When I questioned Rena if she wanted to be a model, and this is the reason she drove from Nebraska to parade around in her bikini on the beach, too, she got upset, and answered; “No. I don’t like what modeling has done to my sisters.”
Rena lived with her grandmother, and not her parents she did not want to talk about. Her sisters grew up with – whom? There was competition. Rena had/has a jealous streak. She is difficult to get along with. I suspect her boyfriend took photos of her on Venice Beach that will remain private. Rena offers in her letter that she is not available to be my “live in muse” . I did not ask her to live with me which suggests SHE considered this. So, she becomes a great muse, and, rejects the one she inspires! This is how muse stories go. You get a glimpse of perfection, just enough, and you are possessed. I never got numbers for her sisters so I could ask them to contribute to my book.
When I came back to California after living in Greenwhich Village for eight months, I got a job at May Company and moved into a studio at the back of a house on Ocean Park Blvd. The year was 1964. I was seventeen. I bought a hawk, and drove the 1958 For Fairlane my uncle Vinnie gave me. I explored Venice that was a mile down the beach but do not recall if I went into the Gas Light.
The house I lived in is the second from the end of the street. My Fairlane was dark and light green like the one on the lower left. This was the life. My boss was going to make me the manager of four art supply stores. Then my ex-girlfriend showed up and bid me to come back to the Bay Area because there was something wonderful going on. She hung with…
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