Number 158 Summer 2014 $9.95Issue 159 / Fall 2014 THE FULL FORTY Submission Deadline: July 21, 2014 www.rfdmag.org/upload When did you pick up your first copy of RFD? Who introduced you to our radical read? Have you been one of those dedicated subscribers all along? Did you just discover us and send us your first poem, your thoughtful essay, your expressive art? Is that bookstore where you first found us still around? What issue uplifted you the most, really got you stirred up? You have never written us? Now is the time. For forty years this has been your reader-created journal. Your words, your images, your experi- ences, your desires, your grieving ––– they have been our reasons to exist, to print, to connect. You are US We are U So Do it Now Do IT Again Submit to RFD! The upcoming Fall Issue is our of- ficial 40th Anniversary. We marvel at forty-filled years of continuous publication. We honor the memories of so many: Stewart Scofield, Rick Graff, Carl Witman, Faygele benMiriam, Candor Smoothstone, Arthur Evans, Raven Wolfdancer, Michael Mason, Crit Goin, Dwight DeLight Dunaway, and so many more dearly departed comrades-in- arms. (Tell us whom you remember and why!) We praise the intrepid dedication of a great many more: Donald-Eng- strome-Reese, Ron Lambe, Franklin Abbott, Raphael Sabatini, Jan Nathan Falling Long, Tom Seidner, Steven Riel, Bo Young, Jim Long, Dan Vera, Dancing Mane, Vaughn Frick, Stevee Postman, Myrlin, Gabby Haze, Daz’l, Sylvan, Keith Thomason, Jombi, Lapis, Leopard, Ha!, John Wall, James Creagh… and the list so much longer. So much appreciation given and due. Matt Bucy, Bambi Gauthier and fellow feys in New England have revived our aging publication and are propelling us into this new cen- tury with a format returning to its com- fortably hand-held, radical roots and they have added full-color bleeds off the page! Ours is a unique and vibrant chapter in the history of gay publications. One not pandering to the gay gene for trendy consumer- ism but emanating form the Whitmanesque compulsion to self-celebrate and make comrade connection. Come, Rejoice in these forty years with us—with a renewal or first time subscription and with your thoughts and images —to keep active this forty year dia- logue with one another. —Sr. Soami for the RFD Collective First issue of RFD, Fall 1974 Remember, Rejoice & Renew! RFD 158 Summer 2014 1 Requiem Fictor Divinae* Vol 40 No 4 #158 Summer 2014 In this issue we share stories and poetry about how the AIDS crisis, a term so unable to reflect it’s actual impact on our lives as queer people. As we look at how time, political and medical responses have shifted the con- versation about HIV, we hope our readers will explore some of the memories of your fellow readers as they share from the heart. We are also please to share a number of interviews and reviews of a liter- ary nature. Firstly, an interview with poet, Edward Field on his ninetieth birthday. A winner of various literary awards, Field is one of our beloved poets and we’re honored to have him back in our pages. Dolores De Luce, on the other, hand is a fiesty memorist whose life in San Francisco allows us access to how before HIV life was more fluid in terms of community and sexuality. It’s interesting to see how her experi- ence dovetails with the lives of people in the ‘post-HIV’ era compares in terms of ideals and outcomes. The upcoming Fall issue will mark the fortieth anniversary of RFD, from our humble beginnings in Iowa to our humble existence today in New Eng- land, we want to welcome our readers memories of RFD. Also we’d love to hear from folks who worked on the production of RFD in the past to share your experiences. Hopefully, we can share our stories with some dish but little drama, as we’re sure RFD has had a bumpy ride to four decades. Sadly, as Giovanni’s Room in Philadelphia closes, another of our gay bookstore accounts dwindles. If you have ideas for reaching new readers let us know. As always we strive to reflect our readers interests. If you have an idea for a future issue please send in your ideas. —The RFD Collective Between the Lines *Rest Dreamer Divine2 RFD 158 Summer 2014 RFD is a reader-written journal for gay people which focuses on country living and encourages alternative lifestyles. We foster community building and networking, explore the diverse expressions of our sexuality, care for the environment, Radical Faerie consciousness, and nature-centered spirituality, and share experiences of our lives. RFD is produced by volun- teers. We welcome your participation. The business and general production are coordinated by a collective. Features and entire issues are prepared by different groups in various places. RFD (ISSN# 0149-709X) is published quarterly for $25 a year by RFD Press, P.O. Box 302, Hadley MA 01035-0302. Postmaster: Send address changes to RFD, P.O. Box 302, Hadley MA 01035- 0302 Non-profit tax exempt #62- 1723644, a function of RFD Press with office of registration at 231 Ten Penny Rd., Woodbury, TN 37190. RFD Cover Price: $9.95. A regular subscription is the least expensive way to receive it four times a year. Copyright © 2012 RFD Press. The records required by Title 18 U.S.D. Section 2257 and as- sociated with respect to this magazine (and all graphic material associated therewith on which this label appears) are kept by the custodian of records at the following location: RFD Press, 85 N Main St, Ste 200, White River Junc- tion, VT 05001. Mail for our Brothers Behind Bars project should be sent to P.O. Box 68, Liberty TN 37095. On the Covers Front: “Finished Andre 4” by artboydancing Production Managing Editor: Bambi Gauthier Art Director: Matt Bucy Editor: Paul Wirhun Submission Deadlines Fall–July 21, 2014 Winter–October 21, 2014 See inside covers for themes and specifics. For advertising, subscriptions, back issues and other information visit www.rfdmag.org Artists in This Issue artboydancing 12,21,23,24,27,29,47,48,51 Donald Rizzo 18 Hunter Desportes 42 RFD 158 Summer 2014 3 CONTENTS Letters and Announcements .....................................................4 Lost Innocence ................................Alan Yount ......................6 Photographs ..................................Grahame Perry ...................8 Ropes: A Documentary Essay ...................Lee Brozgol ....................10 HIV ..........................................Wonderful .....................14 Coddling Moth ................................Wonderful .....................14 The AIDS Coalition To Unleash Power ...........Wes Hartley ...................15 To Lose Is To Live .............................Finger .........................16 Ward 86*—1984 Lost in the Mysts of Time .......Gareth Alteresçcu ..............20 Lost or Exterminated?. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Ibu Ala Iña (Lowell Denny) ......22 Distillation 35 [The Euthanasia Group] ...........James Benedict .................25 Yesterdays And Tomorrows .....................H. L. Sudler ....................26 An AIDS Memoir .............................Equus (a.k.a. Gregory T. Wilkins) .28 A Note and Two Poems ........................Michael Kiesow Moore ..........30 All About Yves: Memories of Assotto Saint .......Franklin Abbott ................32 A Memory of Yves Lubin, aka Assotto Saint ......Walter Holland .................35 A Few More Tears and Words for My Mighty, Assotto Saint! ...................Duncan E. Teague ..............38 A Love Story from the Plague ...................Dennis Dunnum. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 39 Men Who Love Plants .........................Hunter Desportes ..............42 To Blow A Coal ...............................Christopher O. McCarter ........44 Blue Plate Special ..............................Christopher O. McCarter ........45 Hymn to Adonis ...............................Rob McCabe ...................46 Memento Mori ................................Rob McCabe ...................46 Goatboy ......................................Gavin Dillard ..................49 Child of Horns ................................Gavin Dillard ..................49 The Future is a White Sheet .....................Jason Bartlett ..................50 Inside a Pearl: My Paris Years (Edmund White) . . .Reviewed by Leo Racicot ........52 Interview with Dolores .........................Robert Croonquist (Covelo) .....55 Edward Field on Turning Ninety ................Franklin Abbott ................614 RFD 158 Summer 2014 Letters Dear RFD, I can't help but notice that RFD has lost much of its rural roots and really cannot be 'rural' anymore- -its more a drag fest--which I don't mind so much but I miss the rural roots of the magazine--how about providing more balance with article? a little less glitz a little more bee keeping in the nude? Thank you, John RFD’s response: John - thanks for being in touch we would love to print some bee keeping in the nude pics! Much of what RFD publishes comes out of the minds of it’s readers, so all you folks interested in “rural” life—please send in your ideas for a future issue! As a way of rekindling your interest in RFD’s roots—the Fall issue is a celebration of our 40th year publishing . So dust off your pics and send them in! We’d love to hear your RFD stories of how an article inspired you, or how those early pen pal contacts led to a friendship or more. Asian Faerie Gatherings Gathering in Southern Thailand annually in late January/early February and starting in 2014 in Bali, Indonesia in August/September. Visit asianfaeries . com for all the latest news and information. We are also on Facebook: www .facebook .com/groups/asian- faeries/ and have a Yahoo Group. California Community of Men Gathering Imagine an entire weekend dedicated to, even devoted to a long, wonderful pause from our rushed, daily lives. The perfect amount of time to both lose yourself, and begin to find a new, im- proved self among caring men who see, respect, even celebrate you exactly for who you are…at the California Community of Men, or “CalComMen” Community Camp. A rare and delicious chance for us to get totally “off-the-grid” together, at a 40-acre camp set in the woods, 6000-feet up in the San Ber- nardino mountains, with lazy warm days among the ancient, towering pines, and clean crisp nights filled with hundreds of stars. Los Angeles, CA, August 22-24, 2014 www .CalComMen .com info@CalComMen .com Cast Away: Witch Gathering at Faerie Camp Destiny The Radical Faeries of Destiny and their Re- claiming Witch friends are collectively conjuring a full-moon voyage. Join us on the land for a weekend of magickal learning, teaching, workshops, pathwork, and skill sharing. Cast away! Set sail! Explore the magic of being outside the mainstream, of feeling adrift. Find fellow castaways and create our own ways. Let’s cast our own circle, honor what we hold sacred, and discover what hoists our masts, shivers our timbers, fills our sails and inspires us to move forward together. Please plan to arrive on Thursday afternoon, July 10, and stay until Sunday afternoon, July 13. Choose the learning path you wish to em- bark on and commit to for the weekend, and enjoy workshops and ritual in the afternoons and evenings. This is a Radical Faerie/Reclaiming Witch mashup, and our spell is to strengthen our divinely human alli- ances as we set sail into the inevitable unknown. LETTERS & ANNOUNCEMENTS RFD 158 Summer 2014 5 Faeries and the Rainbow Gatherings I love Rainbow Gatherings. I adore the remote locations far from the pandemonium of the civilized world. The Rainbow people have sweet ways of be- haviour, the Rainbow standards work for me so well. I feel free running through the forests naked, cook- ing tea for whoever shows up in the Chai kitchen and sharing knowledge with some incredibly inspir- ing human beings. There is so much diversity, kind- ness and love in the Rainbow space. Except … When I first came to the European Rainbow Gathering in the Ukraine, I had just turned 19. Freshly out of school, the world was mine. I was free, single and inexperienced. The gathering was in a location three hours walking from the last village, in the vastness of the Carpathian mountains. What pleasantly shocked me were all those beautiful people in colourful clothes (or without) with children of all sizes. There were people cooking together, eating together in a food circle of nearly 2000 people strong. That was a day before the full moon celebration when most people show up. Rainbow Gatherings last for a month, starting and ending with the Moon is new, with a big celebration in the middle, when the energy is high and the moon is full. I was fascinated. But after just a few days I got a fierce feeling of loneliness, especially at nights. When there are people all around you but you can’t find “your tribe”. I was missing something badly. During the day was quietly admiring all those beautiful men but didn’t know how to approach them, how close I could get to them. One day there was a man with such deep brown eyes. His look was mesmerizing. We kept looking into each other’s eyes for ages. I’d never felt anything that strong. The place, the moon, the per- son—all that had such tender but powerful magic in it. I relaxed and then realized we were hugging. I was excited and not only in my mind. My body was shivering. It was an intense hug with someone who was technically a stranger but felt like a soul mate. There were more such encounters at future Rain- bows but back then it puzzled me. That man had a girlfriend there. I didn’t understand. I was very very confused. At the first sight Rainbow looks hetero- normative. Couples—man & woman—are seen everywhere, often with children. But you don’t see two men or two girls together often. If they hug, it is hugging like friends do. Where were the gays? They must have been hiding somewhere; I just couldn’t get to them. I had the same feeling three years later in Slova- kia. I coped better. I found friends and gave up on expecting any sex. I had a delightful encounter with Continues on Page 7 Matej Žitňanský . Photo couretesy of the author .6 RFD 158 Summer 2014 I came of age in the “Age of AIDS,” coming out at 17 in the idyllic, innocent, pre-AIDS year of 1978 . AIDS took all that innocence away . I lost all faith and ran away, joining the Peace Corps in 1985, hop- ing to escape the plague—the war being waged on my people . But . . . no matter where you go, there you are . L ike so many other gay men of that time, I first learned of the disease that would later be named AIDS from the New York Times article, “Rare Cancer Seen in 41 Homosexuals.” The year was 1981, and I was a nursing student at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. I came across the article while researching a paper for my Health of Populations class. I had chosen gay men as my population to study. I was, after all, one of seven men in a nursing program with over 300 students. I felt it would be easier to choose a population I actually cared about; a population I knew a little about from my own experience. After all, I had my own experi- ences as a gay man to draw upon. I, myself, had been called by the county health department after being reported as a “contact” from someone with syphi- lis. I had dutifully reported to the Student Health Center, to the knowledgeable and sympathetic physician—a physician who worked with gay men. While it turned out that I did not have syphilis, I did now have a knowledgeable and sympathetic physi- cian who knew that I was gay and would attend to the unique health needs of a gay man. For example, a sore throat would require swabbing for gonorrhea, not simply looking for strep or some other run-of- the-mill cause. It only seemed fitting that I should honor this relationship by looking at the specific health needs of gay men for my HOPs research paper. I was pleasantly surprised to find out how much research had been done on my own health needs—journal articles and studies, all about gay men and their needs. It was while looking through the latest updates and abstracts for health journals, I found the Times article. I noted it in my paper, in a short paragraph without much concern, concluded the paper, and handed it in. I didn’t realize how close I would come to this new “gay disease.” None of us did. By the time I graduated in 1984, several of my friends—and boy- friends—would be sick or dead of the disease. The first man I slept with at Carolina would get sick, be hospitalized, and die while I was rotating through the wards at North Carolina Memorial Hospital. I would visit him while he was in the hospital, al- though he would not recognize me. Later that year, while I was working as a cardiol- ogy nurse in Atlanta, I came down with the chicken pox. I would miss 3 weeks of work, lose some thirty pounds, and be scarred from head to toe, but espe- cially on my face. More than scarred, I was scared. There was no test for AIDS in 1984; the cause, a virus, had just been identi- fied that year. A diagnosis was made based on the occurrence of “opportunistic infections”—unusual infec- tions that occurred because the patient’s immune system was compromised. These infections had their own ominous-sounding names— a Kaposi’s sarcoma, Pneumocystis carinii pneumo- nia, cytomegalovirus—that came with their own shorthand—KS, PCP, CMV. Another so-called opportunistic infection that might indicate the development of AIDS was the reactivation of a childhood illness that a patient had already had and should, therefore, have immunity to. I didn’t remember if I had had chicken pox as a child, and I feared that I had already developed AIDS. My first night back at work, I was confronted with the fate that awaited me, if I did indeed have the virus. The Emergency Room called in the middle of the shift with an admission—an AIDS patient with cardiology complications. I volunteered to take him. He was brought upstairs by a team of orderlies in biohazard suits. He was placed on “strict isola- tion”—we all had to don biohazard suits and masks Lost Innocence by Alan Yount More than scarred, I was scared. There was no test for AIDS in 1984; the cause, a virus, had just been identified that year. RFD 158 Summer 2014 7 to enter his room, discarding them in a biohazard container at the door to his room. All reusable ma- terials used in his care—sheets, towels, washcloths, blood pressure cuffs—had to remain in the room or be placed into bright red bags marked “BIOHAZ- ARD” and be sterilized before being put back into use. All disposable materials—dressings, gloves, masks, gowns—had to be placed into bags also marked “BIOHAZARD” to be disposed of separately from all other trash on the unit. He looked like hell, emaciated with the open weeping sores of KS, and severe PCP. I don’t recall what his cardiology complications were, but that he would have some cardiology problems was no surprise. Is this what is going to happen to me? I worried. At some point during that night shift I decided that I had to leave—I either already had AIDS and would die a very ugly death, or, somehow, I didn’t have it, and I needed to get out of town—out of the coun- try—to avoid that fate. My plan took shape over the next several weeks, as I continued to work the night shift, watching our AIDS patient die that very ugly death that I feared. I would join the Peace Corps. The Peace Corps would send me overseas. If I didn’t have a healthy immune system, I would die quickly. If I had a healthy im- mune system, I would be safely out of harm’s way for two years. A little less than a year later, I was accepted and given my assignment—Guatemala. I left in June of 1985. Of course, I couldn’t escape AIDS. It followed me there. It seemed to taunt me. In my work as a volun- teer, I collaborated with the United States Agency for International Development—US AID—and the Canadian International Development Organiza- tion—CIDA, pronounced sida, the same as AIDS in Spanish. It haunted me. The nights were dark. Darker than any I had experienced back home. The electricity went out around 8:00pm in my village, and I would be plunged into complete darkness. Something lived between the ceiling of my room and the tin roof overhead; it’s pacing a monotonous track, like my thought. We were given the international edition of Newsweek, with newsprint paper instead of the slick paper of the U.S. edition. I would read about AIDS by lantern light at night, learning that Rock Hudson had died. From AIDS. I would turn the lantern off, close my eyes, and try to go to sleep. The Peace Corps did, at least, teach me to face my fears. I returned to the United States in 1987. I went to Washington, DC, and got a job at George Washington University Hospital, working with AIDS patients. The AIDS Quilt came to DC while I was there, in 1987 and 1988. I visited the quilt in 1988—8,288 panels. Eight thousand two hundred eighty-eight lives. It was six years after last seeing the first man I dated at Chapel Hill, dying in his hospital room. I wondered if anyone had made a panel for him. I had to search my memory for his name—Hogie Gaskins. Then, I searched the Quilt. He was there. It’s been 32 years now, and I still put flowers in church at Easter for Hogie. I only lost my innocence. He lost his life. w a boy and a girl together, a three-way unity. It was random, the gays were still hidden. Last year the gathering was in the Greek moun- tains. A Faerie boy from Israel made a Queer talking circle and a theatre improvisation workshop. I was excited. Forty people showed up. We had a talking stick and shared loads of thoughts and feelings. So many people felt alone, like “the only gay in the vil- lage”. Finally, I was not alone. I made gay friends and enjoyed the dreamlike days. Supposedly, at Rainbow Gatherings in the USA as well as at the Burning Man there are Faerie camps or domes where the sexual expression is free, where people can connect with others of the same sex easily and shamelessly. That’s what I want to bring to Europe. My mission is to create Gay-Queer-Faerie areas at European Rainbow Gathering in Romania (26 July to 25 August 2014) and World Rainbow Gathering in Hungary (25 August to 24 September 2014). I wish for a space where sexual expression of any kind between adult humans is all right. The points are sharing, acceptance and harmony together in our bodies. Is anyone willing to join me? Contact me at: mattyrainbowboy@gmail.com. —Matty Rainbow Boy Continued from Page 5Next >