Christine Rosamond – The Movie

Capturing Beauty – The Movie

Chapter One

Enter Our Muse

Hidden in the shadows of doorway to the closed bar, Rena watched her prey come her way again. He was alone this time, she straining to see his face when he came under another lamp pole on the Venice Pier. Was he kind? Would he do her harm if she could just own the courage to ask him for help. Rena had never asked anyone for help before. She had time to practice since he first walked by with the young coupl that were obviously in love. Her prey had let them go to the end of the pier by themselves, and now stood at the railing looking down at the waves as they broke on the sands. To Rena, he appeared deep in thought, a good sign, for she had come to trust no one in the two days she had been in Los Angles. In Nebraska, people didn’t treat other people like a piece of meat. You could trust strangers. However, her extreme beauty was like cursed flame that seemed to draw every low-life to her, and her boyfriend she drove west with,. They got separated in the afternoon when he called the muscle men on Santa Monica Beach “Fags!” He was disgusted, and was run-beliving when eight bloated dudes came at him with the intent of doing some serious bodily harm.

Rena Christiansen watched in utter shock as her boyfriend became a speck way down the boardwalk, the muscle men hot on his trail, seeming kicking up a cloud of dust like a posse after a bad guide. Rena’s boyfriend, thought he was bad,acted bad, and now he was getting his come-uppens. At close the 3:00 AM in the morning, Rena was getting what she deserved. She had no money, forgot where the car was parked, and could not go to the apartment on the beach where they were staying because the two rich kids who lived there had dropped acid and were acting like total assholes. They were demanding that Rena sleep with them, or get the hell out.

For hours she dating for her boyfriend to come back, and feared the worst. Would she dare fall asleep in the doorway of the bar, or, on the beach.

“C’mon! What’s keeping you?” Rena asked, she now detrmied that this guy would be the one, the one who would save her, would be her knight in shining armor, come to her rescue.

* * *

I had never seen my sister Christine happier. Michael Dundon was sincere, and deeply in love with his sister-in-laws sister. Michael was, seventeen. Christine was twenty two.

We had been up late talking. Jim’s house was located on the canals, four blocks from the beach. We took a walk to the pier. I let them do what lovers will do, walk to the end of piers together, climb mountains and high towers, so they can celebrate the joy of finding ‘The One’.

I was happy for my sister, and the young an I was just getting to know. Walking to the edge of the pier I looked down on the crashing waves, I wondering where she is, ‘The Next One’ for I had found my One, or,she had found me. Marilyn Geoffrey used to spy on me from afar. When she saw me doing a life-size bust of Cindy, a beautiful young woman she had known since second grade, she knew I was the one she was looking for. I was sixteen, and she fifteen. We were together close to three years. I lost her.
A year earlier I had found her living in the Hollywood Hills. She was in love,. Alas, it was over.
“Where are you? Where is she, the love of my life?” I asked the waves, as if they woud deliver her unto me, my Venus for life.

When Rena came gliding out of the dark doorway, I gasped. My heart was racing. I could barely catch my breath in order to answer the question she put to me.

“Can I walk with you?”

I had to look away for a second, unbelieving this beauty was speaking to me. But for Christine and Michael now approaching us, there was not a soul around. I felt utterly intimidated by her perfection. She was tall, and I recall that her head was bent down, she hunched slightly over to hear my answer. She was impatient. She was ‘The Death’. I now took in her body. She was graceful, and powerful. She dominated me, completely. I forced myself to look into her eyes. I had to say something. I searched fr words.and found them all, total bullshit. I told the truth.

“Of course. I was expecting you.” I spoke with a smile, for I made my move, and stood some chance of capturing the most beautiful woman I had ever seen, and perhaps the most beautiful woman in the world.

“I was looking down on the waves back there, wondering when the love of my life would come into my life. Don’t worry. I’m harmless. I’m a romantic and poet.

“Oh!” Rena said, then took another close look at me, the harmless – nut!

I was glad when Michael and Christine approached us. We exchanged names. Rena was relieved to know she had found a brother and sister, some people who she might trust to act – human.

“Can I stay with you guys tonight. I’m from Nebraska and got seperated from my boyfriend.”

We told Rena were were guests, and Jim and Vicki would not mind.

Safely inside, and in the light, there was a reverence and hush in the room, for Rena’s beauty was so rare, it was like we had found and captured an exotic animal. Our main concern was to make her feel comfortable, at ease, because we did not want her to bolt for the door. We just wanted to look at her, take her in, make her feel one with us.

Rena has the most semetric face I have ever seen. If you put a piece of paper over half of her face, then move it to the other half, both sides are nearly identical. As I took her in I wondered what it was like for her to awaken every morning, go to the mirror, just to see if it was still true, that your grew up iside the body of skinny kid with pigtails, and now was inside the body of a goddess.

I studied Christine as she took a deep look inside this creature. She had stopped talking. I looked at Rena to see if she noting how Christine was reading her, she looking for the real Rena. Silence. It was time for bed. My heart was racing again, when Michael went into a closet and got a bunch of blankets for us, and lay them on the floor. Rena curled up in her pie of blankets, and I in mine, I but six feet away from her. Christine and Micheal got on the mattress that was used as a couch, and we fell asleep. But, not before I took in Rena’s form, her shadow, and asked;

“What have I done.”
In the morning when Rena and I were alone she said;

“I don’t think your sister likes me.”
“Why do you think that?”
“She staring at me, hard.!”

She was reading you. She’s psychic. Were psychic.
Now, Rena was reading me, taking me in.

“My God! You have gold eyes!” As an artist, I understood the term ‘Archetype.

* * *

I hung the photo of Rena over the heads of Jacci and her good buddy, Stacey, because Art Justice has arrived. The photo of the Gallery Gargoyles was taken in March of 1994 – just before my beautiful sister was swept off dramatic rocks, to her death.

After beholding pictograph of the painting I did of Rena, Chrstine took up art. Michael Dundon encourage her.

In my Family Movie, our Muse returns to me, to us, to save our family, and Rosamonds artistic legacy.
After becoming an exotic dancer if a private club in Washington D.C. Rena meets a British Admiral who asked her to be his wife, and live in his mansion on the Isle of Wight. He has rescued Rena who born him tow children. He dies in an automobile accident, leaving Rena a widow. Taking her husbands boat out to sea, and while in despair, the boat hit submerged rocks, and Rena drowns.

On the other side she gets a clear glimpse, a picture she had suppressed for many years. She is in a tent atop a mountain, looking at the setting sun atop this fog bank that is rolling in. I turn to her and say;

“See! I told you I would bring you to heaven.”

* * *

In Stacey Pierrot’s movie, rthey wheel out a ninety nine year old hag, who is the ringer for Rosamond’s kindergarten teacher, who they bribed with a box of chocolates at the old School Marm Home.

“Christine Rosamond…….This is your life!”

“Not quite!” cries Rena as she descends into the gallery, her gold eyes ablaze, her velvet green cape bellowing about her. And with her fair hand, she zaps Jacci and Stacey, turns them into two piles of packing popcorn!

Why packing popcorn? God only knows. But I do know this, a movie was in the works – before Christine died. You see, my angel, my Muse, came to me in a dream – after I began my third portrait of Rena. I summoned her, from the hither side, went in search of her, like Orpheus.
Rosemary told me Carrie Fisher worked on a screenplay. Carrie is the daughter of Eddie Fisher, who was married to Elizabeth Rosemond Taylor, our kindred. We got Star and Muse Power, her, folks! They got the Little Old Lady Phantom of the Opera!

The Child plays
The toy boat sails across the pond
The work now
Has just begun
Oh child
Look what you have done

About Royal Rosamond Press

I am an artist, a writer, and a theologian.
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1 Response to Christine Rosamond – The Movie

  1. Reblogged this on Rosamond Press and commented:

    I have to stop playing around and get MY movie on the silver screen. https://rosamondpress.com/2015/05/02/capturing-the-lone-monterey-cypress/

    https://rosamondpress.com/2015/01/06/julie-lynch-sexpot/

    https://rosamondpress.com/2014/12/14/more-inherent-vice/
    https://rosamondpress.com/2014/07/07/no-drama-please/
    https://rosamondpress.com/2012/06/03/dirty-harry-and-oakland-jonny/

    The woman wrapped in the curtain is Karen Holly. I believe she fathered my child, a son named William, or, Bill. Before she went into rehab she wanted to drive to LA to meet Rosemary. Why? In looking back I believe her doctor told her if she kept drinking she would lose her baby – she told me nothing about. After I got sober, I got wise, and gave her a call.
    “His name is Bill. He has blonde hair. He is not yours.” Karen offered.
    “Did I ask?” and there was silence. I did not know for sure if I had a daughter at this time. Above is a photo of Heather Hanson, who was growing up while my life was in the balance. She had blonde hair that runs in our family with some kindred, this a Rosamond trait that may come from Radbot the Viking Rover.
    Paul Drake had made reservations at the Flamingo near the Santa Monica peir after I told him I was coming down to LA.
    “Get me a room with some Bohemian class. Karen is an artist.”
    Paul played Mick in Sudden Impact.

    Abuse film is an awakening for writer and her audience
    By ERNEST HOOPER
    Published April 7, 2006

    Julie Lynch’s satin aqua blue blouse is stained beyond repair, but in many ways it is more beautiful now than the night she wore it to a screening of her movie Getting Off .
    Several years ago, Lynch screened her award-winning movie about a sexual assault survivor to an audience in Austin, Texas. Afterward, 60 women lined up to cry on her shoulder.
    “My whole left shoulder was soaking wet,” Lynch said. “I’ll never be able to wear it again, but I’ll never throw it out because it’s such a great symbol.”

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