritual. Spontaneity is good in ritual but can also represent a wasted opportunity, for instance, funeral rites are gen erally enhanced by research into the dead per son’s life and finding out about music, poetry, etc., they would have liked.

Thoughts on Food by A nonym ous If you make cookies, be sure to make them tasty. The Faerie Light Beings eat only tasty food. One day somebody made some cookies that tasted like porridge.The Fairie Light Beings tried to be polite. But they made their own cookies after that.

O pposing View s Just for the record, Buffy and Jai loved their Porridge Puffs. Jai thinks they are good any time. Kasha says though he didn’t bake them he couldn’t say he loved them either. (All names have been changed to protect the guilty). Buffy went on and on about how good the Porridge Puffs were, how the raisins were perfectly blended with the oat mixture, how they rested gently on the pallet. It’s true Buffy liked the cookies. But Buffy has been living in isolation. Kasha will have it known that he did not say he didn’t hate them cookies. Penny instantly recog nized the cookies as the reincarnation of the oatmeal she had prepared for breakfast and she loved them as a mother loves her own chil

dren. But everyone knows Penny is a Faerie Oat Being and by her own admission is full of “ oat.” Upon reflection, while digesting the cookie, she had herself brought in the world as a breakfast dish (which, by the way went splen didly with the granola, stretching the supply along with the stomach wall), Penny began to know Eden in an intimate way. Eden, the invet erate food reincarnator, who looks at fresh ears of corn and envisions not what he’ll make from the corn, but from the leftover corn.

O, D estiny Space and time, beware. W e come down through the Cosmos. Flowers in our hair. (Yes, we know all of that. Just make sure you make good cookies or for that matter good everything when you make something for the Faerie Light Beings.They are used to the best and after all they do do everything.)

A n onym ous C h o co late mousse 500g good dark chocolate (like Cadbury’s Bourneville), 6 large eggs. I ) Separate eggs and whip egg whites. 2) Melt chocolate in bowl over hot water, stir in yolks then fold in whipped up egg whites...voila! Caution: Highly addictive. Do not listen to those who suggest add-ins such as cognac, hazelnuts, etc.Th eir is joy in simplicity.

A nonym ous I can relax in an atmosphere of structure. It’s true, I confess. I’m loving this gathering, this "intentionality.” I want more.

T h o ughts by Pinkie W hen I come to a gathering I am always sur prised. I remember the people. So many friends. So much love. I have gotten to know so many. I am part of a network of Faerie Light Beings. So many individuals together (and not) doing so much. On the surface it looks like it happens by magic. As I look closer I see that it does. It is an easy adjustment. I’ve gotten used to the magic. I expect it. I demand it. But I’m not complacent. The Faerie Light Beings can and do do every thing. Some times I help them when I can. If you meet the Faerie Light Beings, get used to magic but don’t be complacent about it.You’ll have a smoother ride that way. Absorb and be absorbed. Don’t worry. It’s supposed to be like that.

Anonym ous

and gestures that mean one thing in the other world, mean something completely different in the Faerie world. At home a tender kiss in the dark, a hand rubbing my thigh, pressing flesh and touching flesh...knowingly, intentionally...means a night of sex and romance. Here it is what it is without expecta tion or promise.

A boy kisses me goodnight in the dark woods. O u r beams illuminate trees and ferns. W e kiss six, seven, eight times? Lips slightly parted, I hunger for more. W ant to swallow his tongue, his lips, his heart. W e part. In sweet dreams we kiss all night to the sound of rain on the roof of my tent. And now I have realized that words

A nonym ous New vocabulary words or noted increase in use:

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Visions o f th e F u tu re fro m a C ircle o f 3 I People Friday A M - f Destiny is not the only sanctuary in the NE. Sanctuaries 3 hr. apart. O ther kinds of communi ties, smaller, different intentions, urban, etc. -f The variety of communities to different needs, -f Beginning a list of places to visit - a network for travelers. + Joey Cain - networking that brings folks with special gifts to train others from different communities to foster cross-polli nation of culture, technologies, visions, -f Neighborhood community building. -f Seeing Destiny evolve makes us think that anything is possible. Learning to deal directly with issues - savor the process, -f Being part of gatherings at Destiny feels like being a resident even though we don’t actually live here, -f Creating safe space - non-judgmental love and support. -f Trench land for perk test on Destiny in the spring, -f Creating a future means recognizing our own past and the contributions of our

elders, -f A place for our elders - taking care of them, loving and including them, -f Do more than make time to "be together.” Learn to be more present with the people you are with. Bring magic into daily life, -f Be festive “ with” a lot of people instead of “for” a lot of people. -f To grow old enfolded in a community of love, -f Urban housing together which supports rural gathering space. + Resident community at Destiny - more community building specific to a 2 hr. radius, -f A balance of consensus and initia tive models. More open speak and clarity about power structures/dynamics. -f Community built through individual/personal relationships. + Regular contact and check-in with other faerie communities and larger circle of queer and other intentional communities. + Madhouse performance space all the time, -f Models for income-sharing, shared living spaced. -f- Brave 31

Faerie C a m p Detttny Convocation of' Communities

experimentation - room for women and children in faerie culture, -f Involvement with local com munity. -f Building networks of wellness. Moving from a quantity to a quality of life. Networks for healing and creativity, 4- Sharing the riches of our communities with others in a bridge building way. + W e create Sanctuary by our relationships - not the pretty land they are on. 4- Be more political - activism builds community.The socio economic construct we call the US could fall apart after a number of eco-crises. We need to be ready and networked to ride this out. -f New ways/models for how to do things. Encouraging residency at Destiny.

4 Queerness is how you live your life according to your calling not who you fuck - embrace all queerness! 4 Rural faeries - a vital part of the world not isolated, 4 Make places where peo ple can fall apart and be held, 4 Share skills as a resource list starting from this gathering for ward. 4 Develop skills of conflict resolution. -h Have a Convocation of Communities every 5 years and a smaller one every year. And then we all had lunch, mmmm tasty! Good cookies too!

W rite u s a le tte r! Send som e e m a il! A ll q u e rie s an sw ered !

F a e rie C am p D e stin y PO B o x 1 4 9 1 , B ra ttle b o ro , VT 0 5 3 0 1 w w w .F a e rie C a m p D e stin y .o rg (w e b ) in fo @ FaerieC am p D estin y.o rg (e m a il) In the next six months a chapbook or journal about the Convocation will be published.To order a copy contact Destiny at the above address.

“Who Are We?:

Communities Directory 2000, the Q u e e r in C om m unity e-mail list, RFD, etc.) w ere described, and a hand-out sum m arizing this research w as prepared. W e expect to publish longer sum m aries of w hat we've learned in RFD and Communities magazine soon.

A Survey of Queer Intentional Communities” by Scotty I)og F or several years, the Faerie Com munities Research Project has been interviewing resi dents of gay m e n ’s intentional communities, w riting abo u t communal life for gay men, and holding w ork sh o p s to let others know w hat w e find. Since the people involved in this project are building a gay intentional com m u nity (the Puppydogs), we bring a sense of rapport and em pathy to this w ork and the people we talk to. At the Destiny w orkshop, we heard stories about sixteen gay communities, and descrip tions of a half-dozen “fae-friendly” straight / mixed ones. Resources (such as the Fellowship for Intentional Communities, the

Please help with this ongoing research! Write or call with y o u r dish —com m unity names, addresses, people to contact, descrip tions, stories, & experiences. We re interest ed in com munities from all parts o f the globe; we re even interested in histories and stories about com munities w hich no longer exist!

Faerie Communities Research Project 2808 SE 26th Avenue Portland, O R USA 97202-1229 +503-231-2512 (tel.) +503-235-3374 (fax) theron@reed.edu (e-mail)

DRAG KINGS A

B. J.

P ' H O T O G R A

C H L O E A T K 1 N S Ever since 1 began photographing some twenty years ago, 1 have been fascinated by people, particularly women, and s p e c ific a lly lesbians. 1 have p ro d u c e d over tw e n ty - fiv e thousand images o f the lesbian and gay community o f San Francisco at Club 0 , the Box, and Wet. Over the years, Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ve become closer to what I am seeing and creating. I have internalized the vision and accept it as 33

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NICOLA

MACK

CARLOS

STAFFORD Ft JORDY

JENNA a JOY

SEAN

BIANCA a RANDEN

GINA a JENNA

CLAl) DINE

MARIA, JAMIE ft EVELYN

AMY

MARIO FROM THE BARRIO

FAIRY BUTCH

S H I R I F.Y U ('.I S I

MARCIA ft SARAH

« < page 33 who I truly am. The thousands of pictures I’ve taken somehow become one image in my m ind-a portrait of the lesbian community. My photos document how our lesbian community really looks. Real lesbians appear in these photos-looking just the way they look, reflecting our m ulticultural and dynamic community with all its informal camp and playful fantasy. Most of these pictures are in my book Girl's N ight Out, published by St. Martin's Press. Not every image was taken at Club Q. A few are from my stint as the official photographer of San Francisco's first Drag King Contest. Now that was a thrill. I set up on the roof of the Eagle bar and used the night sky as the back ground. As San Francisco's finest hutches paraded in front of my camera, I was wearing a little miniskirt and high-heeled boots. Included also are photographs taken at Club Confidential, a cabaret-style lounge featuring acts from the queer underground and stylish appearances from those to whom style matters. Hosted by Jordy Jones and Stafford, it playfully recalls the lesbian venues of other eras. Of course, there is also butch dyke Karlyn Lotney as Fairy Butch, and her drag queen alter ego, Shirley U Gest. Karlyn is a local entertainer who presents the hottest strippers to the San Francisco queer community. Fairy Butch is the epitome of a sexy butch woman. She styles in a Ilashy tuxedo and hosts her show from a bed onstage. When the dancers finish their acts, they climb in bed with Fairy Butch to be interviewed. It’s all very funny and sex positive. Girls' Night Out is the realization of my dream to see my work shown to a large audience. This collection of fabulous women out to have a qood time evokes

. . .

the energy, sexy playfulness, and diversity of lesbians out on the town. To my mind, these photos show lesbians at our best. These are fresh, life affirming images of, by, and for lesbians-subtly erotic images that capture the essence of Girls' Night Out. I am honored to extend my audience for these photos to the fairy diverse community of RFD readers. Thousands more images and the book are available from me at www.chloeatkins.com.

SMOOTH HANDS LOUIE ( s e l f - p o r t r a i t )

nomenus

Impressions of a Past

Nomenus and W olf Creek Sanctuary Today

by Deadly N ig h tM a re

A ca reta k er p e r sp e c tiv e o n r ec e n t h isto r y and o th er m u s in g s ...

"Y o u need a bridge," Oskrr once said, "betw een o u r faeriedom and th e w orld o u t there. If w e say 'W e are a bunch o f Faeries w ho w a n t to have la n d ...' So, so w hat?? They d o n 't listen. But, if you present a name, a president, secretary and a treasurer, and an organization th e w ay th e y like to have it, th e y listen." Oskrr was th e firs t Nomenus Caretaker to move to th e W o lf Creek Sanctuary. For Oskrr, "N om enus is the m ist th a t you go th ro u gh to get to th e magic place, fro m the outside to he re..." So, here I sit, th is early m orning try in g to put w ords to w h a t is fo r me so much about fle e ting impressions and ephemeral glimpses into a past. You ask anybody about Nomenus and th e W o lf Creek Sanctuary and, if they have heard o f us a t all, you are bound to hear som ething interesting. It may n o t be w ha t you w ere expecting or w an tin g to hear, but the stories make fo r fascinating listening. The giant p a tch w o rk o f stories keeps grow ing and

by S a p p h ire B e i n g a rela tiv e n e w c o m er to N o m e n u s a n d th e R ad ical F a e r ie s (I a tten d ed m y fir s t F a erie G a th e r in g h ere at B elta n e 1 9 9 4 ) m y p e r sp e c tiv e a n d h is to ry d o n ’t ca rry th e b a g g a g e o f th e W olf C reek S a n c tu a r y ’s b ir th a n d c h ild h o o d . I do see m y s e lf a s p r e tty in v o lv ed in its a d o lescen ce a n d e a r ly a d u lth o o d , th o u g h . N o m e n u s, th e S a n c tu a r y a n d th e R adical F aerie c o m m u n ity in g e n e r a l are a ll, it se e m s to m e, in th e m id st o f a g e n e r a tio n a l tr a n sitio n . W h ile m a n y o f th o se w h o se v isio n g r e w in to th e W olf C reek S a n ctu a r y are s till in v o lv ed , m a n y o th e r s have m oved on in o n e w a y or a n o th e r and th e lifeblood o f th e S a n c tu a r y is n o w c o m in g from th e seco n d and th ird g e n e r a tio n o f fa eries, lik e m y s e lf and m y fellow 41

Impressions...

Nomenus Today...

changing. "M y th ic " is the w ay one Faerie described th e ir firs t impressions o f the W o lf Creek Sanctuary at th is September's Convocation o f C om m unities in V erm ont. M y firs t impressions w ere th a t Nomenus and the Sanctuary w ere some grand "experim ents" in making th e dream o f a Faeriedom m anifest. This idea o f an e xp erim e nt is a term th a t m any in Nom enus are fond o f using; the results o f th a t experim ent are still out. Nomenus, so one o f th e stories goes*, sprung o u t o f a C alifornia Radical Faerie group called Gay Vision Circle th a t included M ica Kidman, W ill Roscoe, his lover Bradlee Rose, H arry Hay and his lover John Burnside, and Cass Brayton. Gay Vision Circle was m eet ing w ith th e idea o f establishing a land trust. The o riginal goal o f GVC, according to W ill, "was to have a collective living on the land, a small group o f people w ho w ere bonded to each o th e r." That firs t Radical Faerie g a th e r ing in the sum m er o f 1979, organized by Don Kilhefner, M itch W alker, H arry and John, sparked the desire fo r som ething more mean ingful than spending m oney on yet another overpriced camping site w here the magick o f Radical Faeries was subject to the rules and regulations o f the mundane w orld. For Cass th e goal o f GVC was to "take w ha teve r m oney each o f us w ould spend attending a n o th e r gathering and apply it to w a rd a down paym ent on a modest piece o f land, sustain it w ith m o n th ly donations from w hoever could use o f th e land, and v o ila ! We w ould have a Faerie Sanctuary, a perm anent home fo r gatherings in C alifornia." Using £2000 in seed money, le ft over fro m the recent "Blossom o f Bone," the second N orthern C alifornia Radical Faerie gathering held in 1983, GVC began th e ir land tru s t pro ject. There w ere several years o f intense fo o t w o rk searching fo r the rig h t spot and many debates about th e w hole issue o f land o w n e r ship.

ca reta k ers. T h is g e n e r a tio n a l tr a n s itio n h a s added a d y n a m ic to th e a lr ea d y DYNAMIC p r o c e s s th a t is N o m e n u s. T he c h a lle n g e w e are w o r k in g on n o w is s y n th e s iz in g th e v is io n s o f th e S a n c tu a r y ’s fo u n d e r s w ith th o se o f u s w h o h a v e g r o w n up la ter in a d iffe r e n t s o c ia l an d c u ltu r a l clim a te , y e t s till sh a r e a v is io n o f fey c o m m u n ity w ith o u r e ld e r s. A dd to th a t th e m y r ia d o f v is io n s h e ld b y a ll th e m em b ers o f th e N o m e n u s c o m m u n ity ,

♦ Historical information from The Radical Faeries and Nomenus, by Thomas Riordan, 1991.

Sapphire

and y o u g e t th e S a n c tu a r y to d a y ... a g a w k y 13 y e a r old, stretching* its w ing's, read y to fly. O ne o f th e b ig g e s t c h im e r a s th a t w e w r e stle w ith is “W hat is th is p la c e ? ” O r ig in a lly b o u g h t a s a p la c e to h o ld g a t h e r in g s , it h a s ev o lv ed in to w h a t I lo v in g ly refer to a s an e v e r -c h a n g in g “u n in te n tio n a l c o m m u n ity ”. U n in te n tio n a l, n o t in th e s e n se th a t th er e is n o in te n t a m o n g th e c o m m u n ity h ere, b u t in th e s e n s e o f “g e e , th er e ’s so m e k in d o f c o m m u n ity

Impressions...

Nomenus Today...

As m ore m eetings w ere held and the dis cussions grew , th e idea th a t GVC could q u alify as a n o n -p ro fit co rp oration began to form . Creating a n o n -p ro fit corporation m eant th a t Radical Faeries could make tax-deductible donations. H ow ever, there was concern about the possibility o f hom ophobia if business mail had the w ord "gay" in the return address. According to M ica "in a group trance process, we sought a name th a t w ould be both anony mous and an expression o f o u r uniqueness. Nomen us evolved as a synthesis o f lum inous, num inous, temenous (Greek fo r th e e n try p o in t to a sacred space at w hich one leaves the residue o f th e everyday w o rld ), and 'n o t m en' or No Men Us. W e later realized nomenus is also a Latin approxim ation fo r 'o u r nam e'." In 1982, GVC incorporated as a n o n -p ro fit and Nomenus was born. In 1985, Nomenus applied to th e Internal Revenue Service fo r tax-exem pt status as a religious organization, and was denied. W h a t ensued was an exhausting, tw o year b a ttle w ith the IRS, w hich consistently denied the tax-exem pt 501(c)(3) status. Through the dedication o f W ill, Bradlee, and M ica, hundreds o f hours w ere spent fig h tin g th e bureaucracy, pushing paperw ork th ro u g h and, answering questions about structure, leadership and goals. Finally, in A p ril 1987, th e IRS granted Nomenus its tax-exem pt status as a church. The docum ent Nomenus Talks to The IRS, and its fo u r hun dred-some pages, stands as a w e ig h ty testa m ent to th e pow er o f vision and determ ina tio n . Eventually, the Nomenus circle opted to buy M agdalene Farm, an eighty-acre farm in Southern Oregon, seventy-six miles north o f the C alifornia border, owned by George Jalbert, a fo rm e r Gay Jesuit n o vitiate. George had set up a co m m u n ity w ith about eight o th e r gay men, all ex-brothers. Over the years, since th e o rig in al land purchase in 1976, the co m m u n ity had dw indled down to one.

h ere th a t ju st so rt o f happened". B ut w h a t k in d o f c o m m u n ity do w e h ave, and w h a t k in d o f c o m m u n ity do w e w an t? In th e la st ten y e a r s so m e 2 0 fa eries h ave ta k en on th e o ffic ia l title (i.e. cons e n se d to by N o m e n u s G reat C ircle) o f “R e sid e n t” an d /or “C a reta k er” (and at lea st th a t m a n y h a v e o s te n sib ly don e th e job w ith o u t th e title). T h ere’s se e m s to be a co m p lete tu r n o v e r abou t e v er y th ree or fo u r y e a r s, w h ic h r e a lly is n ’t m u c h tim e

Deadly NightMare w h e n y o u ’re w orking' o n a lo n g -te r m p r o ject or tr y in g to b u ild a co m m u n ity . B u t N o m e n u s h isto r y is rich w ith “on th e land vs. o ff th e la n d ” c o n flic t w h ic h h a s con trib u ted to c a re ta k er b u r n o u t a n d tu rn over. T h o se s o r ts o f c o n flic ts h a v e le sse n e d over th e la st c o u p le o f years: tr u st h a s g r o w n b etw eeen th e c a re ta k er c o m m u n ity and th e g r e a te r o r g a n iz a tio n to th e p o in t th a t a s e r io u s d is c u s s io n on “C aretak er A u to n o m y ” h a s b e g u n . W hat th a t m e a n s or w h e r e it w ill lead 11s is

Impressions...___________

Nomenus Today...

Nomenus bo ug h t th e land in 1987 fo r approxi m ately £55,000. O ut o f the sweat, blood and a dreams o f a handful o f gay men the Nomenus vVolf Creek Radical Faerie Sanctuary was cre ated. Depending on w ho you hear the story told by, you can expect to hear loads o f dish about th is o r th a t pow er struggle, o f nuns w ith guns, o f smashed altars and o f folks dying, o f folks leaving the organization in a h u ff and loads o f o th e r stu ff. It really does make fo r some fa n ta stic copy! But a fo u n d a tio n was laid, nonetheless, th a t has helped

u n clea r r ig h t now , b u t it is a ste p th a t m a n y feel is th e r ig h t d ir e c tio n for N o m e n u s a n d th e S a n ctu a ry . M an y w ith in th e o r g a n iz a tio n e n v is io n th a t in th e c o m in g y e a r s, th e c a r e ta k e r c o m m u n ity w ill sta b ilize in to s o m e th in g m o re lo n g term , w h ic h w ill a llo w for m o re in v o lv ed p ro jects su c h a s so m e k in d o f c o tta g e in d u stry , b e c o m in g m o re s e lf-s u ffic ie n t in o u r g a r d e n s , k e e p in g a n im a ls, a n d th e lik e. T he p r a c tic a l p r o b le m s w e fa ce stem from a s h o r ta g e o f y e a r-ro u n d livingsp a c e s a n d th e fa c t th a t d u e to c h a n g e s in s ta te zoning- r e g u la tio n s, w e c a n ’t b u ild a n y m ore d w e llin g s . T h e e x is t in g co m m o n sp a c es, th e B a rn a n d G arden H o u se are a g in g a n d in n e e d o f s e r io u s rep a ir w o rk . T he h u m a n e le m e n t to th is p u z z le is con ju rin g- to g e th e r a g r o u p o f p e o p le w ith som ethin gr e s e m b lin g a c o m m o n v is io n , w h o c a n be w e a v e th e m se lv e s to g e th e r in to a s tr o n g a n d v ib ra n t c o m m u n ity b a sed on fa e r y id e a ls and th e N o m e n u s m is s io n . O ver th e la st sev e r a l y e a r s th e c a r e ta k e r c o m m u n ity h ere h a s flu c tu a te d b e tw e e n tw o a n d e ig h t, a n d c u r r e n tly s it s at four. In th at tim e th e in te r p e r so n a l d y n a m ic s o f th e c o m m u n ity h a v e a lso flu c tu a te d b etw een c lo se ly b on d ed a n d b a r e ly c o m m u n ic a t in g . It se e m s a s th o u g h ju s t a s a p a r tic u lar g r o u p b u ild s a so lid fo u n d a tio n , so m e on e m o v es o n a n d so m e o n e n e w m o v e s in. T he c u r re n t g r o u p in g (.just a few m o n th s old) o f D eadly, B lo sso m , M o u se, a n d m e is o ff to an e n c o u r a g in g sta r t. We c a n ta lk to ea ch o th er a n d w o r k to g e th e r , a n d b est o f all, w e en jo y e a ch o th e r ’s co m p a n y . B ut I’ll be m o v in g o n so m e tim e m id -year; th e revolving* door ev er tu r n in g . W oven in to th is ta p e str y th a t is N o m e n u s a n d th e S a n c tu a r y are th e

The Barn prior to renovation. sanctuaries like Faerie Camp Destiny and Zuni M o u n ta in years later, and influenced the lives o f countless Faeries o f all stripes over the past th irte e n-p lu s years. I heard about th e Radical Faeries and Nomenus in 1993, w ith a friend taking me to visit the Sanctuary the next year. By 1995 I was a tte n d ing Nom enus meetings and g e tting involved w ith th e process o f consensus. As an organization fo r and about gay men w ith the specific goal o f "creating, preserving and m an aging places o f spiritual and cu ltural sanctu ary fo r Radical Faeries and th e ir Friends to gather in harm ony w ith nature, fo r renewal, g ro w th and shared learning", I was eager to

Impressions...

Nomenus Today...

be part o f th e experim ent. Coming o u t o f ten years o f p o litica l activism where the results o f m y w o rk w ere hard to see in m y im m ediate surroundings, it fe lt good to be w orkin g p o liti cally and to see th e direct results o f my w o rk as th e y bore fr u it at the Sanctuary. By the sum m er o f 1997 I was ready to make the com m itm e n t o f being a Caretaker fo r the Sanctuary. To th is day, I still believe it was one o f th e best choices I've made in my life. Nom enus gets a lo t o f dish fo r its process and a tte m p ts a t consensus. The idea th a t any gay man w ho signs and presents to Nomenus a m em bership fo rm , agreeing to the purposes o f Nomenus, can have equal access to the decision m aking process (and an equal rig h t to block the decision m aking process), is som ething th a t makes a lot o f people very fru stra te d . I ce rta in ly have had m y m om ents o f fru s tra tio n . However, the process, when exercised correctly, has always proven to be w o rth w h ile . It's a to o l, like any o th e r tool, th a t requires understanding and skill fo r the m ost e ffic ie n t results. I th in k it is a very pow erful goal to aspire to : a process where every one listens ca re fu lly to everyone else, and everyone's opinion is im po rta n t. This experim ent th a t is Nomenus has been a ro lle r coaster ride fo r most anybody w ho has decided to invest the tim e to see w h a t it is all about. I've cr<ed tears o f jo y and tears o f rage a t all th e ups and downs o f life in Nomenus. But I have learned a fe w im por ta n t th in gs along th e way. Nomenus has cre ated a place here in W o lf Creek th a t I like to refer to as the Land o f the M any Permissions. Here you w ill fin d yo u rself th ro u gh w ha t you p e rm it yo u rself to do/be and w h a t you feel you are p e rm itte d to do/be. W ith alm ost any th in g being possible here, because yo u r opin ion is im p o rta n t, it is o fte n very d iffic u lt to fin d a sense o f self.

fa eries and fr ie n d s w h o co m e to sp en d tim e here. A n e v e r -c h a n g in g k a leid o sco p e o f h u m a n ity , s e e k in g sh elter, s e e k in g sa n ctu a ry , s e e k in g h e a lin g . F or a lo n g tim e, W olf C reek h a s had th e rep u ta tio n o f b e in g a g r e a t p la ce to h a n g o u t if you had n o th in g to do an d n o m on ey. T he S a n ctu a r y h a s a lw a y s b een h ere for w h o m ev er felt th e c a ll or n eed to be h e r en o q u e s tio n s a sk ed . M any, m a n y fa b u lo u s fe y s h a v e co m e th r o u g h h e r e over th e y e a r s s h a r in g th e ir g if t s a n d co n tr ib u t in g to th e o n g o in g e x p e r im e n t th a t is the S an ctu ary. B u t m o re th a n a few have h u n g a ro u n d , w ith n o p a r tic u la r fo c u s or in ten t, b e c a u se it w a s a co o l p la ce to party. In an effo rt to tr y to b r in g so m e fo c u s to w h a t it is w e w a n t to be about, N o m e n u s ca m e up w ith so m e g u id e lin e s for v isits. B a sic a lly it a llo w s fo r a n y o n e to v isit fo r tw o w e e k s, w ith v e ry little o b lig a tio n to th e o n g o in g co m m u n ity .

Springtime in the Garden 4S

Impressions...

Nomenus Today...

But, hang o u t w ith me long enough and you w ill hear me say w h a t has become my standard catch phrase: " G irl! Boundaries are a GOOD th in g ! !" W e need boundaries in our lives to give us a sense o f d e fin itio n , to under stand w h a t is rig h t fo r us and w h a t isn't. We need a little d e fin itio n to help us appreciate the difference between th e sacred and the profane. W e need th a t tem enos, th a t ancient e n try p o in t fro m one w orld to the next. I feel the Radical Faerie m ovem ent needs the Nomenus experim ent, as w e tr y to define fo r ourselves o u r relationship between all the many w orld s w e dance between. Somewhere ju s t beyond th e m ists there is a magick place we all feel at hom e in and this experim ent is an e n try p o in t to th a t place.

A fter th a t, v is ito r s a n d c a r e ta k e r s w o rk to g e th e r to c la r ify e x p e c ta tio n s a n d g o a ls for ev ery o n e. A fter a b o u t tw o y e a r s in effect, th e v is ito r g u id e lin e s h a v e p ro v ed to be a h a n d y to o l for keeping* th e lin e s o f c o m m u n ic a tio n o p en , a n d helping* p eo p le be clea r ab ou t w h y th e y are here, a s o p p o sed to a n y w h e r e e lse . H ea rt C ircles and w e e k ly L and M e e tin g s are o th er w a y s th a t w e co m e to g e th e r in o rd er to keep th e c o m m u n ity hum m ing* along* as w ell a s d ea l w ith c o n flic t a n d d ra m a . A nd th r o u g h it a ll, a n d so m e tim e s in sp ite o f o u r s e lv e s , w e th riv e . We g a th e r sev era l tim e s a y e a r to rejo ice in th e c y c le s o f th e ea rth , a n d in e a c h other. P eop le com e h ere to r e c h a r g e th e m se lv e s an d recharg*e th e la n d , fo r it is a n e n e r g e tic r e la tio n sh ip o f g iv e a n d ta k e , feed a n d be fed, h e a l a n d be h e a le d . H u n d r ed s o f fa e r ies h o ld th is p la c e c lo se in th eir h e a r ts a n d c o n sid e r it th e ir sp ir itu a l h om e. T h ere is nothing* lik e th e g lo w in g , b e a m in g fa ce o f a fa e r ie “c o m in g h o m e ” to W olf C reek a fter a n e x te n d e d tim e aw ay. Or th e fa ce o f so m e o n e coming* h ere for th e fir s t tim e a n d “g e t t in g it”. It is a te sta m e n t to th e im p o r ta n c e o f th e S a n c tu a r y in th e liv e s o f so m a n y p eo p le a n d is a c o n s ta n t r em in d e r to m e o f th e m a g ic a n d p o w e r o f th is p la ce. It is n o t a c o in c id e n c e th a t w e are here. We feed th is la n d a n d it fe e d s u s. A s life o n th e o u tsid e b eco m es in c r e a s in g ly a lie n a tin g , o p p re siv e, g e n e r ic , a n d B O R ING , it b e c o m e s in c r e a s in g ly im p o rta n t th a t p la c e s lik e th e fa erie s a n c tu a r ie s e x is t . S afe h a v e n s w h e r e q u e e r s o f a ll s tr ip e s c a n co m e a n d BE. W hat h a s th e e x p e r ie n c e b een for m e? A n d , w e ll, w h y am I doing* th is? I ca m e h e r e to be a c a r e ta k er o f th e sa n c tu a r y b e c a u se I b eliev e v ery

" If you aim fo r the sky, you'll get to the to p o f th e tree. If you aim fo r the top o f the tree, yo u 'll never leave the ground," Deadly N ig h tM a re if fond o f saying. He has been caretaking at th e W o lf Creek Sanctuary since 1997. He is a firm believer in the Tao o f Tea and Beyonding For Spots.

The Bridge Memorial

Qun

Nomenus Today...

t&e Jla*t-cC

Three-stage development consensus, from the July 19££ Nomenus G reat Circle:

s tr o n g ly in th e id ea s th a t led to th e cre a tio n o f th is sa n c tu a r y ; b eca u se I believe th a t by coming* to g e th e r in c o m m u n ity R adical F a e r ies can h ea l ea ch o th er and help to c h a n g e th e w orld . “Lead by e x a m p le ” h a s a lw a y s b een m y creed. I’m h ere b eca u se I feel th a t I h a v e s o m e th in g to o ffer th is sa n c tu a r y a n d th is c o m m u n i ty and th a t th e y h a v e s o m e th in g to offer m e. It h a s b een an d c o n tin u e s to be o n e o f th e m o st c h a lle n g in g a n d r e w a r d in g e x p e r ie n c e s in m y life. I’m d o in g th is b eca u se I w a n t to liv e m y life in a w a y th a t s e e k s to crea te and celeb ra te, and to revel in th e e x p e r ie n c e o f b e in g alive. I do it for th e su b lim e m o m e n ts, th e m o m en ts o f m ag’ick , w h e n I sa y to m y se lf, “A h, y e s, th is is g o o d , th is is w h y I do it, th is is w h a t it’s a ll a b o u t.” L ike w h e n I’m w e e d in g th e ca rro t bed at tw ilig h t and th e h a u n tin g ly b e a u tifu l s o u n d s o f a fa ery p la y in g th e p ia n o d r ift a c r o ss the g a r d e n a n d m ix w ith th e s c e n t o f h o n e y su c k le an d th e e v e n in g b ir d so n g . Or w h e n a m y s te r y p a c k a g e c o m e s from U PS, a n d a w o n d er fu l n e w ca rt is in sid e, an d w e are rem in d ed th a t y e s, so m e o n e o u t th ere lo v es u s. Or w h e n w e r itu a lly u n w ra p a sa ra n -w ra p p ed fa erie o n h er birthday. Or w h e n I see a n e w c o m e r ’s face g lo w in d e lig h t at th e m a g ic k o f th is p la ce an d th e F a eries. T h ese a n d m a n y o th e r s serv e to s u s ta in m e. E n v elo p ed in th e w o o d sto v e w a rm th o f m y h om e, T eresa, I feel o p tim istic abou t th e fu tu r e th e S a n ctu a ry . D esp ite th e d a u n tin g a m o u n t o f w o r k a h ea d o f u s, a n d th e in ev ita b le d r a m a s to com e, th ere is a fe e lin g a m o n g th o se o f u s here now th at th is is g o in g to be a g o o d and p r o sp e ro u s year. I try to fo c u s on the th in g s th is p la ce is about: tr u th , love, tr u st, a n d h op e for a b etter w orld. It is n ’t a lw a y s easy, but th en a g a in , if th is w ere an e a sy road, m ore p eo p le w o u ld be on it.

We propose th a t our vision for use of the tend will include three development stages, each meeting certain need we have agreed to or may agree to by consensus and each requiring certain physical improvements to be constructed over time: ! in the current period, providing facilities for hosting gatherings and informal visits by small groups. In this phase we will continue to improve access to the tend, as well as the Infrastructure for basic services: water collection and distribu tion, electricity distribution, seasonal kitchen facilities, meeting space such as large tent, sani ta ry facilities, protected tool storage and work shop space. 2. Soon, providing re tre a t space for individual faeries and fo r small workshops. In this phase, we will begin to develop y ear-round camping, kitchen and sanitary facilities possibly centered on a “ lodge” building or complex, and will develop the means fo r scheduling and organizing events. 3. Later, allowing fo r a full-time residential com munity on the land. In th is phase, subject to future planning discussions, we would provide for year-round housing and possibly cottage industry facilities in a fashion consist ent with our general development principles, emphasizing creative and unobtrusive interaction with the natural environ ment and the primary use of the tend as a retreat and healing space. Amendment: the land and all structures on it will remain corporately held. Nothing in this proposal is meant to allow for privatuatlon of ownership of any portion of the land or improvement thereon. Any future agreements allowing individuals to reside on the land will be for specific periods of time and specific purposes, subject to regular review of the G reat Circle or its designees. No new lifetime tenures shall be granted to any individual.

S ap p h ire and h is th re e c a ts h ave been liv in g at W olf C reek s in c e D ecem b er 1997.

We dance, we flirt, we blindly grope We prance in skirts and shoes of taupe We use words here like taupe and girl We are nerds who give a twirl; A parasol lingers then cuts a path No need for outsiders to do the math A pagan ritual of regular news Is punctuated now by the cats' mews; San Francisco, Seattle, Guam And years ago a firebomb And AIDS and thrush and latex glove And gardens overgrown with love; The good, the bad, the ugly, all Return to the sound of the purple call For here at this old sanctuary A queer can really be a faery!

R ambling O de to W olf C reek

by Blueberry We dress or undress and go for walks Across the meadow's piercing stalks Here a scorpion under a rock There a man who swings his cock; The hills around us swallow us In town we meet the Tortoise bus We park our shiny urban cars Above us gleam two thousand stars; Here a garden hose, there a snake The grasshoppers click and slowly bake Sheets and blankets, new tea packets Intrepid flies and yellow jackets; In our circles we convene And find out what our meanings mean The trees hold our forgotten words In nests of bright and troubadour birds; A bucket of sawdust, a magazine porn The crazy mists of earliest morn We look, we smile, we count a face Hips connect a haunting embrace; Paint is peeling, metals rust And in and out and in goes trust We cry, we glare, we trip, we tweak We fly, we care, we flip, we speak; Hair and shit and piss and hope We borrow advice or worsted rope A bit of plastic in the grass A condom lost once in our ass; Beltaine revelry We sweat and think and follow trails And gather round for pagan tales A pot is steaming and tofu crumbles Oh, listen, a locomotive rumbles; We rebuild our souls whe'e happiness falters We erect and correct a slew of altars A rock outcrops from Mother Earth For m ore in fo r m a tio n a b o u t N o m e n u s or Another successful gay rebirth; th e W olf C reek S a n ctu a ry , w r ite , ca ll, or Streamers flap as per the breeze em ail u s at: Some faeries eschew the dairy cheese Petty scandals, electric wires PO B o x 3 1 2 No more candles, no more fires; W olf Creek, OR 9 7 4 9 7 (5 4 1 )8 6 6 -2 6 7 8 The walls of evergreen, the little creek Babble and scoff at rigid week n o m en us@b u d g e t.n et We faeries share, let's not provoke or We burn the incense to invoke; PO B o x 1 7 0 3 5 8 In the belly as it were San F r a n c isco , CA 9 4 1 1 7 Of a beast that's wearing fur We cultify and educate We weep for spirits that others hate; 43

POETRV Crapmics

D u m a * w o t* *

P.S. I Love Me What I like most about a snowy day is to walk in the woods and sing the entire soundtrack of Yentl. Trees and snow act as a grand stage for my sensitive interpretation. When there is high pressure humidity 1often settle down in a lounge chair to apply Marcella Borghese mud mask, to manicure toes and fingers, and reign as Queen of Leisure over what could be unbearable. For this 1 like to listen to Carly Simon’s misunderstood album Spoiled Girl. When it rains 1 prefer the domestic. Give me the hum of a dishwasher and something written after World War II for a good dose of ultraviolet culture. Recently it was raining And 1 read that depression is the fear of taking responsibility of one’s ow'n life. This was true for me until now. No longer do 1 wrestle w'ith the seasonal demands of being. I tickle those beasts to the ground and stand triumphant. For I have sprouted golden boy: lover, poet, rebel, prophet, singing my heart to eternity.

Waiting for Rain I stand, back to desert, waiting for rain. Three black men cruise me. I flirt and run, move to an alley, eyes pleading to the sky. I an certain of rain falling fine from the haze and brashly slapping its cool, metal hand Yet tonight there is drought. The yellow mist struggles, never erupts. I return to my car and w'ait for the rain. The old break in my shin aches but no longer works. I trusted my pain, the way I read your face and knew, behind the stubble, a map of high pressure systems and swirling debris. I leave the flood plain and retreat to high ground. I cannot ignore the strain in my leg or the warning of rain. I am crippled and thirsty, deciphering signs, yellow and black, red and white markers, danger ahead.

Now read this again but when you do throw in some background music. Try some Odetta, or Madonna’s smash second album. Like a Virgin—That’ll work. And repeat this over and over: What I like most of all is me.

I am certain of rain But am no longer sure.

David Brown NYC, NY

D. Scott Humphries New York, NY 49

Anticipating Seth Time Will? An act of love, this coughing tractor, chattering mower beneath me silencing the video songs that filled the morning until you called and I went wild to get things ready for your coming.

Time when too little is said For what has been done Nonsense is made of plans So quickly abandoned Like pounding out twenty pushups Without draw-ing a breath If 1could speak the outrage Perhaps I would trust That my seed would not be wasted here 1 who have lost faith in causes That promise an easy way out Of the fear of death That is really the fear of life Yes for a while you could fool The average Joe into thinking That there is a way out of this Without the severity of death Many have tried many lay writhing In knots of there own complicity 1was cajoled into returning Many times I vowed never again Yet here I am anxiously awaiting Any approval or reassurance that comes Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ll not hold back For the outcome is the same Swept away in the current I hold out my hand to you

I will lay this shabby field smooth for your morning stroll. I will trim around the apple tree where you will stretch out naked in its shade at noon listening to the cicadas singing. I will fill your evening breath with the scent of mown timothy. And in the night you will feel against you the hot sun bearing down with each turn around this field darkening my skin, lightening my hair, drawing my body taut and raising this emblem of anticipation.

Charles Butterfield Hinsdale, NH

Can't Write a Poem patience and understanding

Can’t write a poem without marijuana in it Can’t write a poem without a naked boy in it Can’t write a poem without jacking off in it Can't write a poem without a big blowjob in it Can’t write a poem without shit in it Can’t write a poem without discovering how to counterfeit money in it Can't write a poem without Auschwitz, in it, without Hiroshima in it, without Pearl Harbor in it, without Aztec cut-open youth-heart temple-top in it, without Christianity’s quest to exterminate buttfucking in it, without Islam’s quest to eliminate analingus in it, without Buddhism's quest to exterminate endless rebirth in it, without each detail of Rwanda massacre and rape in it. Unable to write a haiku without an epic in it Unable to write a word without wilderness in it. Incapable of writing a syllable without the extinction of every factory' on Earth in it Unable to put a period at the end of a sentence without it becoming the Black Hole that swallows up the Big Bang.

steeping tea leaves fumigate enclosed-space dark-rooted bitterness flavors distilled water minutes extract the potency of the pungent Earth releasing soothing spells of warmth and relaxation taste me my Earl Grey lips are intense savor the aftertaste of lavender and bergamot oh tense and irritated lover taste me let the flavors of the Earth calm the raging fires 1waited hours passed into twilight where were you 1waited sensing the intolerance building within myself I prepared some tea and watched the sun sink into the horizon

Antler

lover your day was frigid you’re cold slipping warm hands into cold fingers there races up my arms a chilling force a shiver crawls up my arms and to my brain so cold look within the sapphire-novas of my eyes the windows to a volcanic-soul extreme heat release the red flames for the blue-white flames anger turn it into a steady furnace 1can share I can understand your tardiness but not the coldness of your flesh upon my own have some tea and warm my Earl Grey lips for when the angry cold retreats into my eyes fuck me

Seth Watkins San Francisco, CA SI

Welcome to the second annual RFD rural fiction contest where there are three first prize winners (why not?). We're excited because not only did we get twice the number of applicants as the previous year, virtually every entry was twice as fine. It made picking a winner— even threee— all the more enjoyable. . but all the more difficult. In fact, we were forced to chose three honorable mentions as well, which we hope to feature in the up-com ing issues. We want to congratulate Stetla-Na-Gig, Peter Melillo, and Mick Ruzich, the first prize winners, all of whose stories are printed here in issue If 100. We also give kudos to the honorable mentions, Frank Grant, Chuck Jones, and Dennis Barr. As the winter sun grows more distant and turns the fields and streams cold, as it sets earlier and earlier, now’s the time to sit inside with a hot drink and enjoy some great stories by the fire.

T H E b y

Q P e t e r

For the first time in his life, Bo Qi tried hunting quail without a dog. Fifteen minutes in the field and he stum bled into a big covey. The sudden deaf ening eruption of birds, explixling into flight every which way, completely dis oriented him. Before he could fire a shot, the quail were out of range. Normally, Bo Qi’s Big brown hunting dog Xiao Di Di found quail and flushed them at his hand signal. He had never returned home with an empty game bag. Xiao Di Di died just before hunting season. The vet had wanted to put him down a few months earlier. Multiple age-related infirmities had been the diag nosis. Xiao Di Di wasn’t in any pain and most likely wouldn’t be, the vet advised. He’d only get weaker and fade away. Actually, Xiao Di Di seemed pretty much his old self until just before the end. For the final two days. Bo Qi had lovingly fed and watered his old dog with a soup spoon. He sat on the fhxir and petted Xiao Di Di’s head and snout, his soul tom in three directions. His original plan had been to let his compan ion live out his time and pass away natu rally. But when he saw the dog so weak, he wondered if the coward’s way might not be easiest, but he could not find it in his heart to let the vet kill his dog. Over his life, Bo Qi had hunted with many dogs. His father taught him from an early age that when a dog got too sick or too injured it was right to put him out of his misery with a bullet. That was a man’s responsibility. More than once, he’d seen his father cry as he dug a hole to bury a favorite hunting dog. The third choice was the hardest to

H U N T Melillo deal with. Bo Qi sat on the floor and stroked his furry friend and wondered what was really the right thing to do. Xiao Di Di lifted his head, looked up into his master’s eyes, breathed a deep sigh and then was gone. Like a precious gift, Xiao Di Di resolved Bo Qi’s dilem ma by dying in his arms. Without his old friend, hunting lost all of its appeal for Bo Qi. If his mother hadn’t insisted that she wanted some fresh-killed quail, he would have gladly not picked up his gun. The sun had climbed high in the sky, and Bo Qi’s luck finding birds was bad. His father had taught him the safety code for hunting when he was seven years old and shouldered a gun for the first time. The primary rule is to never point your weapon at anything you don’t intend to shoot. Equally important, never push the trigger safety lock off until you’re ready to fire. Bo Qi had never broken any of his father’s rules, except by not providing a grandson. Today, though, frustrated and angry, he con sciously broke the gun safety code. His twelve gage was half-mounted and pointed at a rustling sound coming toward him. Every muscle tensed, ner vous sweat glistened, and his finger pre maturely curled around the gun’s trigger, safety off. He couldn’t allow the quail to make a fool out of him twice in the same morning. The sound was just around the next clump of bush. Bo Qi brought the gun to his shoulder and then checked himself a microsecond before squeezing oft a round of bird shot into a human face. Both hunters jumped in openmouthed surprise as they assessed what

had almost happened. Bo Qi at once pointed his shotgun at the ground and stammered, “God, I almost shot you. Hey, I’m really sorry. 1 thought, uh, you sounded like quail. You OK?” Xing Ji Ke stared hard at Bo Qi and, after a long cold moment, indignantly retorted, “What are you doing on my land? This is private property.” Bo Qi, wondering if the day could get any worse, replied, “I’m hunting on state land. My car’s right over there in the State Park parking lot. Anyway, I didn’t see any posted notices. You sure you didn’t wander over onto public land by mistake?” Xing Ji Ke grumbled, “I know when I’m on my own damn property. You crossed a shallow stream up that way, didn’t you? Your boots are still wet. That stream is the boundary between my family’s land and the State Park. We post signs every goddam year and every goddam year vandals tear them down.” Bo Qi took a deep breath and said, “Look, I believe you. I’m sorry for tres passing on your property and almost blowing your head off. I hope you’re not going to make this into a big deal. I mean, both of us standing here with loaded shotguns and all. The thing is, I didn’t get any birds, okay, so I can’t offer to give you any. How can I make this up to you? I’m not looking for trou ble.” There was an awkward pause, then Bo Qi continued. “Tell you what, I’ve got lunch and some beer in my pack. Why don’t you take them with my apologies?” “Ah, so you want to make amends.” Xing Ji Ke thought a moment, chuckled and said, “Well, you seem like a decent guy. Tell you what, my family has a cabin near here, let’s go up there and share an early lunch. We can talk some too.”

The two hunters silently mounted a half-hidden trail. They climbed their way through scrubby brush and large jagged rocks to a rustic cabin. The setting was picturesque. A clearing on a hill offered pastoral views for miles in all directions. A stream babbled a short distance down the hill from the old log structure. The two men spread their food and drink out on a long, weathered picnic table out back. Xing Ji Ke said, “Why don’t we just share all the food? Or would you rather switch lunches?” “Whatever.” Bo Qi replied. His appetite had vanished when he almost shot the other hunter. “Okay, let’s share it all.” Xing Ji Ke didn’t hide his childlike curiosity about investigating his companion’s humble but abundant lunch. Using his hunting knife, he cut the food into shareable pieces. Meanwhile, Bo Qi looked skepti cally at the fancy delicacies Xing Ji Ke had spread out on the table. Once they started eating, Bo Qi’s appetite returned in a hurry. He liked the flavors and tex tures of his companion’s food and found the mix of both lunches pleasantly inter esting. The two hardly spoke while they ate. Comments on the food were made with facial expressions, hand gestures or nods. The men relaxed and gradually felt quite comfortable with each other. An unspoken simpatico evolved and the mood between them lightened. After they had finished eating, Xing J i Ke asked, “Does that rainbow-colored patch on your game bag mean something, or is it just a decoration?” “It’s a miniature rainbow flag.” “Does it have some significance?”

“It’s a gay liberation symbol. ‘We are all people of the rainbow living in peace and harmony’ or something or other. It was given to me by a dear friend who died. And yes, I am queer.” “I thought it might be a gay thing, very colorful. I'm not gay myself, you understand. But gay’s fine with me, I like everybody. In fact, there’s something I've always wondered about but I never had anybody to ask. You know that expression ‘the whole nine yards.’ It's gay, right? Does it have something to do with those fancy dresses drag queens wear?” “I hate to disappoint you, Ji Ke, but according to my father, the expression came from the First World War. The biplanes could only hold nine yards of bullets for their machine guns. Once the pilot shot the whole nine yards, he had to go back to the field for more. In a dog fight, nine yards of bullets could go in a minute or two.” “Maybe I need some kind of gay studies class,” said Xing. Then he fell silent, lost in his own thoughts. After a moment, he said, “My family has arranged a marriage for me that I don’t want. Besides, there are these two beauti ful ladies I regularly sleep with, plus other women I often find along the way. I really don’t want to give up my free dom for just one female. By the way, if you hunted with a dog you wouldn’t mis take people for birds.” “Thanks for the advice, but my dog recently died. He was special. I haven’t had the time or inclination to get another one. My dad recently died too. He always had hunting dogs, and in a pinch I S3

could borrow one of his, but my mom got nd of them when he passed." “Shit, Bo, you are one unlucky dude. Your friend died, your dog diet!, ami your tather died. Tell you what, our Labrador retriever just whelped a litter and 1 could give you a pup. And maybe there's something you could do for me in return. Something I’m a little curious about.” “And what is it you want me to do, Ji?” “Well, I'm really straight, you know, engaged to be married, regular girl friends. Really straight.” “Yeah, you told me before. 1 don’t doubt you one bit. You’re straight, and I’m gay, and what is it you want me to do?” Xing Ji Ke blushed and said, “You know, this is a little embarrassing. For some reason I feel very comfortable with you — even though you almost killed me back there. Well, here goes. I’ve read in a few different places that if a man wants to be an exceptional lover of women, he should get fucked at least once. So he fully understands what the woman is experiencing when he’s screwing her.” “So if 1 screw you I get a puppy?” “Yeah, basically. But also 1 like you. We’ve only known each other for a little while, but 1 really like you.” “Ji, I'm not a stud for a fee. When I have sex, I want the whole nine yards. Lots of affection, deep kissing, licking, biting and sucking, with both of us naked. And both of us getting off. You think you can handle all that?” “Qi, if that’s what turns you on, I’ll do it.” “What if you like it, Ke? What if you really dig taking it up the ass?” “I’ve thought about that. They say that if you do it with a man you'll never go back to women. That’s very unlikely for me. In any case, once I give my father a grandson, I plan on reclaiming my freedom. Life's too short. If you turn me queer, I’ll deal with it. Like I told you, Qi, I like everybody and I real ly enjoy sex. And don’t worry, I want it to be fun for both of us. You'll stop it it hurts, won’t you?” “Do I still get the puppy?” Peter Melillo was born in Connecticut, moved to Arizona at an early age, and then to New York, after completing a masters degree.

Loye aid Sba.de

L IT II A. I call him JC Mr. S uperstar, not j us t b ec a u s e o f his Z ef e re ll i eyes and long hai r and B i rk e n s t o c k s , and not b ec a u s e every time I see him I e xh a le j e s u s - c h r i s t (and not like a p ra yer ). B eca us e s ee ing him br eaks me and puts me back t o g et h er . I t ’s f a e r i e - s o l s t i c e at the s a nc tu a ry and I ’m the only boy still we ari ng a shi rt and t h a t ’s fine by me. I ’m s w e a t i n g t hi ck l y, t ho ug h, and s m o k i n g a j o i n t . Sara says “ O ve r t h e r e ” so I look and i t ’s Jesus Ch ri s t Mr. S u p e r s t a r s pi n ni n g at the c e n t e r o f the drum ci rc le and his blue gauzy skirt wraps i t s el f a r o u nd his legs like wind ar o un d t rees. H e ’s got s t ra ng e black hai r t h a t ’s t wi st ed s n ak e l o n g and 1 think Here It Goes Ag ai n as my s t o m ach d ev ou rs i t s el f and my eyes

fa Stella-Na-Gicr

go st icky and numb. “ At l eas t go danc e n ea r h i m , ” Sara tells me. I l augh, and light a W i ns t on . “So sit t h e r e , ” she says, a dd i ng , “ P u s s y . ” I ’m t r yi n g to look sexy and q u ee r and na tu ra l . Two f a er ie boys b e si d e me are g r i n d ing a g a i n s t one a n o t h e r so t hei r faces are s m ea r e d. One has dredlocks t w i s te d up like a n t l er s, and the o t h er has long b l o n de hair and s w e a t y - s m o o t h skin. I ' m s i g h in g like hea vi ng: “ I feel ugly today.” “ D o n ’t we a l l , ” grunts Sara. I look over at the boys and rais e an e y e b r o w . “O k a y , ” she c o n c e d e s , “ m aybe not all o f u s . ” She s mi le s and pats my knee. “ Raven is h a n d i n g out m u s h rooms by the w a t e r . ” “ D o n ’t let me near p s y c h e d e l i c s when I ’m f e el i ng this

d e s p e r a t e . ” 1 set t le back next to S a r a ’s gangl y body and f a n n i n g gr e en dre ss, t r y i n g to focus on a n y t h i n g but the sex show b es i de us. “ I ’m t oo h ungr y for Face. Gods , I ’m in no mood for visions.” Sara l a u n ch e s into a st ory, and I t hi nk i t ’s a bout her e x - b o y f r i e n d , but I ’m j u s t l i s t e n ing to the musi c in her voi ce. The s tory see ms to be all h e t e r o sex and m a r r i a g e and m o re shit t h a t ’s not a b o u t me. I ’m s a yi n g “ R ight on S i s t e r , ” when what I ’m t h i n k i n g is “ I bet Mr. S u p e r s t a r has a t o n g ue like a r i v e r . ” So I sit and try to be s p i r i tual; t h a t ’s why all t h es e p eop le are here, r i gh t ? So I b r e a t h e in t h r o u g h my c oc c y x and v i s u a l i z e my c h a k r a s s p i n n i n g like F ie st awa re pl at es and the whi te light

p i er c i n g my c r o w n like a n ee d le t h ro ug h wa te r, all of t hes e t rut hs d e s i g n e d to c o l d - s h o w e r my soul into s o b er l u s t l e s s n e s s . None o f this is w or k i n g . I still feel like this g a t h er ing is one big h i ppi e p ee p s h o w . Raven is s t a n d i n g by the water, has been h u g g i n g this n aked l o n g h a i r for what see ms like days . My b r e a t h i n g is f i n a l ly s t a rt i ng to sl ow. The boys b es i de me seem d on e with each ot her, s l e e p i n g s e p a ra t e sl eeps at the edges o f t hei r quilt. My back feels hot and I k now i t ’s J e su s t here. Kn e e l i n g b eh i nd me, h e ’s s m i li n g , I can tell. I s wi v el to face him. H e ’s r ol l in g a c i g a r e t t e , eyes fl as h up at mi ne, he say s, “ Mi nd if I s m o k e wi th y o u ? ” My m o u t h goes dry and st up id , and I m u t t e r “ Oh pl eas e d o ” and I feel like an ol d h o o d o o doll of my sel f, his smi le like a pin d e s i g n e d to sl ide into my v e l v e t e e n head. His bl ue eyes a g a i n s t dark w a t e r s m o o t h skin. A h emp c h o k e r s t u d d ed wi th lapis lazul i. H e ’s t al ki ng a b ou t h e r b a l ism and h e ' s g r i n n i n g and the skin b et w e e n his e ye s, first i t ’s p i nc h e d in c o n c e n t r a t i o n or m a y b e l a u g h t e r and I keep s t a r ing until i t ’s t w i st i n g i t s e l f into a spot o f col or , this we ir d blue light that u nf ol d s l o t u s - l i k e and spi ts c o b a l t s p ar k s, then fl ame s to v i ol et and t h e r e ' s t hi n s mo k e and c o o l i n g till t h e r e ’s an a m e t h y s t s u s p e n d e d there and I can fi nal l y see his eye s again. T h e y ’re e ve n bl uer , and f ix ed on mi ne, and s u d d en l y my mou th falls o pen into: “ N o ! ” ( b r e a t h e ) “ Y o u ’re K r i s h n a . ” H e ’s s it ti ng in fr ont o f me and h e ’s do ing n o t h i n g but b r e a t h i n g . He puts his han d on my arm. His eyes are gl ass

r e fl e c t i n g water. His a me t h ys t is s p i n ni n g and he says the word “ B ea u t i f u l . " He leans in and ki sses me. On the mou th.

1 groan. “ As soon as it cool s off, Mary." She looks at me s i del ong and grins. “ Is it ever gonna be cool e no ugh. Hone y?"

LUGHNASADH. I ' m itchy with a g o r a p h o bia, p e e r i n g t h ro ug h the slats in my w i n d o w - b l i n d s like some cr a zy p r o ph e t. I ' m t er r i f i e d of the heat t here. I ’m s et t li ng like silt i nt o my bl ack vi nyl chair , p u l l in g my gl as s of iced tea a c r os s my f or e h e a d , l et ting its s wea t cool my own . I take a n o t h er drag o f f my pi pe, so now I ' m a li tt le too s t o n ed for my own good. And the box fan dips down in pi tch, makes the f lo o r b o a r d s m oa n and the sun is j e l l y i n g d own my wall and i s n ’t b ri n gi n g a n y t h i n g I h a v e n ' t seen b ef o re . L a n g u i s h i n g Aug us t shit that pr o mi s e s a m on t h of b o r e dom and a/c and b ei ng a little too s t oned. Mary c om es over, d r i p p i n g and s t e a m i n g in an u n s e a s o n a l bl ack dress. “ I defy the f uc k i n g s u n ! ” she tells me with a m a r t y r - c r a z y grin. She sits, sips my tea, and bi t che s abo ut the w e a t he r, takes out her Tar ot deck and fans them across my f l o o r b o a r d s , asks me, “Want an u p d a t e ? ” She pul l s a Cel tic cr os s s p re a d. My s i g n i f i c a t o r is the Ace o f Wa nd s, c r o s s e d by the Death card, and Mary is s mi li ng s t ra n g e l y . “ I t ’s gon na be an i n t e r e s t i n g cy cl e, S u g a r . ” D e a t h ’s got an open mou th in his red belly. H e ’s s i n gi n g s o m e t h i n g g l or iou s, Mary tells me, like the Al lel ui a c h o r us or A B B A ’s “ Danci ng Q u e e n ” ( “Take you r p i c k , ” she tells me). “ And the Ace of W a n d s , ” she says, “ is the birth of new e ne r gy. Expl o- si on of light. Y o u ’re y el l ing ‘I A M ’.” She dri nks from my tea. “ Y o u ’ve got to get out o f this a p a r t m e n t . ” 95

MABON. I ' v e gone up to S a r a ’s land in S pr in gv i ll e. A group of us at Equi no x and e v e r y t h i n g ’s goi ng br owne r, and more calm. And I need to be high and s h a d ed and fa mi l iar. T h e r e ' s a fire ci rc l ed by ab out fi ft ee n old friends o f mi ne wi l l o w i n g ac r os s each o t h er like muddy leaves. C h ar li e, S a r a ’s b o y fr ie n d, is hol di ng up the most a m b i t i o u s j o i nt I ’ve eve r seen, more of a wand than a j o i n t, like a c o l o r e d - p e n c i l fantasy from the back page of High Times. F a b ul o us . Mary has been feedi ng e ve r y o n e m us h r o o m s , c r umbl y dry ones left o v er from s pri ng h ar v es t s. I gobbl ed some down by the handf ul and now I ’m wa it i ng for bl iss, my legs cu rl ed u nde r me, s ag gi ng a ga ins t M a r y ’s soft body. I feel heavy, and quiet. “ H o n e y , ” she says, “ fe el i ng di vi ne y e t ? ” “ I t hink so. Who can tell anymore?" The j o int is on its third loop ar ou nd. I t ’s not very good weed, real ly, h o m eg ro w n l eaf tips or some such ro u gh a ge , not that an yone cares at all. But my skin is st art i ng to crawl softly ac ro ss my sleepy bones. C h ar l i e in the fi re li ght r e mi n ds me o f the faerie JC Mr. S uper st ar . The gaunt face and hands and the l i g h t ’s all hol low and I am h u n gry to be t ouched. On the cr ee kb a nk at m i d ni ght , my toes are l e n g t h e n i n g to tree root s, di ggi ng down and f u r ther down. Gl ow w o r m s — that I

h a d n ’t even k no wn a c tu a l ly e x i s t e d — are laid out and w r i g g li ng ag a in s t the black sand. C h a r l i e ’s s l i p p in g o f f his c l o t h e s , p u l l in g the r u b b e r band out o f his t a n gl e d hair. H e ’s b e a u t i f u l the way t o n i g h t is b e a u t i f u l , and 1 wish that I cou ld j u s t t o uc h his s h o u l d e r . I ’m s t a n d i n g her e on my l i ch e n - l e g s a l o ne in this m o o n l i g h t , my skin r o i l i n g and dark and I know he c a n ’t see me, not real ly. The ma rr o w in my s pi ne is s t a r t i n g to dry out, like sand s m o o t h i n g my b a c k b o n e from the i ns ide. I ’m y aw n i n g but i t ’s u pw a r d and I ’m b ri n gi n g all that bl ack sky d own into my skin. I ’m the axi s o f the worl d, b et w e e n a bo v e and bel ow. Near dawn in a h a m m o c k I feel l ike a m ud dy c oc c oo n t h a t ’s wa it i ng for n o t h i ng s p e c i f ic. The m u s h r o o m s and the e v e r y t h i n g el se are p ou ri n g t hr ou gh me in b e a u ti f ul r iv ul et s to the g r ou n d. I d o n ’t need any more sexy d ei t ies . My skin is moi st and g l o ri o us en ou gh .

SAMHAI N. Ri ding to the F a e r i e revel at the s a nc tu a ry for A l l - H a l l o w s , or S a m ha in , a word I avoi d ( h o w e v e r I p r o n o u n c e it, it a lwa y s s ou nd s wro ng) . I ’ll say it t on i gh t; I ’m d e s p e r a t e to d i s t ance from the H a l l o w e e n s I was han de d g ro w i n g up, the John Carpenter-flavored trick-or-treat ing that was fun but c e r t ai n ly n ot hi ng to mark t ime by. House e g g , n g s and m y th ic r a z o r - b l a d e appl es . The only thrill I e ve r got was from al wa ys f i ndi ng a way to work in s ome drag. I r e m e m ber at t hi rt ee n d r e s s i n g up as a wi tch, a d a ma n t l y n of - W a r l o c k , l ovi ng my fl oppy and f a bu lo us bl ack hat. My n e i g h b o r Mrs. W h e el e r had her huge pl ast ic c a u l d r o n out, ladl ing red Kool-

Aid like a goth Jim J on es . My p o l y e s t e r frock felt satin, felt d a n g e r o u s , and it b i l lo we d a r o u nd me. I w a s n ’t we ari ng u n d e r w e a r and I was a Wi tch. I ’ve got my wi ndows do wn so the cool air can gri p me with that t ic kl in g i nt en si ty dee p aut u mn bri ngs . The i n t e r i o r li ght is on so I can cr an e my neck and fi ni sh m a ke - up in the r e a r - v i e w mi rr or , blue l ines t rac ing r une s ac ros s my s i l v e r - p a i n t e d face. I have a long c o ba lt robe and t i n sel in my hair; t o n i gh t I am the Star C ar d and I am b e a u t i f u l . I ’m a f uc ki ng a r c h e t y p e . In the woo ds , t o w ar d s Sab bat . T h er e are s c a rl et r i b b o n s tied to the low, hea v y b r a n c h e s . The way t h e y ’re w a vi ng me f o r ward, and w e a v i n g into the b re e ze , I ’m t h i n k i n g of Y ou ng G o o d m a n Brown only I ’m d a n c ing and l a u g h i n g a lo ud . I hear d ru ms and s in gi n g. Th er e are a bout t hi rt y of us d a n c i n g t here in the c le a r i n g . I see him first as part o f the fire, then h e ’s a p a r a ll el fire wi th its own heat and j o y. A r i v e r of n ames pours out o f me: J e s u s Christ, K r is h na , S ai n t J o hn the Divine. H e ’s na ke d and s l a t h e r e d with mud and his h ai r is s c ul p t e d up i nto c e r a m i c - l o o k i n g horns . I d o n ’t know what to do, so I j u s t st art t wi rl i ng. My f rock is s w i rl i ng a r o u n d me like a wi nds pun bell. My eyes are f ixed into the sky. The love I feel is v o r a ci ous . No l onger w hi r l i n g , I ’m j u s t s t a g g e r i n g a r o u n d the fire like I ’m dr unk. T h e r e ’s a warm hand on my s h o u l d e r and bef ore I turn a r o u n d my whol e body kn ows i t ’s him. His m ou t h is next to my ear, his b r e at h l ike a h u r r i c a n e , and he tells me, “T o n i g h t I ’m P a n . ” Ki ss ing him is its own 56

g a t h e r i n g t o g e t h e r . His hand at the s mal l of my bac k. My fi ng er s at his neck, s t u b b o r n l y r u b bi n g away the mud to get d own to his ski n. My mout h is a pr ayer . My hand d own his back is like s m o o t h i n g cl ot h, and the c ur ve of his hip is a ps al m I ’m s in gi n g back to him: w e ’ve a l w a y s been h e r e , y o u ' v e a l w a y s a d o r e d me, w e ’ll a l w a y s be here. Whe n w e ’re lying in the l eave s and our b o d i e s are t o g e t h er I h e a r the t rees a r o u n d us q u a k i n g wi th j o y . He says the word “a n c e s t o r s ” li ke h e ' s a n s w e r i n g a q u e s t i o n . Even as I ’m l yi ng still I can feel my skin cr awl ac r os s his and as I s qu in t my eyes t ig ht ly , s mal l gr e en sh oot s are g r o w i n g out o f t hem, and t h r o u g h my n os t ri l s and ears. My f inge r s at his neck and hip are vi ne s that s p r e a d into b r oa d , wet l eaves. T h e r e ’s a name for t his, as I c o v e r and c o n s u m e hi m; i t ’ s k ud z u I ’m b e c o m i n g , and the vi nes c ir c l e him and dig d own into the dirt. The vi nes are t u r n ing to root s as my l eaves lick his dar k e y e li d s . The gr e en s h oo ts are s nake s that b u r r o w away from me, all t h es e l ea ve s now s t ar t i n g to fall away l ike dead t hi ngs and all that is left is my bod y, new and c lea n and s t r e t c h e d a c r os s his. He says that word “ B e a u t i f u l . ” My face fits into the h o l low o f his neck, and I want to s leep i n s id e that cur ve. T o m o r r o w w e ’ll be s l o u c h i n g back to s e p a r a t e st at es in s e p a rate cars, in the m i g r a i n e - b r i g h t ness o f All S a i n t s ’ Day. My h an d on his che st m e a s u r e s his b re a t h s wi th gri ef: w e ’ve a l w a ys bee n here, I ’ve a l w a y s ......a d o r e d you, w e ’ll a l w a ys be here. Stella-Na-Giggroveled to let us accept his story, which was a day late and we’re happy he did (grovel, that is). He lives in Tennessee, curiously on a street named Stonewall.

( i R F F ] l 'W [ l

®FO io t t u jz k h

'n Thompson Porul Nature Preserve, April 21, 1999

“It’s cold as a witches tit,” the old man whispers to his wife. She elbows him in his side and says “ssshhh.” A patina of frost covers the ground. The trees are bare. Crows caw and swoop down the slope of Stissing Mountain. “The crows are here all year, of course,” says a woman in a red stocking cap. She has rosy cheeks and clouds of breath puff from her mouth as she speaks. The frost crackles under her boots as she shifts her weight. “But soon the warblers will arrive. Thirty species of warblers, give or take a few, are regularly seen here at Thompson Pond in the Spring. A pair of golden eagles nest here, and of course we have waterfowl and marsh birds galore. The Hudson Valley is a bird watcher’s paradise.” The old man shivers. “Goddamn it’s cold.” A man standing at the front of the group sneezes and then presses his fin ger on the side of his nose; he shoots snot rockets to the ground. “Oh for Christ’s sake,” mutters his wife. “Okay group, let’s continue on our

way. Have your binoculars ready.” Patches of ice on Thompson Pond glint in the noon sun. A few Canada geese sit on the edges of the flows, preening; others are paddling in the open water, dipping their heads in, feed ing. One rises up and beats its wings against the water. Chickadee-dee-dee, chickadee-deedee-dee. A troop of chickadees frolics in the hemlocks. A white-breasted nuthatch spirals down a trunk and says “hank, hank.” “Listen,” a woman says. “What a queer bird.” The old man cups his ear and hears it: a sensual moaning, airy and delirious, coming from somewhere in the shadows of the hemlocks. “What in tarnation is that?” he asks his wife. She shakes her head. The group leader stixips down and ducks beneath a hemlock branch. Her red stocking cap catches on the branch and swings off her head. She dusts the frost and mud off her cap and crouches, moving slowly into the woods. Ooooohhh, mmmmmm, aaaaahhh hh. The inaoning is nuxith and orgas mic, puctuated by sharp u h ’s, and now a S7

soft thumping. q The group fans out and moves through the woods. Some look through their binoculars, scanning the trees and forest floor. The old man whispers to his wife, “What the hell is that?” The thumping is louder now. “Is that heavy breathing?” someone asks. Yeah, oh yeah. “My God, it’s human,” the old lady says. Yeah, yeah, OH YEAH. The group stops cold at the edge of a gully. A young man is naked, on his back, spread-eagled like a snow angel in the frost. He pumps his hard cock with his right hand; his left hand is some where up his asshole. Oh yeah!!! The group leader’s mouth is agajK*. her jaw dropped. The old man l<x>ks away. “1 told her I didn’t want to come on this damn hike.” The old woman stares, wide-eyed. The young man writhes, his abdom inal muscles ripple. His skin is flushed red. He throws his head back and moans. His body spasms. Aaaahhh. He sprays cum over his abdomen and chest; some lands on his cheeks and forehead. He buckles and convulses. He breaths out a deep sigh. He swirls his

fingers through the cum on his chest and licks his fingers. “Ehem,” the old man coughs. The boy opens his eyes. He looks around through half-closed eye-lids, still breathing heavily. His skin is bright red, glowing like the cardinal that has landed in the hemlock overhead. “Wow,” he says groggily. “Omigod!” He jumps up, covering his still erect penis with his hands. Cum drips down his face, down his chest and belly, and dams up against his hands. The imprint of his body is burned into the frost. A woman pinches the group leader. “Shouldn’t we be going?” she whispers. The group leader stares at the boy, her cheeks glowing red. “Ahy, yes,” and her voice rises as she looks around at the group, “we’ll be going now.” She waves to the boy. “Um, so long. More birds to watch.” The boy waves back, looks sheep ishly around the circle. The group walks back through the hemlocks to the path. “Damnedest thing I ever did see,” says the old man. “Good Lord,” says his wife, “I know that boy. He’s in high school. I know his mother.” “ Let’s look for some tufted tit mice,” says the group leader, “there must be some around here somewhere.” Pine Plains, June 12, 1999 That's a first. 1 have never, never in my life been caught jerking off by a birdwatcher’s club. I mean, old ladies in tennis shoes? My God. I’ve jerked off in lots of places. In fact, I’m getting so bored sitting here in this fucking office 1 think I’ll go jack off in the bathroom right now. Fuck it, I’ll wait ‘till after I see the shrink. My Mother, well-meaning but hor ribly misguided, insisted that I come here to this sterile office that smells like toxic carpet to find out what’s wrong with me, as if there could be anything wrong with making love with the Earth. It’s true, this was only the latest inci dent. A woman caught me fucking a bed of moss up on Stissing Mountain. I mean, why she was walking so far off the path I’ll never know. And there was that time my camp counselor found me with a phallic stone up my ass; the guy walked up on me right when 1 was squatting over the rock, pumping my ass up and down. Maybe 1moaned too loud

ly* 1 admit it: Pm a romantic at heart. I like to twirl daisies and skip through

meadows. I make passes at trees and animals, I blow kisses to clouds, I come on to mountains and streams. It’s like this: I haven’t been the same since the day 1 heard flowers singing. I picked some daisies for a vase in my room. It was innocent enough. I mean, it’s a little faggy, I know, but I like flowers in my room. I was eight years old. After I put the daisies in the vase, they started singing. I distinctly heard them. They have very high voices, and they were singing in harmony. They swayed as they sang, as though dancing in a gentle breeze. I put my ear closer. I shtxik my head and rubbed my eyes. I stepped back and listened. I started to cry. The song was a love song, and the daisies were singing to me. There were no words but somehow 1 knew their meaning, I felt the questing in their voices. 1 leaned over and kissed them. Their pollen dusted my lip like a moustache. I was never the same. At recess when other kids were playing kickball or fighting, I would sit in the grass and look at dandelions, I would watch how honeybees tongued the flowers, how the flowers trembled and grasped the bee legs, almost begging for more. During class I would stare out the window and listen to the wind howling in ecstasy, I would watch the sky drop fingers of rain to stroke his lover the Earth, or the sun light and shadows rolling around togeth er on beds of grass. So flowers sing to me. They tell me to make love with the earth. And now I’m sitting here in some office waiting to talk to some shrink. What do I tell the guy? “Look, I’m homy.” That’s what I’ll say. “I’m a fucking teenager.” My poor mother. People in town are talking about me, apparently. Who gives a flying fuck anyway?

This is how I remember it: It was summer. When I glanced around the tree I could see the fire tower on Stissing Mountain. The girders shined in the sun. The glare was so bright my eyes watered. “Keep fucking!” I clutched the tree with my fingers, I pumped my hips and slid my stiff cock into the tree hole. Jehiel and I had been doing this for years. The summer when I heard flowers singing, when I was eight, was when he first asked me to come into the woods 58

with him. He had lined a hole in a tree trunk with moss. He pulled down his pants and started fucking the tree. “This is how babies are made,” he said. “My turn.” Jehiel grabbed me around the hips and moved me away from the tree. His cock was hard, beau tiful, and he had black pubic hair. I wanted so much to be that tree. I remember thinking that. He was fifteen then, I was thirteen. He slid his cock into the hole. “That cunt, oh that cunt,” I heard him moan. I saw the sunlight on his sweaty back, the way his ass cheeks clenched when he pushed into the tree. I heard him breathing hard, I saw his muscles ripple. “Now you,” Jehiel said, and he pushed me back toward the tree. “Fuck that cunt.” When I looked around the tree I could see the ballfields below. I had a junior league game there later that day. I saw Stissing Lake spotted with boats, and the beach crowded with people. “Fuck that cunt Evritt, fuck it!” I pumped as hard as I could. I could feel Jehiel watching me, jerking off behind me. I turned to watch him. “Keep fucking Evritt!” “I can’t cum,” I yelled. “I can’t do it.” “You’re not too young to shoot it Evritt! Fuck it Evritt, fuck it!” I clutched the tree and pressed my face against the grainy bark. My eyes swelled with tears. “Holy fuck!” Jehiel screamed. 1 turned and saw his chest heave. Jets of cum shot from his cock, splattered onto the forest floor like spilled paint. I kept fucking the tree. I looked up and saw branches and leaves shaking violently, rocking in rhythm with my thrusts. I could swear the tree was shud dering, quivering in ecstasy as I fucked it. And then I heard it, indistinctly at first, like through a drunken fog. It rus tled like leaves. Come to me, Evritt. I turned and looked at Jehiel. His eyes were closed and he was breathing heavily. Then I heard the voice more distinctly, through the pounding in my heart and the tingling in my cock. The voice unfolded inside me, like a flower opening. My son, my lover! Come to me Evritt! Sweat poured off my chin and ran down my chest in rivulets. My balls slapped against the trunk with each thrust of my hips. You are my lover! Come to me,

Evntt! Come to me! And then I knew. Nothing would ever be the same again. I felt a rising surge from somewhere deep within me. I felt a fire in my cock and balls, a sweet tingle and pash, a rash and hot coursing flow, a burning and expanding. I inhaled and held my breath. 1 felt an expecta tion, a pregnant pause, a stillness, full and heavy, like the quiet before a storm. Colors tumbled in my head like a cas cading kaleidoscope. My eyelids flut tered. My breath caught in my throat, wrapped around itself like a knot. I felt the first pulse gush through my piss slit, hot like fire. I jerked my head back, and then forward again. All the muscles in my body contracted, tightened, and I jerked forward into the hole as another pulse spurted through my cockhead. I looked up into the branches as a dove descended from the sky. ooah, cooo, cooo, coo. I shot again, and again. My fingers dug into the tree. I heard a voice rise up from the ground like a vine; it crawled up my legs and wrapped around iny chest and face. You are my Son, with whom I am well pleased. A spasm wracked my body and I exhaled deeply. 1 felt the moss wet around my cock. I heard clapping. I turned and was startled to see Jehiel. He was smiling broadly. “Welcome to the club, Evritt.” I ran my fingers over the bark of the tree and pulled my cock from the hole. “Come sit down Evritt.” Jehiel pat ted the ground. I sat down and he tou sled my hair. His cock was smeared with cum, still half erect. I looked at my own cock, still pulsing, bobbing like a fishing pole. I swirled my fingers in my cum and raised my fingers to my eyes. The cum stretched like taffy between my fin gers. “Cum, “ I said. “Cum,” and he laughed.

When 1 get out of this fucking office I've got a date with the Greenman. The Greenman, that’s a goixl one. The shrink won’t believe that one. Nobody understands. Not even Jehiel. He’s got a girlfriend now, almost mar ried I think. We stopped playing togeth er soon after I came for the first time. He got caught up being a high schixrl stud. I’m so alone in this world sometimes 1 think I’ll end it. Fuck, maybe I do need to be sitting here in this office after all.

But the Greenman and me, we’re buds. It’s the Greenman who sings to me in the flowers, who whispers to me through the trees. He is the Earth’s son and lover. Father Nature. And 1 am his son and lover. He told me so. When I'm done with this appoint ment I'll go deep into the woods. I'll strip naked and let the Earth tickle me. I’ll let the Greenman enter me, touch me inside my secret places. I'll enter him. fondle him, kiss him, stroke him. And it always happens: he sprays cum like rain, and life itself is bom. That's the way it is. I don't give a shit what the shrink thinks. Thompson Pond March 21,1999

Nature

Preserve,

Thimbles of grass poke from the swamp like the crowns of heads, like so many groundhogs coming up for a look. Puddles and pools are covered with thin crusts of ice, sculpted and dusted like frosted glass, crackling and shattering in the morning sun. The body heat of skunk cabbage has burned dimples in the frost. The Greenman rises from the muck of the swamp. He uncoils like a fiddlehead fem. He stands and raises his amis toward the sky, stretching. He yawns. He is speckled with moss and twined in twigs. Leaves are pressed to him like sweaty sheets. His small body is lean, nubile. He wipes the soil from his eyes and yawns again. He peels leaves away, revealing his skin, smooth, soft, brown, but with a strange green glow like corroded brass. His hair is brown, with a greenish tint, and downy. Frost retreats in an expanding circle from his feet, melting into glistening droplets. And now the frost seems to mn like a frightened animal, cowering in the shadows of rocks, under tangles of growth and on the far sides of trees. Sheets of ice melt and recede like burn ing sheets of paper. A warm and damp mist rises from the swamp, looping and curling around branches, settling on this neck of the wtxxls like a lover’s hot panting breath. Droplets of melted snow anti frost drip from the trees. The Greenman stands in the center of a melted island in the frost. He steps forward. As he lifts his feet, pale green sprouts burgeon in his footprints. He spreads his arms wide and screeches, a high-pitched squeal like a child. He strokes the trunk of a young sugar maple. The maple quivers. He senses a throbbing in the rixrts, a trem bling pressure and rising. He feels the S9

dilation of vesicles in the wtxxl, the wet ness of sap and juice, the fhxxhng of sensation and the coursing of green blood. He strokes the trunk with both hands. He teels breath exhaled through lenticels in the bark, hears a soft moan ing in the boughs overhead. A pulse, like water through a hose, passes through his hands. The tree sways. Buds burst through the tips of branches. The Greenman giggles. Pine Plains, June 12, 1999 The secretary, or the nurse, or wher ever the hell she is, just came by to tell me I'm next. I can’t fucking wait. Here's what I'll tell the shrink. “So, you seem to like to masturbate in, shall we say, unusual places.” “I can't help it Doc, l hear voices, see, voices in my head. The rain speaks to me, the patter anti plop presses on leaves like typewriter keys. The thoughts of the Earth are printed out in the rain. The wind whispers seductively or howls like wild, depending on it’s mood. You hear that, don’t you? The birds trace cursive script as they fly, as they undulate and loop and curl track on themselves. The crickets and katydids and cicadas chant all night long like monks.” “Yes, but, uni, we were discussing masturbation...” “All those voices Doc, those voices. They all say the same thing.” The nurse calls my name. My moth er takes my hand and we walk down the hall and thnrugh a large wtxxlen d<xrr. And now I am afraid. All those voices, all those voices. Make love, they say. Make love. Is that fucked up, or what? O God, 1 am not insane. Tell me I am not insane. I sit down in a chair in front of the desk and my mother sits next Ur me. The psychiatrist opens a file and ruffles some paper. He has a potted plant on his desk. I hear it singing. “So Evritt, let’s get aqua inted, shall we?” he says. Now it is time. Evntt, come to me! “Pleased to meet you,” I say. “I am a Greenman, a strn and lover of the Earth.”

Micky Ruzich currently lives in Hawaii and is writing a novel, which he hopes to publish next year. Its working title is the same as this short story, Greenman Comes.

Janies Broughton, one of the great and long-standing lights of unequivocal erotic celebration, died in Port Townsend, Washington, on May 17th. His Ixxly was 85 years old, his ecstatic wisdom about the same. His spir it was something akin to an everlasting 17. Broughton lived most of his life in and around San Francisco. He was an unrelenting, uncompromising, and unapologetic apostle of the healing won der of joy and ecstasy. He wrote some twenty books, most notably Ecstasies, Graffiti fo r the Johns o f Heaven, Hymns to Henries, and High Kukus (books of his poetry), and Corning Unbuttoned, his prose memoir. He also produced almost as many films -- short, zany, often delightfully absurd journeys into worlds of playful amusement and personal remi niscence. "His principal hobby," it states simply in the biographical note at the end of Ecstasies, "is the care and feeding of ecstasy." In the note at the end of Graffiti fo r the Johns o f Heaven, he describes himself as "a lifelong supporter of angels, faeries, muses, cupids, holy ghosts, and all such winged presences. As for earthly matters, I remain a con firmed believer in the amatory, the hilarious, and the unmentionable." Broughton apparently truly believed in angels. In his memoir, he recalls that "one night when I was three years old I was awakened by a glitter ing stranger who told me 1 was a poet and always would be and never to fear being alone or being laughed at." He took both the experience with "his angel" and the advice to heart.

When I sent what I now under stand to be my very amateur solicitation letter, James immediately sent back copies of Ecstasies and Graffiti for the Johns o f Heaven "You are free to use any of the poems in these lxx>ks," he generously offered, even though he knew nothing about me and I had no money to offer for reprinting his poetry. Reading James's poems was like discovering a geyser after wandering thirstily for months in the desert. Here was the sense of celebration I had been ajc jfc sfc sfc looking for, in apparently infinite abun dance. I was delighted and charmed by I first became aware of James his absolute reverence for the erotic and Broughton in 1987, when I was collect sexual human Ixxly in all its forms and ing material for an anthology of erotic expressions, by his love of language, and poetry, |>rose, and photography, Erotic by by his completely irrepressible joy and Nature. The lxx>k was subtitled "a cele playfulness. Here was a man at once silly and profound, spiritual and lusty, experi bration of life, of love, and of our won enced and inntx;ent. His utter delight at derful bodies," but at a time when con being fully alive, and his clear under cern about AIDS was sweeping through gay culture, I was having trouble finding standing of the transcendent potential of the Ixxly and its sexual urges, were noth gay male writing with the celebratory ing short of inspirational. tone I wanted the book to have. Another Dozens of poems jumped out at gay poet, Paul Mariah, suggested I get in and into me as I read them. I chose two touch with James, who was then living in in particular that seemed to fit the spirit Mill Valley. 1 had no idea that he was a of my book, but I could easily have chtx major luminary of gay culture, and of sen two or twelve others. At Beck’s Motel San Francisco’s literary, indejxrndent on the 7th of April conveyed the depth of experience that is possible when we sur film, and art worlds. 60

D avid Steinberg

render ourselves entirely to sex. Although I didn’t know it then, the jxxmi was written when Broughton, at the age of 61, had just found (or, more accurately, been found by) the love of his life, Joel Singer. Singer, a student in one of Broughton’s classes, swept James up and out of his married, suburban life, and became his lover, partner, collaborator, devotee, and soulmate until he died. At Beck’s Motel on the 7th of April we went to bed for three days disheveled the king size sheets never changed the Do Not Disturb ate only the fruits of discovery drank semen and laughter and sweat. He sweetened my mouth sweetened my neck coddled my nipple nuzzled my belly roomed my groin uffed my buttock garnished my pubis renovated my phallus remodeled all my torso until I cried out until I cried I am Yes I am your Yes I am I am your Yes Yes Yes

poems. He preached the triumph of life, The other poem I selected was a sex. spontaneity, and creativity over death, repression, ami what passes for different matter altogether -- a playful, normalcy. "I've never been afraid of even silly, ode to pleasure, fun prtvlosing my beautiful neurosis as the claimed entirely for fun's sake, and for source of my poetry." he proclaimed the appealing mouthfeel of the rhythmic and. indeed, he never did. spoken word: James sang the song of the Nipples and cocks Ixxly, electric and unapologetically sexu nipples and cocks al. in all its beauty ami strength. He often N othing tickles the palate like spoke of his affinity to Walt Whitman. nipples and cocks His faith in the wisdom and transcendent Lose your appetite for potential of the erotic was unequivocal, clippers and clocks his reverence for the wonder of sex and by trying a tipple of the physical body unbounded. "Listen to nipples and cocks your angels ripening your secrets," he preached in a poem appropriately titled U p with your T shirts "Semion." "Come to beautiful terms D own with your jocks with the god in your body, with the Tempt your taste buds with body o f your god. Share flesh with nipples and cocks others. Wake love. Make love. Clasp Don t riddle your brow hearts and exuberate, and don’t look or rot in your box back till you are far out of sight." I t ’s nice to nibble on Other poems conveyed the nipples and cocks power of lust and passion in fierce, yet N o need to be fancy reverent, terms. In Aisles of Eden, for or unorthodox example, he writes: Just try a plain diet of nipples and cocks I am into your fire I am into your fire up to my eyes Nipples and cocks Hold me to the quick nipples and cocks Hold me to the peak N othing tickles the palate like I am into your fire head on nipples and cocks I am into your fire I am into your fire with my fuel With these two poems, Heat up my smolder Broughton joined sixty other contribu Reheat my fervor tors, some famous but many unknown, in I lay my love in your fire a collection designed to celebrate "the incredible potential sex has to bring as I am into your fire deep joy, wonder, intimacy, growth, and I am into your fire over my head wisdom." When Erotic by Nature came Do me a turn Burn me to the ground out, early in 1988, I was pleased to learn I am into your fire for my life that James was delighted with the book, delighted to be part of it. "The book is ***** beautiful," he wrote. "Coffee table ticklenient! The type is rather sexy too. The notice of James's death Maybe you will connect the populace came in a small envelope stamped with to joy. Glad you are spreading erotic nature far and wide. All creatures need Joel Singer's return address. Although I had received many similar envelopes it." from James, I knew what this one was ***** going to say before I opened it. Broughton was as close to a The card inside bore a photo of pure embodiment of Pan as we are likely James looking out with soulful eyes from to come across in this modem, cynical, under a wide-brimmed white hat, while a troubled, technological time. Whatever broad, perfectly-arranged silk scarf swept life brought, he treated as a source of across his chest and over his shoulder. humor, pleasure, and physical delight, "James Broughton, November 10, 1913 even the process of dying itself. May 17, 1999," the card announced, and "Creeping decrepitude has crept me all the way to the crypt," he quipped, shortly then: "Every day I grow a dream in my before his death. "If you must feel tor garden where the beds are laid out for love. When will you come to embrace tured, respect your misery and be it and join in the joy of the dance?" happy about it," he urged in one of his 61

Memorials for James would be held in Port Townsend and m San Francisco. "Both venues have limited seating." an insert noted. "Please plan to arrive early." Hundreds of people from a dozen different artistic and sexual com munities came together at the San Francisco Art Institute on June 26th. The gathering was of course called "Celebrating Janies* -- an opportunity to celebrate the great celebrator of celebra tion itself. Copies of two of James's Ixxiks - Hooplas and Special Deliveries —were laid on the anil of every seat in the theater, a gift from Joel for each per son who had come to be part of the after noon. The stage was adorned by a huge, white bust of Dionysus posted on a long stake, as well as a podium, a harp, a cello, and a set of drums. Projected on a screen behind all the rest was a large photo of James quietly twinkling at everyone. The program began at 1:00 and continued, without a break, for four hours. ‘Hiere were many personal tributes to James —some by well-known figures like Lawrence Ferlinghetti, Michael McClure, and Lou Harrison; others by people more obscure —people speaking both reverently and humorously about their connections with him, and of how profoundly he had touched, inspired, amused, and amazed them. There was, of course, sadness and a deep sense of loss, but also much laughter, foolishness, and genuine appreciation of the quixotic nature of both life and death. Each speak er seemed to remember some exquisitely pointed aphorism of James's. " Be true to your madness throughout your life." "Everything is going beautifully nowhere." "My kundulini runneth over." "When in doubt, cut." A quartet of flute, harp, cello, and percussion played music by Lou Harrison, music that echoed James's sense of whimsy, grace, and unfettered imagination. Throughout the afternoon, a slow progression of stunning projected fH>rtraits brought James's familiar, totally unguarded, unshielded, presence vividly into the room. "Here I am." each photo graph said with quiet resonance and determination, "all of me. No shame. No blame. The only important question is how real we can be with each other and with ourselves, how ready we are to cherish and revere what it means to be fully and ecstatically alive."

br^Uers

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Gmdefcnes for Respondng to Pen Pal Ads The purpose of the pen-pal ksbng is to offer the community at large the opportunity to reieve the pari and suffem g that m ost nm ates endure. RFD assumes no responstoity for dam s made n these Brother Behnd Bars listings, and we urge at respondents to exercise caution, especially with any financial deaings. The RFD cdective has agreed to: Lim it the number of ads to inder one huncted; try to ndude photos; not repeat ads; unpublished letters will not be returned. The communication sent us world ndcate that the prisoner is gay or bisexual, and genuine n seeking correspondence as a pen-pd. We welcome responses to these policies from all readers, both prisoners and non-prisoners. ________________________

P.0. Box 8400, Florence. AZ 85232 •Dave Phefcs 94595 ■■■'■ ' '■ ■"-» W, 19. 6T, 165. Doing time, but only fa a year. Look'n lor LTP and to relocale. Serious only need reply AgwraceTocks nd importart, honesty and love a mustl It you're locking fa a hoi young slut wile soonl •C W Wheatley 46722 W, 25, 5'ST, 185. bn. bn. AJMeBc, open-hearted, aeaflve down lo earth level lookinglo th u s

P.O.Box 5248, Corcoran, Caljforrrii 93212 rJaiM Abbett K-06757 S.A.T.F. C-1-225U W. 21. Swimmers buld Seeking friendship and possi bly mom

•Stephan Browns K-15698 C-5128LSATFS.P. Locking fa someone to tafc to and share v#i. Please wte.

44750 60th ST West Lancaster. CA 9353-7619 •Bob Mvtin H-18379 B1-142 W, 45, slm. Need you heart, mind. Screenplay writer. rcAercoestss, Vegas, Some interne! help? Stephen Kind, Art Bel, Midown Station Merta Received USDOJ findng trial invalid Legal Assistance?

•ftod M br E-01274 B3-269Low ScATF-SP W, 36, 67 , 190, bn, bn, very alheMc I'm a reads of books and w its of poetry and when nd in prison I do gaphic art for various magazines arouid CA. I oddng fa friendship and correspondence.

P.O.Box 86164, Terminal Annex Los Angles. CA 90086 •K.A. Shatoazz 5752603 nCF 141B3 27, 6T , 250,shaved head, hz/bn. I love rearing writing and long taks. I'm seeking an open-minded, adventurous, sincere bend who enjoys writing and wold Bee lo gel lo know me and share ou thoughs wth one andher. Write to Kay.

P.O.Box 1050.Soledad.CA 93960-1050 •Adrian Wbcdard K-03214 28. Looking fa some pen-patslll

P.O. Box 1071 Arcadia. FL 34265-1072 •Freddie L Clemons 102580 This ad is a personal invtiation tor the purpose d Positive corresondance. You have nothing lo lose and could gain al the hap piness one deserves.

400 Tedder RD.. Century. FL 32535 •SaMaotrs Rafforw 079281 W, 56* bn, bn. Locking tor someone to write and Miars my He wth. i welcome al letters and have r>o hang<p6.

P.O.B o x 15 0 Q LC ro w C iv .Fl 32628 •MctoM Armstrong 714303 MB 417 W 39. SKT. 20C escekerl shape. Lost soul wale Bx to met and correspond w # tct*r gay men to tia n ta p c* and deems w#-and maybe nor* I'm very sincere and hope to hear fror

•FheopMn Hyvrm CB1832 B. 30,54V. 16/ l onety and loctang wr sonecne lo sonal irterest a jus! be frwntfc Honesty assured

per

•Rickey Jones 111787 Handsome black stud Soon to be rdeased fm honest kndand have a good heart, looking tor hat sweet gay babe who want to sefite down wth me

•Jeff 0 Bradford 042468 MB 318 W, 38 5V, 178 hz bn looldng tar Hr. adrertue and more faoseph L Rn w i 108523 Have or* year to release. Looks and age irtmpcrtart. 1 interest Young rfeflggrt compassionate tan-towng iraerstandng fctack ed r T6 lover rate to mel mate seekd to correspond wth txxe whom coddappredaie a moment ot taugta wth Qods touch.. Frterxfchta Is gacekiy R T .7 . Box 376» Lake Cifr. F L 32055 bestowed viha smlet <ddia Fletcher (ffftfifl B.58T 196. Seddig submissive females or TVs tar LTR Race Oavid L Moor* 5915B8 XWV, Fir-loving Capricorn 32. seeks human, humanoids, unkopcrtart, age 21-51. WManswer al big and smal.. mutants la Ifetfroe friendship adrerturous camespondance wth P.O.Box 659001. Matrn F L 33265-9001 loquadous, Imagnatrve audacious prunert, humaec •Peter Scerbno 800824/ D-1-102L xenaphMIlt W, 28 SIT, bn. br. I'm ti and looking tar a Irue pen-pal •Miguel Wtorayon 099415 Please dart prejudge me tar my present location We're al 5T, 1,-67. Locking tar atllhat we car be together human.

P.O.Box 1984. Okeechobee. F L 34373-1984 ■Cleo Colins (89126 5V, 160, br, bk Sincere, triendy, educated, freaky and kwe sex Seeking al terms of Ihe gay ife style from A-Z. So where are al the homoseocuais hidng at? Lei it be known. Write I'm waling

•Donald Perry 050031 Strakfit mar, ingenious, Idety. fervent mind L shaped 13 V2* cock, rimlabie stud Seeks opiiert gay man tar an amigo.

P.O. Box 221 Raiford. FL 32083

•kteck Clyde Richardson 111233 B, 31,5V 10 V? a t. Neerk love, have no tamtty and seeks monogamous relationship with honest, reiabie. loyal, caring, shar ing loving TVs. TS's. she-males a plus,

•David Jerome 191796 28 6T, 250, bn, bn. I’m looking tar someone that understands the tore meaning of being lonely, hn looking fa someone teat's more precious than damonds and gold Someone that wil under stand me and be wSng to give companionship. Age and race unimportant.

•Tony BulSns Ef-217063 • II W, 34, 5V, 170 bn, bn. ISO that spedal someone lo store friendship and letters with and pcssfcfy mae. Al fetters answered Pic gets Pic.

•Terry Lang 185131 28,511’, 192, bn, bk In search of doseness, total resped and understandng I need an uncondtional love that has no Imits. I've achieved the hi^rer understandng of a true and complete man in every asped of Ife, which wil nd mislead you into any form ot abuse. Carl E. Melton 063710

W, 39,5V, 160. Yalhful techies, medun buld mascdhe and but. Honed, caring aftedknde, kMng, and much enpathy. Seeks someone who can bring happress Wo my ife, who's generous, lov ing and loriey he me

P.O. Box 717 1, South Bay. FL 33493 •Charles M. Daniels 111785 28,5'4’ , 170, bn, bk. W1 write any age a race. Cmdsease free, deni use dugs smoke a dink.

P.O.Box 33a Sparta. G A 31087

•David Heard 357700-11 W, 34,5*10”, 205. ISO that spedal someone If you beieve you are the one to make me happy, take that step. Only serious repies. No games please •Christopher RovtoetS 346755 W, 22,51(T, 165,br,gi. Looking fa pen-pals. Hcpetohear from you soon! •deft Schmidt EF-384336, H2, 235 W, 40,5T , bn, hz. Fma mensa member, computer expert and writer d custom erotica on any topic a fetish you can dean. I love to cudde and snugeje and am very senscus I can be dominate if you're into agession a aoss-dessng an equal and understandng partner fa others I am loving stable and coiege educated FI share my ife, interests and history wih any serious inqdry.

P.O. Box 52. Boise. ID 83707 P.O. Box 181 Starke F L 32091 •Benjamin Alexander 0G7518 Heio woridl'm lonely and wish to be a pen-pal to anyone who writesI Thanks far caringl My time is about up and Tmin need of a friend. Please wirte!

•Kvl Valencia 52545 B-20 W/L, 21,5V, 130 bn, bn. Clean cut wth fair skin and no tattoos Fm bi and Beeto be dominate and I’m irto rde playing and lots of other tn stuffl I'm looking tar a pen-pal and a friend, so wrtelll

•Ellis Cunningham 205627 B, 38. Seeking a reaj true and honest friendship that'l correspond with me. My heart Is open. Hande with cara

Carlisle. IN 47838

•Bennie Crsntord 123716 27,5’H*, 175, muscular, energetic, alone and lone ly. ISO love and a reason to smSe. W l respond to al. •Water Danray 523715 B, 23,. Tmlooking fa a good, understandng com panion wth huma, togetherness, acfivress, pas sionate. sharing and caring. •Daniel Grant 404858 B, 38, 5'9‘, 170. ISO a hot submissive compasionale person who enjoys writing and has an open mind I enjoy rearing wiling, sports cooking and meeting real people. •Sonny Hardy 077037 .... _ » Black, top stud. Lonely and sfrx^e Determinedto associate, bekiend aid love on eqjal ferns one gay bottom wthai regards to looks, age, racea soda! starring Come enter He# for a taste of Nik Chocolate Haavenlllll

•Anthony Downs 900477 W.V.C.F. Level 4 ------ ► W, 24.5V, 165, bn, hz. Hobbies Indude: arl, poetry, sports, weigit Mfrig, toning and shaping and good sex Looking tar that Mae lover'mentor. I'm Iflalan and Indan and due to be released 82000. Very Strak^t look ing, HIV-. I oddng fa that spedal giy who w i guide me - thorugrlriel

•CurBt Lee Holt 6406 F-412 B. 28 6T 194 denote huid nioe sized HV- adrv* and harry) I anyone k wflhg to conned than I am weirg to hear from you No games a let Involved I wart to espertanoe a Mae wth someone in 9 * world ■Oorten Lee 9882734 B.25,51 f \ 190 m*cula h id handsome, caring epen-mhefed andhapplygay l oofctag tar happiness and long tern- trtenett* aretattansh^ Ages 25to4G, race it unimpertafr Ityou're sanecne w#i I * same gjaMtes. please send a deto wih reply and d answer all •John kferttns 994654 WVCF P-201-U latorVPuerto Rfcan mate 20,5K7, 175, bk.br Hope to be released soon Hare many interest Fmfrom NYC, but can reto ode Age and race irtmportart W l answer al Phctopteas* WII send photo In return •Brian Roe 933232 G-403-L W, 55", 160 looking tar ktod hearted honest, trustworthy friend who ta il judgemental, and know how to tore as wel as be loved htdKgence and rxfependance a must. •Jam** Walsh 883121 WVCF N-401 W, 21, bn. bn Wekht Ming camptog mowes andhavtoga good time are my frterest Out 4-500

P.O. Box 41 M chw m City, H 46361-0041 •Raymond Bowen 875526 W, 38 6 f, 150,bdgi. Lonely, caring, loves natae and out doors WII wrte anyone who cares to write HAchaal Latfrnor* 863765 B. I am a sex starved and beauMuly txJ man who wishes to carespoend wih any man who can perk my swuaf atausty lo the fuflest. •Tmoti** Stanford 951223 B, Goal orientated and career minded Seeks a good man to help me througi the neri lew years ot my remairtig hcarcaafon I want a LTR, so please, no gameslll Jayson Torres 914296 21, 61‘, 175, bn, bn. Better than average buld 8 of love Al letters answered •Coded Wont let 5817 W, 43,511', 190,9" monster) l ooking la a bottom that I can come home to Dec 31,1399.. Let's start the new year togetherIIf

P.O. Box 30 Pendleton. IN 46064 •Eddie Carpenter 10045 37-1J W, 48, 6,200, bn, bn, 8" a i. fra id F r Kissing and cuddling. HIV-, JO and voyerism, etc I have no relatives and need to corre spond wih others. Trades bricklayer, roofer, painter, taiot. prfrt a, tumiue buidng, rock music and some country. •Trinity Hunter 933677 H15-5A W, 22. 6,190, bd. bu Open-minded good nataed, carteg loving and generous writh playful personally Seeking Ice-minded soul mate tor friendship and relationship. W l answer al. •Paul Kimmel 964656 36-2J W, 29, 66", 230, bn, bn. ISO a sincae caring gjy wholl see me Ihrou^i these last years of my stint. Tmsincere, loyal, trusting I w i put my al into a letter. I know you're out there somewhere6lll Photo appreciated Uncuts A+. <>hawn Moore 911814 23-30 FrenchAmericar 21, 8,170 bk, bn, HIV. Bt I oddng la n*n ot al agec who Ike a hung and homy boy to conespard wth andhopeMly term a loving caring relaliav skip wih.

•John Ftedrtgton 886369 22 2R B, bn, bn Sexy body, land and understand ing 1octaig for l T 1ner<lsh|>T«taiash»p I you're true and honed, write and tars photo •Mow* R. Wtcfcnvn 9562C3 .... » W.?15'KT, 175 bn br BE mV-.l desct* myteU at stragi-achng caring adwrtuous lonely easy going honest afledtoanate oncere, passionate, and sol-healed, rrr the boy-ned doa who's slender in shape, very boyish, college student who natualy has very life body hair and keeps his betk and bubble but dean shaver. (50 men d al ages to cartnuricate w ti and a *»oai daddy who tdce ccmplele cortrot and care d We always homy boyn Writell

P.O, BQ*473.Wwty]}teJN 463910413 v lli 985713 7-dorm W, 30,6, 175, bn, bu tal and slm rm 100% Cowboy and I own some horses, love to meet some (da’s throng a fella. •Kregg Mstewwz 974232 Dorm P1-N EM,20, 5*9r, gy, bn Cmlooking tor a pen-pal or something more ages 30-50, any face. W i write al.

P.O Box 128 Eddyville, KY 42038-0128 •John Dearttg 112312 W. 25,64’ , 245, bn, bn Possible release in 2000. Looking to th tfl friendship and more, •Koineth Gibson 90987 KSP 5-3C 5 W, 42,5T , 150bkgyfai Frost on root, Ire in lumace. I riendship and maybe more •Robert Jones 88914 KSP 5-38-6 B. 32, 58* 180, in ged shape. Enjoy chess, tennis and swim ming Seeking man who wants a serious friendship and possite retetkxwhip. •Kerman May 104060 W, 28, 61", 190, bu. Romantic ISO cider professional for friendship and more. •Jeff Tombln 108554 W, 30fs, sgr. 200. Sheri hair into sports. Wart to meet older mature male tor Irfendshfe or more. W i answer al

P.O. Box 636. West liberty, KY 41472 •Wllldm Addison 95200 W. 18, 5'ICC bk, gi. Love anything BK witt' the outdoors. ISO a type of Idhersor relationship I'm just a \ baby as fa as gay fife goes, but I've g ] enjoyed whd Tve done so la. I need someone to take me by my hand and wak me down the gay road d fife and show me all Hie joys I and wonders that ae sti unknow toj me I wart to devote myself and time to a good job, a worm caring home and a loving man v4w know's how to take caed someone Ike me in and out d the bedoom

P.O, Box74a Lo n d o n ,O H 43140-0740

a 1115 E i t t Pence RO.. Can yo n ,

MO 64429

•(John D. Cotsnw 158783 3C-250 W-NA. 5 T 175, bk, to. Country-boy irtc bodytuiklng, sports NktogandWrfrig. Beenincaroaatod5 V? years wlh 3-5more togs. ISC compasstorale man to ytary ideas wlh ' foohr Stephans 182957 3C-250 W 30's, 511*. 175. Sendhve, romantic, rtategert Poetwrtta Irto fitness of mind, boctyandsprt. Very sensual and open to new expenenc** ^cascaded 12 years, out In 2001

P.O. Box 607 Carton CitY. NV 89702 •Kw Karon 43724 W, 24, 58" 160 bk, bu, 8*cut, body ke a nmer and a very boyrahtace ISO a fneantx^d relationship with mature dder man.

•Stephen Anderaon 347-588 BD-132 B, 34,6T, 200, bn, bn. Seefcrg carespondance from ancere gay nates. CveBAin psydwlogy, piay gJHm angand write songs. Hope we vriH expiae ou (feeped hopes and desfres wlh one another, ^ e , race unimporiart. Honesty a mud!

P.O. Box 244. Gratarford. PA 19426-0244 •Gerald Banding AK-6078 NA. 44, 5(T, 150, bn, to. BO adans Lattnos. and white mdes 18-26, thin, but, 55" and smalet, * whlebdhair andbu pe tered, but Cmopen W i write to al.

P.O. Box 724. Edgefield. SC 29824 •Glenn Wight 40494-004 W, 36, 56* 140 Lonely and sincere Locking for you friendship and encouragement. Love writing and getting letters, sharing thoufrts and leeings No games, promise

•Richard Scot! 52332 Tal d t* d walerl Fresh young cowboy with geen eye6 and a w i to ride. Ruggedy handsome, down home pascnality and knows how to use a rope Huigy tor the open plains bd confort- P.O. Box 500g Mountaii City. TN 37683-5000 •Jackie Johnson 204198 abtecr a porch swing locking for a serious relationship and a W, gender-bender, 30ish, wily, telgert, rice body, (large attrtutbed to pul my bods under If interested 0ve me a hdar and es to offer ricjit man.) To be released in 2000. Seeking mateto maybe we can shars some beautiful sunsets together 50 vrix> loves to be of service Stable, secue and aaly agressive P.O. Box 1989 Elv. NV 89301 please Photo if posdbte. No games. •Jeffery Gray 43025 P.O. Box 75a Bio Stone Gap. VA 24219 B, 25,6,175, bn, longhair. Cmsincere, handsome and good company Seek passionate, sincere guy fa good 8m«s or maybe •Richard Cortes 243901 C1-133-B L, 30 5(T, 178,bk,to. Looking to correspond with anyone who some morel w i wirte. I’m physicaly It and dve complexticn, formally marled •Kim Hale 40732 and a father viih 4 daughters and a son. W, 27. 51(r 160, bk, hz, sim, had body. Compassionate, con •Shawn Novak 196541 D-613-T siderale, sexual person looking for the same. Looks or agend W, 24, 51(7, 165. bd bu. Hcptog to write for, inteigert. friteredimportant It's what's in the heart that matters ing people. W i answer al letters and trade photos. •OavkJL Moore 42326 29. Seeks caring loving, honest gving gentle underdandng P.O. B o x 7 ia Keen Mountain. V A 24624 ccmpanicr. I also possess the same qualfe6. HopekJy we can •Charles Anderson 103230 KMCL buid pyrimidB and monuments that w i endue forever and with W, 45, 58", 173, bn, to, Write soon and write (Men. Wil answer stand the hands of time. ail. •Chria O’neil 39343 P.O. Box 888. Monroe. Wfl 98272-0888 27, 66", 170. II be od soon and need somebody lobe waiting Id me I'm ready to put down some rods and dart a ite with the ■Chris Canttey 996944, A-109-1, TRCC W, 37, 61’, 165, bn, hz. ISO LTR vih guys between 27-45. rkfrt pero6n. tf intaested, write. Race no problem. W ing to relocate W i respond to al. •Brian Lepty 58197 W, 34, 510*. 175,bn,bu. Afraid to write pisoners? I run with the P.O. Box 3310. Oshkosh. WI 54903-3310 wolves bd sleep with the lambs, make had things look easy. Cm •Kenneth Ross 342503 nd seeking you to compiet me, just lonely. This tamer teacher W, 30s, 200, bd bu. I love nature and the gothic lifestyle. and journals! speaks, reads, and writes Spanish. Wil answer al. Criginaly from New Orleans; release 2002. Would love to hear Your Ido gets mine from al. Wil answer all. Prefer younger guys. Honest and car ing, ALWAYS. Seeking pen-paJs-not moneyl •Cartes Rebergw 39494 W, 33, 56 165, bn, bn. Seeking older tather Ague to have for with. Love for life. To shae a business, pleasure- Out 2000. N good shape honed, had worker, love many dfterent things. •Robert Paul Spangter 58076 1A-16 Lonely man seeldng friendshnip and red people to correspond with. Race, sex and age nd important. I ’s whaCs in the heart that cants.

P.O.Box 639.1983 Joe R. Silva Btvd.. Las Cruces. NM 88004 \Justr Ray Allan 48242 W, 25, bk. Cmin gxxi shape and donl use drug. ISO another guy to write to and a possible reldionship. I consider myself to be a loving and fon g/y. I would appreride communicdion.

P.O. Box 56 Lebanon. OH 45036

30420 Revolts Neck R D „ W w lover, NO 21890 ________

Hudson Dalton 143943 47. Looking fa people aound my age to wirte thoucfi I vrill answer al. Cm an easy going happy person. I love long walks and the wider. Cmsod peace vrith myself j wrier aound the wder Hope to hear from you.

•Johnathan Johnson 252948 B, 21. I ooktng to careqpond vrith someone. Isthd someone you?

p.0, Box 1500, Waseca. Nft 56093 •Kenneth Sharry 03328-027 W, 43, 6,220, bn, bu I have many interns! rangng from computes to natue, travel to reading Hoping to corre spond with someone

2999 HWY 61 N. WoodviJte, MS 39669 •Larry Dunn 74827 W. 38,51(7. 175, bn, bn. 8" cut Lonely and seeking meaningM carespondance Tmvasdle In bed Wart to know more? than write! Wil answer al.

INMATES may submit their ad 30 words or less T O : RFD Brothers Behind Bars P.O. Box 68 Lberty, TN 37095 R A C E -A G E -H E IG H T -W E IG H T HAIR C O L O R - E Y E C O LO R W = White B = Black L = Latin N A = Native A = Asian Hair: au = auburn bd = blonde bn = brow bk = black rd = red gy = gey Eye color: bu = blue gi = geen bn = brow hz = hazel bk = black Inmates may submit their ad free Printed One Time Only

Special Prisoner Subscription Rate $10.00 per year

Welcome, my name is Leslie. 1 am a 33 year old GWM. 511", with red

This add is for a beau I « « 4 6 «W love trees.

blonde hair, red goatee and hazel eyes. 1 live on the space coast of FL.

I'll be going to tfee International

Real-to-hfe men

w ith meat, but as captured in the drawings of Walden (RFD) are examples. I need a

My in terests include the beach,

Oak Society Conference in AsbviSe,

person in my life who wants my friendship

movies, most types of music and

N C in O c t. 2 0 0 0 . I'd like to nfrite

and my loyalty, but who can function/

to other tree lovers. I'm also considering

nature. 1 enjoy and expect honesty and

a move at some point in the future but

usually speak exactly what 1 feel in

first I need to know more aboat what

the moment. 1 am a magical p ra ct

life is Tike in different parts of the

itioner and professional psycic of

country. I live across the bay from

16 years. M ost of my time is cu r

San Francisco, and pen pals who

remain whole when I am gone, without wandering. If you're a believer in the faith, are into dark meat & men over 18, I probably have what you have been searching for. I'm a healthy smoker, 6', 195, 8 .5 uncut thick w ith nice nipples, am extra clean & HIV-

rently spent working, however when

want to visit this area would be

the universe brings the cooect

welcome here. I'm a gardener, a

A fter the firs t explosion I can usually give

vegetarian and enjoy hiking and

more and want it against my skin or deep

people to me and thier is a syncro-

working out, music, art and movies.

nicity 1 am extremely open and personable. If you feel led to respond

I majored in painting and have also done puppetry and bonsai. I

to me , you are invited.

also like travel. Especially if you're

Leslie Russ

I love monogamous sex and anything tug!

inside of me. I'll be relocating a fte r June 2 0 0 0 , possible live-in situation for the right guy, but love cometh not in 1 day! Currently, seeking friends in Chicago & Twin Cities.

235 Crockett Blvd. # 13

in Appalachia or nearby, I'd like

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Please include a photo if possible.

Larry Schmidt

Open to travelers to IL.. Am cool w ith hiking, canoeing, cooking and more. J. (7 7 3 )4 7 2 -3 1 6 1

C /0 R FD # 10 0

BLESSED BE !

T )0 You know an interesting f a e r ie cWeb cp a#c 99(? if so send me the address at

rocfcYtop2000@Yahoo.com

q wiff prim ,ftc j a?est

RFD prints contact letters free of charge. We also provide a free forwarding service for reader who prefer not to publish their address. Donations, however, are greatly appriciated. We ask that your letters be brief (under 200 words) and positive in stating your prefferences. Saying "NO" to a particular trait or characteristic may unnecessarily offend a brother. We reserve the right to correct spelling and edit as we see fit. Feel free to send a photo (black & white prints better) with your letter, and we will try to include it. RFD assumes no responsibility for claims made in letters, we urge all respodents to exercise caution, especially with any finacial dealings.

...

(-r*WA 57 <5/ 20/<>2>8:55 A X ^ iV ify n c s ia n / g e r m a n m ix , W /br, (> .5 "cu l. . s ^ c a fc o f d r u g J r c c 10 y e a r s . ‘ I h a v e a pet c a t. (1 su p p o rt a n im a l. c o n s e r v a t io n , a n d e n v i r o m c n ta l c a u s e s . ' 1 lik e h a v in g pen p a ls, a in e s . w w w .J a c t s h e e t 5 .c o m . (-I hope to get a n o t h e r c o m p u te r so o n , A y fast o n e ^ { J l e w ' ( J p f . ‘ Tm a g n o stic , b o rd e rlin e a th e ist, f a e r i e s in trig u e m e t h o u ^ i. (Tm s h y at J ir s t .

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Retired professor of design (very down to earth) currently living in Ohio, plans to relocate to S. FL's east coast - south of Ft. Lauderdale. I love the idea of a country place - fru it trees, pets and animals - but I need to be very near the ocean and a metro area. I've read several letters here that describe wonderful rural situations but I am torn as to how I can satisfy my environmental needs. Maybe some of you out there in RFDland have some ideas. Thanks. Nick C/O RFD #100 grek st rek@aol com

H ealth y, h a p p y , sin gle, m an... A g x e a t c a tch !

I've been listed here before, but want to do something different this time. I am no longer seeking; I am sharing my spirituality and common sexuality with gay men of freedom and spirit who choose to correspond in a like constructive sharing with me 1 am a healer and a psychic. If you need stacs, numbers, ect here they are GWM. 46, 5'11”, b r/b r, 170 Photo was published in previous issue, but can be mailed on request Mr Loren Meissner PO Box 75352 Seattle, WA 98125-0352 USA Lmeissne@eskimo.com

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Submission to the will of the god/dess opens us to the wisdom of higher Consciousness. W hether Dominant or Submissive, all positive sexual acts are potential paths to Divine Knowledge The ultimate power lies ever within us; it is Love

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RFD is published Quarterly and is delivered around the solstice and the eQulnox. Second class mail may take Up to three to four weeks. If you do not receive your copy within a month of the publishing date, please check with us. The number of your last subscription Issue is on the mailing label. Second class mall will not be forwarded, so you must let us know ifyou move.

N a m e s We Print

names Of all contributors, but usually not their addresses (except for contact letters). Contributors can be reached through RFD. We do not give out the addresses of subscribers, however. RFD will forward mall to them. Contributors: Please send a couple sentence bio. for possible use.

Submissions

WORDS - This Is a reader-written Journal so please send us your work (under 2500 words is best). I f you have your work on Mac-compatible MS Word or MacWrite. please send a 3.5" disc along with a printed copy. Ifyou are working with any other type of computer, please Just send a disc and a printed copy. In single-spaced, 3 and 1/2 Inch column format. We wield the editorial pen lightly. However, we do (hopefully) correct for spelling and punctuation, unless otherwise noted. ARTWORK - We always need more graphics and photos than we have. If you are an artist or a photographer (you don't have to be professional, Just talented), send us a portfolio. Xeroxes of good Quality, rather than the original, is advisable. PHOTOS - Ifyou have a choice, black and white reproduce better than color. However, ifyou have a gem of a color photo, send It to us. Ifyou would like special treatment of your work, or would like it returned, please be specific. No negatives, please. DRAWINGS It is difficult for us to get good reproduction Quality from color drawings or lightpencil drawings. Light blue is invisible to the camera, and red photographs as black. (Tiy using red color pencil Instead of graphite sometime.) Again, ifyou want special handling, be specific. We will report to you as soon as possible If your submission is selected for publication, but we sometimes hold material over for future issues, and it may be some time before actual publication. Please bear with us. A self addressed stamped enveloped will insure the return ofyour originals. RFD will send contributors one (I) copy of the Issue In which their work appears as payment. Second copy upon reQuest.

a country journal for gay men everywhere

JODY