Goddess Ravenna Ravine

Click on title above for Images by Demian.

This is what I wrote on Sunday, May 11th:

The next day I'd made plans with Purple to participate in the Ravenna Ravine celebration that he always attends. This is held by the Radical Fairies every year and is a very joyous celebration of life and nature. Although it seems a little strange for a bunch of gay men to be celebrating procreation and the goddess, the whole event resonated for me with meaning and joy. A opening ceremony was performed on the west lawn where everyone first gathered. The four directions were invoked and then everyone called for the May Queen to come out of the ravine.

Christopher was dressed in a beautiful renaissance gown in green, purple and white. For someone who is growing out of his nubile androgynous good looks, he looked very handsome and beautiful as the May Queen. He was also very articulate and kept the proceedings focused and moving.

A procession down the ravine took place next and then a stop to pass over a brook and under a bower in order to receive blessings and presents from the May King and Queen. I received a piece of slate with interesting occlusions, a package of seeds and a small porcelain Venus de Wellendorf figure, pierced through the head so as to be a charm for a necklace.

Some more singing and speeches then up the hillside to a large potluck brunch. Then the May pole was set up and several more speeches and songs, rushing the May Pole and finally the dance, which was very organized this year until the King (aka Leo) insisted everyone run around chaotically at the very last, which ended up tying Darlene, the ambassador's wife to the May Pole and then and then and then it was time to go home.

A hand written letter by Freud

Today I offer you a link to an amazing document (click on title above for link). I only wish there was some verification of its authenticity. I can only assume because of the reference to Dr. Kinsey it is in a public archive of materials.

The text written by hand in English on letterhead stationery, reads as follows:

[Prof. Dr. Freud, Wein, IX., Berggasse 19.]

April 9th, 1935

Dear Mrs. --------

I gather from your letter that your son is a homosexual. I am most impressed by the fact that you do not mention this term yourself in your information about him. May I question you why you avoid it? Homosexuality is assuredly no advantage but it is nothing to be ashamed of. No vice, no degradation, it cannot be classified as an illness. We consider it to be a variation of the sexual function produced by a certain arrest of sexual development. Many highly respectable individuals of ancient and modern times have been homosexuals, several of the greatest men among them (Plato, Michelangelo, Leonardo Da Vinci, etc.). It is a great injustice to persecute homosexuality as a crime and a cruelty too. If you do not believe me, read the books of Havelock Ellis.

By asking me if I can help, you mean, I suppose if I can abolish homosexuality and make normal heterosexuality take its place. The answer is in a general way we cannot promise to achieve it. In a certain number of cases we succeed in developing the blighted germs of heterosexual tendencies which are present in every homosexual in the majority of cases it is no more possible. It is a question of the quality and the age of the individual. The result of treatment cannot be predicted.

What analysis can do for your son runs in a different line. If he is unhappy, neurotic, torn by conflicts, inhibited in his social life, analysis may bring him harmony, peace of mind, full efficiency, whether he remains a homosexual or gets [indecipherable because it runs off image]. If you make up your mind, he should have analysis with me�I don�t expect you will�, he had to come over to Vienna. I have no intention of leaving here. However don�t neglect to give me your answer.

Sincerely yours with best wishes,

Freud

P.S. I did not find it difficult to read your handwriting. Hope you will not find my writing and my English a harder task.

[typewritten exhibit affixed to bottom of page]

Dear DR. KINSEY:

HEREWITH I enclose a letter from a Great and Good man which you may retain.

From a Grateful Mother

[handwritten archival note on exhibit]

02.22.49 KC + TUCUMCAYLED R.P.O.

My birthday party and other gatherings

I celebrated the start of my thirty-eigth year last weekend (I turned thirty-seven). I packed several people into my tiny apartment and there were about four shifts of people coming and going. I believe a good time was had by all.

I started the day with my friend Frank, who I'd been helping the previous evening move some belongings from the garage at his old apartment in Crown Hill to donate at the Value Village out there. We'd been too late to get everything donated so this morning we did that, but first I wanted to pick up some more supplies for the party and we diverted to the HUGE Fred Meyer's in Ballard. It was so out of the way that you wouldn't know it was really there unless you stumbled on it, but sure enough we found this HUGE warehouse like store, which included a Starbucks complete with cute shy boy behind the counter...we talked to a woman at the counter but cute boy lurked enough for us to discreetly check out while we sipped our coffees.

Anyway, the donation went quickly and I drove Frank up to my apartment where he graciously offered to wash dishes and greet the first shift of guests at two, while I returned the truck. So I was late showing up, unfortunately, but Tom and Allen, two friends I introduced to Frank because they collect old 78s, had already arrived. They were very gracious and gave me a wonderful history of silent film [Silent Stars, by Jeanine Basinger, pub. by Knopf]. They had to be off soon and they didn't stay for very long, but just behind them arrived some of my friends from work.

Angelika and Casstinna showed up bearing cream filled Krispy Kreme doughnuts with Robin, the executive assistant trailing behind. Angelika working in accounting and Casstinna is the head receptionist at the psychiatric clinic where I work. Robin brought me a book [Hypnotherapy: A Client-Centered Approach, by Mary Lee LaBay, pub. by Pelican Pub Co.]. At work she'd told me she'd been working part-time as a hypnotherapist before she took the executive assistant position at CPC. Casstinna and Angelika had asked me to do a Tarot reading before so I offered to do a general reading for the party. I used the new tarot deck that had been given me by the administrative team at work called The Crystal Tarot, published by Llewellyn. Angelika needed to move her car so once I'd finished the reading she and Casstinna left but Robin stayed for a little while longer.

Maxwell showed up and then Purple showed next, announcing the arrival of the third shift. Robin met Purple and then excused herself. I'm beginning to forget details around who arrived but the room began to quickly fill up when Craig and Simon showed around four. Craig brought very good dark chocolate, and Simon brought me a little fat Buddha statue which has been bringing me joy ever since I discovered where he'd placed it on my computer stand. Very thoughtful gifts indeed! Judy and Billy showed up bringing tea from the Tulip festival. Then Carolyn arrived bearing strawberries and champagne.

My landlord, that is "the man who owns the building" Al Hendricks, showed up around seven thirty to see how things were getting along. He promptly announced that he didn't like being referred to as landlord because he doesn't like to lord over anybody. I am duly corrected. Al didn't stay for a drink, insisting that his wife was waiting for him at home. I'm glad he stopped in though, it is very neighborly of him.

Eventually the party started winding down. Maxwell had to work in the morning. I think and Judy and Billy had other things to do that evening. I eventually announced that my plan was to go out later that evening, so more people took their leave. Maximilian showed up bearing incense and licorice root tea, then Trent presently showed up with Lewis. Trent brought a CD of dance music.

I got dressed to go out with Max opting for my shiny silver pants and silver tinsel shirt. Trent and Lewis insisted I wear the Krispy Kreme hat that Casstinna had scored for me. After bidding Frank, Trent and Lewis adieu, Max and I went up to the Capital Hill Arts Center on Twelfth Avenue.

The space was well organized and there seemed to be art installations and Butoh dance performance along with the visuals and live performers. In one room there were several people playing thumb harps and drums while Reiki massage was being performed. I hung out there and managed to add an element to my command word "focus", now when I tell myself to "focus" I can hear thumb harps which assists me in returning to that peaceful state of mind I encountered that evening.

I happened to run into a former co-worker, Helen, that night, who'd been performing as one of the Butoh dancers. She was performing with two other people a young man and another woman. They carried fans, huge white fans, and all wore green lame' sheath dresses. Helen had done her hair up in little braids that she'd wrapped with green tinsel pipecleaners. I thought she looked a bit like Medusa. It was great talking to her because she was so energized by the dancing and kept laughing out loud. I have to say I really like her and think she is an amazing person. I met her because of her work at the chemical dependency program at the agency where I work.

Max and I were pretty exhausted by the time we left the Center. We retired to my place and I invited him to crash on my bed. It was a very satisfying experience.

It's my birthday today!

It's my birthday tomorrow!

It used to be that I felt victimized by my birthday. I remember other children's birthday parties from my early childhood when the child of honor was celebrated with as many birthday attendants, and therefore presents, as possible. I remember at least one such party that my mother held for my older brother Michael that involved an Easter Bunny cake and many kids (his birthday corresponds with that holiday sometimes). I was kept from the festivities because I think I was either two or three at the time, so was confined to a play pen. By the time I was old enough to ask for such a party my mother was burned out on the process and refused.

It wasn�t like I didn�t try. I remember one birthday, it should have been my seventh or eighth birthday, I attempted to hold my own birthday party. With my mother�s permission, which was only given under duress, I sent out invitations. I didn�t realize that you should give most mothers a month�s notice for such a gathering. I gave just under five days notice. Everyone I invited declined.

Most of the time, the presents I remember most receiving were things like books or clothing, but the one birthday present that sticks in my mind was on my tenth birthday. I played violin ever since I�d convinced my parents to buy me a violin and pay for lessons in second grade. My grandparents were very musical: my grandfather had an excellent singing voice and quite talented on the guitar and mouth harp, my grandmother played piano and mandolin. They never taught me anything they knew and the only way I knew they appreciated my musical talent was they listened quietly, but intently whenever my mother prevailed on me to perform for their benefit. So on my tenth birthday they gave me something that indirectly affirmed their faith in my musicality, a black collapsible music stand.

Nowadays I prefer experiences to material objects. I'm hosting a cocktail party at my place this year, last year I got my first tattoo, the year before that I think I did dinner at the Cyclops, which is a long-time favorite. I've invited nearly everyone I know to the party and I don't know how I'm going to fit them all in my dinky little apartment. There will be a two hour prefunction for my sober friends and then at about four I'm going to start serving drinks. It should be interesting and fun. With any luck I won't piss off the neighbors with all the noise.