How beautiful, David. Wessie and I met in SF at the faerie circle and then really bonded at Wolf Creek when I got stung by a bee and we created an impromptu mud ritual. For me, Wessie was and is the soul of faerieness…we became friends, and I loved and felt profoundly honored to visit him and Goat when he was convalescing. He wrote me an amazing email once about his first sexual experience. When I read it, I knew it was a piece of important literature and I saved it until one day I had the good fortune to put together an anthology called Queer & Catholic. I put Wessie’s email in there as one of the personal essays, to this day my favorite. This man was a gift, an angel to me, the man who taught me pretty much everything that Harry Hay was trying to tell us – that being gay was a gift, and about love, and sex was one part of that, but the erotic male connection was the real treasure and connection. This man lives in my pantheon forever…sweet, sweet Wessie
One time I drove Wessie home from a gathering. Oh we talked on and on. I dunno, that ride stood out. He was quiet and gruff, but had all sorts of interesting things to say about stuff I never think about. I remember that ride almost as an icon. And then one day, at a gathering, I realized that I hadn’t thought about that ride in years. That was the day I realized we needed to put together the Memorial Page.
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How beautiful, David. Wessie and I met in SF at the faerie circle and then really bonded at Wolf Creek when I got stung by a bee and we created an impromptu mud ritual. For me, Wessie was and is the soul of faerieness…we became friends, and I loved and felt profoundly honored to visit him and Goat when he was convalescing. He wrote me an amazing email once about his first sexual experience. When I read it, I knew it was a piece of important literature and I saved it until one day I had the good fortune to put together an anthology called Queer & Catholic. I put Wessie’s email in there as one of the personal essays, to this day my favorite. This man was a gift, an angel to me, the man who taught me pretty much everything that Harry Hay was trying to tell us – that being gay was a gift, and about love, and sex was one part of that, but the erotic male connection was the real treasure and connection. This man lives in my pantheon forever…sweet, sweet Wessie
One time I drove Wessie home from a gathering. Oh we talked on and on. I dunno, that ride stood out. He was quiet and gruff, but had all sorts of interesting things to say about stuff I never think about. I remember that ride almost as an icon. And then one day, at a gathering, I realized that I hadn’t thought about that ride in years. That was the day I realized we needed to put together the Memorial Page.