I made the mistake of telling my daughter, Heather Hanson, and her mother, Patrice Hanson, about the very wealthy man who gave me a menacing look at Christine’s funeral. I was standing next to my mother greeting the guests. He was very cordial to Rosemary, but refused to shake my hand. Instead, I got a dirty and threatening look.
“Did you see the look he gave you?” my mother asked.
“How could I miss it.”
“He’s a very wealthy and powerful man.”
I believe this was Sande Green’s husband. My niece Shannon Rosamond, told me Sande lived in that house at Rocky Point, but, I believe she rented it whenever she came to town. I believe she invited Rosamond to come celebrate her first sober birthday there.
On page 152 of ‘When You Close Your Eyes’ by Tom Snyder, he records his interview with Sande Green.
”Christine and I met while I was still with my husband.” Sande says, “who had a mural painted by Garth Benton, together with some Rosamond originals. But one of our favorite
places to go – my husband had a private jet that could take us anywhere in the world – was the Monterey Peninsula. We’d fly in whenever we wanted, a limousine would pick us up, and we’d hang out for a few days.
On a trip to Pebble Beach in 1991, my husband mentioned some friends with a new gallery in Carmel, and it would be nice to visit with them. When the four of us met in the lobby, I was struck by two things about Christine: she smiled easily, and she was very quiet. That didn’t surprise me, because my husband’s wealth could be very intimidating.”
I believed our miracle was so powerful, so full of light, that this mother and daughter were above temptation. But, I caught them inching their way to the door that read;
“The Golden Fame Money Room”
How could they stay away! I was a loser, going up against all these rich and powerful people, the kind of people the Hanson’s came in contact with in Sonoma. Patrice raised her daughter to be a ‘Smoozer of the Rich’. She danced up to them and asked for money. This sixteen year old ‘Rooting Hog’ came to believe she would be given money and a ticket to fame and glory, if she betrayed her father ‘The Troublemaker’.
This MINOR was tempted by adults, thanks to the evil work of executor Sydney Morris who destroyed the Weston Legacy. Vicki Presco told me Morris combed my letters I sent to him in hope of finding a “death threat”. He wanted to title me ‘Dangerous and Insane’. He conspired to destroy my reputation, while exalting Stacey Pierrot who is guilty of Art forgery. They did lunch together. I will be sending a complaint to the California Bar Association. Morris mocked my spirituality and spiritual program of AA. He has rich and powerful clients. His boss was a Buck.
Pierrot hires Ghost Writer, Tom Snyder, who takes over our family story from Sandra Faulkner who disappears on Sydney’s watch. Snyder says my grandfather wrote ‘The Squaw Man’ that Cecil B. Demille made into a movie. Wrong! All he had to do was go to google! Here is the truth…….
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Squaw_Man_(1914_film)
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Star_Film_Company
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wolf_House
Here is a photograph of George Sterling, Mary Austin, Jack London and Jimmie Hopper, on the beach at Carmel-by-the-Sea. These Bohemians founded one of the most important creative Mecca’s in the world. Here the actress and artist, Gloria Stuart came to live.
Above are two photos taken at General Vallejo’s house. I told my daughter he cousin’s kin are kin to John Fremont whose men captured this beautiful house. Not liking history, she was not impressed. She was impressed by how much money her aunt had after she married the old drunken millionaire.
“My aunt Linda is a Gold Digger!” she proudly told me.
I have contacted an attorney about Fremont’s mines. Consider the movie ‘The Magic Christian’. Trump knows most white folks will do anything for a dollar, even betray their principles and country. I think Trump entered the race in order to write a book.
“A group of rebellious Americans had departed from Frémont camp on June 10 and captured a herd of 170 Mexican government-owned horses being moved by Californio soldiers from San Rafael and Sonoma to Alta California’s Commandante General José Castro in Santa Clara.[26] The insurgents next determined to seize the weapons and materiel stored in the Sonoma Barracks and to deny Sonoma to the Californios as a rallying point north of San Francisco Bay.[27]
Bear Flag monument in Sonoma
Meeting no resistance, they approached Comandante Vallejo’s home and pounded on his door. After a few minutes Vallejo opened the door dressed in his Mexican Army uniform. [28] Vallejo invited the filibusters’ leaders into his home to negotiate terms. However, when the agreement was presented to those outside they refused to endorse it.”
No artist in history has suffered for his, or her art, like I have. These un-creative ‘Rooting Hogs’ are the authors of this evil dark story. Hogs like them should be kept out of the Art World – and exposed!
When my grandson, Tyler Hunt, were doing a painting together, Patrice Hanson, looked on with disgust. This goes back to our conversation at the ruins of Jack London’s Wolf House where I told my wife to be my families creative legacy was falling into the hands of outsiders the same way London’s legacy came to be owned by hostile outsiders. I told Patrice I am authoring a biography, and my rivals are inventing lies in their biogrphy of my famous sister, Rosamond. All of a sudden, Patrice says;
“Are you saying our daughter got all her talent from you?”
I got angry, for this woman, who had two sons by two fathers, did not allow me to be a father for sixteen years, and did her damnedest to have Heather believe she got all her gufts from her utterly un-gifted mother, who never was an artist, poet, or, writer. Patrice and her family are the people the Seer saw that come into my being and take – via my newborn daughter who Patrice put in the arms of famous parasite convicted of impersonating Bob Weir – twice!
In the photographs of Tyler, I see the return of Randy Delpiano, the Con Man Performer and Imposter.
Patrice had taken a lot of LSD and owns visions of he being the angelic earth-goddess mother who brings angels to earth via the birth-process. Children are her creations, examples of her divine work. The fathers of these children do not matter because they are earth-bound brutes, like her alcoholic father who caused her schizophrenic mother to jump off a cliff and killer herself. Patrice’s sister and brother have no children due to the extreme abuse in their home.
In Chicago, Patrice fell in love with a Black Panther, and had a son by him. This son named his son after Malcome X. Malcome is my grandson’s half-cousin. This panther died in a fire. He was close with Angela Davis who spread the message that back people should arm themselves, and overthrow white tyranny.
Patrice, and thus Heather, was not impressed with my genealogical study, because my tree is full of white people. However both were extremely interested in the world famous artist, Rosamond, and her success, because heather was destined to be famous one day, and give her mother a million dollars so alas she could live the life-style she deserves. As for me living thru my only child in a vicarious manner, and being inspired to paint and write by my child, this was frowned upon. However, Tom Snyder, the rival biographer, is more then welcome to paint a beautiful portrait of the Madonna and Child – minus the shit-seed of the junk-filled hell-fathers!
When I received my first (typed) letter from my newfound sixteen year old daughter, I took it to my friend, Ed Corbin, who mastered in Literature at Harvard, and was an editor at Double Day. Seconds after reading The Good News, Ed said;
“Your daughter did not write this letter.”
Ed employed his high education to explain the examples of third party removed. I was in shock when I reread MY letter, that was not really mine. This narcissistic piece of shit could not allow her Star Child to fully by my child – too! There was THEIR HIDDEN AGENDA to be fulfilled that I am not privy to. I will always be THE OUTSIDER. However, Divine Mother and Child have got to get in BOTH books, and get all the wealth the Rosamond Gallery holds for them, because, it is THEIR DESTINY to own this wealth – minus the gross jack-off earth father who is guided by his sick penis, only!
Having read Grimm’s I saw my daughter’s mother as a evil green witch lurking in the dark, stirring her enmeshed pot of lost identities. Only Witch Patrice gets to be a whole person, the complete package. Only Patrice is worthy to CONTROL ALL THE INFORMATION. Here is the real RIVAL AUTHOR! When Belle Burch pulled the same witchy transference on me, and when Witch Valkyrie threatened to destroy me, and see that I am harmed if I fight back, I had to consider the two of them were in it together. CONSPIRACY!
That Belle and Alley empowered themselves via LOST THROWAWAY CHILDREN, is also out of a Fairytale. Consider Peter Pan – and Dickens. These homeless people who need SLEEP, do not want to grow up. They did not want to obey their parents or clean their rooms. They just wanted to TAKE what belongs to others, and, have others TAKE care of them – because we all OWE THEM. They DESERVE what we got. WE don’t deserve what we got. THEY WILL HURT US!
For the last several days, reporters all over the world are openly discussing how Muslims in Europe are feeling DISINFRANCHISED, and thus will become RADICALIZED, get a weapon, and MURDER UNARMED PEOPLE. These parasitical cowards do not want to go up against ARMED PEOPLE. Why is that? They want to stop average people from enjoying what they have, what they worked for. They want people to be afraid and think of the TERRORISTS all the time, and what they don’t have. These are not Robin Hoods. These are dangerous people whose prophet and god does not make them happy, like the prophet and god of those who HAVE!
* * *
Both my father and my childhood friend, Bill, emulated the author Jack London, whose writing appeared in the same periodicals as my grandfather, Royal Rosamond. The rival authors did not know this. They did not know ANYTHING, yet, they elected themselves THE MORE DESERVED! My brother allowed the takers to come and take from the Creative Family Pile because he thinks very little of Artists and Poets. His main concern is ‘The Parasites of the World’. Almost everyone is a parasite, but Mark.
After Wolf House burned down, Jack and his wife struggled the keep ‘Beauty Ranch’ going. After Jack was dead, Charmain fought off the parasites who wanted to take Jack’s work that was in DEFAULT, and liquidate it. I had read plaques of this struggle. I was dismayed as I sat with Patrice and beheld the ruins of Wolf House and London’s Dream. I told Patrice how after Christine’s funeral, Stacey Pierrot got down on one knee in front of the Rosamond Gallery, took my mother’s hand, and said;
“Don’t let the Dream die!”
“It was not her Dream!” I told my fiancé, who looked distracted. I could not read what was going on her mind. I pressed her as we ate our packed lunch at a picnic table. This is when she accused me of excluding her CONTRIBUTIONS! I proposed to this mother of my daughter, who I wanted to own my name and not the name of a Infamous Imposter. I wanted them both to be in MY FAMILY TREE. What I didn’t understand, was, I was dealing with a out of control Narcissist, that had to have it all, and, I had come between her and her NARCISSTIC SUPPLY. In two months Patrice would disappear our child – with the help of all members of her family, who could care less about MY FAMILY TREE.
What I had done wrong was MAKE IT REAL. I WOKE Patrice from her fantastic dream story that she wove around Heather. She saw that I owned all THE REAL POWER, and thus needed the rival author fully in her camp. This is why she tried to convince me in a e-mail that two books would be better. Do you see it? This DEMON typed a letter to me and had my daughter apply her name. Peirrot petitioned the Probate Court for an Estate Seal so she could apply it to unsigned Rosamond lithographs, and give them the same worth as the signed work. This is right out of Big Eyes, that exposes the narcissistic personality disorder of Walter Keane.
http://echorecovery.blogspot.com/2013/08/tactics-narcissistic-personality-disorder-mother.html
The Rosemondts owned Wolf House in Brambant, and were part of a restoration of Frankish rule in theat area, which suggests they might be descended from Merovingians. One author connects them to the Knight Templars and the Holy Grail in a speculative manner. J.R. Tolkein was inspired by the book Wolfen written by the Pre-Raphaelite William Morris. In 1969 I emulated the Pre-Raphaelite style and philosophy that in turn inspired my late sister, Christine Rosamond Benton. We were the New Pre-Raphaelite Brother and Sister, as well as Brother and Sister in Alcoholics Anonymous, where we shared out stories. I told Patrice no outsider can tell OUR SOBER STORY. I told this mother that I wrote the executor and told him he can not sell our Program to others so they can realized a prophet. Patrice could not see herself, and our daughter, as an INSIDER, because they had come for THE FREE FOR ALL!
In Snyder’s book he repeats the secret of Rosamond’s success. Rosamond cut out images of models in fashion magazines, and projected them on a canvas – without the permission of the model. When I discovered this projector Christine asked me for help – because she did not feel like a real artist. I will ask Lara Roozemond for permission to use her photos, and if she will model for me. She might do this for free in order to enrich her portfolio.
As a real artist, and as a man, father, and grandfather, I have formed complex bonds with real beautiful women. Christine did not. I am no longer going to let vain and selfish women near me and my work. I don’t need the heartbreak, and, the dark image they give me.
Jon Presco
Copyright 2014
In an essay called “The House Beautiful”, written in 1906 and published in his 1909 book Revolution and Other Essays, London described his ideal “dream house”. He wrote that “Utility and beauty must be indissolubly wedded” and said the house must be “honest in construction, material and appearance”. He described modern bathrooms, spacious and well-appointed servant’s quarters, easy cleaning and maintenance, good ventilation and ample fireplaces. He predicted that he would build his dream house in seven to ten years.
George Sterling prepares for the performance of The Triumph of Bohemia at the Bohemian Grove, Sonoma County, c. 1907
photo: City Lights Books, San Francisco, CA
Though once hailed by Ambrose Bierce as the future “poet of the skies, prophet of the suns,” the San Francisco poet George Sterling is no longer read, even locally. Yet among California writers and poets, a peculiar affection still remains for the original Poet Laureate of San Francisco, despite his being remembered more for his personality than for his verse.
A recent tour of local bookstores, including several regional collections, turned up a single out-of-print play at a price only curators would consider. It is an interesting position: to have become, in the words of Kevin Starr, “tragically passé,” yet to have the few books you did publish sell at prices that rival your most successful contemporaries. For a person who was compared to Spenser, Milton and Keats during his lifetime, the hype is not all that surprising.
Despite his modest poetic talent, Sterling was a truly charismatic figure, able to charm artists and patrons alike. This, combined with backing by Ambrose Bierce, a manic ambition, and (it didn’t hurt) a classical aquiline profile, quickly established him as a poet of great promise. Nicknamed “The Greek” by his friend Jack London, he frequently appeared decorated with laurels at the Bohemian Club‘s yearly Russian River festivals — christened ‘Midsummer Jinks’ — for which he was soon composing grove plays, including The Triumph of Bohemia and A Forest Play. It was these plays that were later anthologized, becoming the novelty pieces now occasionally found in city bookstores at appropriately decadent prices.
Virtually every literary circle in the Bay Area between 1895 and 1925 could count Sterling a member, if not a congregating force. The Piedmont crowd, which included Jimmy Hopper, Jack London, Jim Whitaker, Blanche Partington, Xavier Martinez and Austin Lewis, knew the Sterlings’ villa as their most popular meeting site. After Sterling and his wife Carolyn moved to Carmel in 1905— initially to escape the social distractions of the city—the artists and writers followed. By 1907 a colony had formed, with Sterling again playing host, his plans for writing vanishing in favor of seaside abalone hunts and evenings of performance, recitation and consumption. An austere Upton Sinclair, who joined the colony in 1909 expecting to find an industrious group of fellow socialists, was so taken aback by what he deemed dissipation that he left after three months.
Photographs of the period were very often group shots, with Sterling and his entourage sporting clubs, Greek gowns, and other fanciful costumes; or fantasy portraits, such as one of the critic Porter Garnett, naked except for artificial horns and a goatee, squatting on a hillside at one of the Bohemian Jinks. Although there is strong possibility that “[Sterling] had portraits taken of himself in the nude or near-nude, striking classical stances,” (Starr, p.277) the closest we have is Sterling in a grove of redwoods, posing before two oversize paintings of himself in a toga, his hand on a bust of William Shakespeare.
It was arguably this flirtation with symbolic roles that gave the bohemians, and George Sterling in particular, their contemporary attraction. Unfortunately, the bohemians themselves were not always up to the symbolic roles they elected to assume. After the identities were hastily affirmed by a community impatient to recognize its great minds, many artists came to believe the illusion of their audience, with the predictable relaxation of output.
It wasn’t that George Sterling was fundamentally misguided, or that his enthusiastic group of followers lacked sustainable talents, but the enchantment of California, and especially San Francisco, seemed to tempt artists into premature self-congratulation. As Kevin Starr observes:
San Francisco’s isolation might give rise to a splendid originality, but it could also lead to narcissism and a self-justifying tolerance for the third-rate the soothing critical climate, as well as the sunshine, was in danger of filling up San Francisco with poseurs, unchallenged by circumstances of discernment. Bohemia often concealed a colossal idleness. (Starr, p.260)
Although there were certainly exceptions–Mary Austin for example, continued to produce plays, anthropological studies, and novels until late in life– individuals of the period had a tendency to concentrate on the social aspects of being writers and artists to the detriment of their work.
At Coppa‘s, the bohemian rendezvous on the famed Montgomery Block in San Francisco, Sterling’s lines, “the blue-eyed vampire, sated at her feast / Smiles bloodily against the leprous moon” were inscribed on the wall-length mural, his name beside such immortals as Dante, Goethe and Rabelais. In the same restaurant, writer Isabel Fraser is said to have mounted a ladder and been christened “Queen of Bohemia” to the applause of the assembled “Coppans.”
In time, one could find the names, quotes or sketches of most notable local artists on the wall alongside the acknowledged masters. One quote was by Nora May French, a flamboyant journalist and poet, who once remarked famously over lunch, “I have an idea that all sensible people will ultimately be damned.” It turned out to be a prophetic statement. One year after the 1906 earthquake destroyed Coppa’s and its ambitious mural, Nora May French swallowed poison at Carmel-by-the-Sea, beginning a trend of self-destruction among the bohemian generation.
Sterling himself was the culmination of the trend, and his suicide by ingestion of cyanide in 1926 was perhaps the archetypal response to the city’s turn-of-the-century bohemianism. As the unofficial Poet Laureate of San Francisco, Sterling was visible, social, yet discreetly dissolute. To many he embodied the heart of the Bay Area literary scene, and his death, the final and most publicized suicide associated with the San Francisco art scene, lent a grim legitimacy to the fate of his precursors, including: Nora May French (cyanide, 1907); Jack London (morphine, 1916); Carolyn Sterling (cyanide, 1918); David Lezinsky (gunshot, 1921); Richard Reaf (poison, 1922); and Herman Sheffauer (defenestration, 1926).
Nonetheless, in San Francisco today, the myth of Sterling still survives. In Golden Gate Park, the city maintains a George Sterling Glade. And Robinson Jeffers, the great Californian poet who took up residence in Carmel after the colony disbanded, called Sterling “the sweetest voice of the iron age,” composing a memorial poem and prose retrospective on his death. For William Everson, another influential California poet, Sterling possessed something of “the accessibility of a saint,” arguing that “despite the record, one ventures to believe him a truly beautiful spirit.” (Everson, 63-4)
Although he may have fallen short of his poetic goals, Sterling was by all reports sincere in his efforts to represent a regional identity. In a young city “ever unsure of its exact relationship to the great world,” (Starr, p.254) he was willing to risk a dynamic aesthetic role. That one was due is perhaps no better demonstrated than by how readily, if precipitously, the community claimed him as their own and glorified his accomplishments.
FURTHER READING:
Everson, William. Archetype West. Oyez Press, 1976.
Ferlinghetti, Lawrence and Nancy Peters. Literary San Francisco. Harper and Row, 1980.
Garnett, Porter. The Bohemian Jinks, A Treatise. San Francisco, 1908.
Gullette, Alan. A George Sterling Page.
Saunders, Richard. Ambrose Bierce: The Making of a Misanthrope. Chronicle Books, 1985.
Starr, Kevin. Americans and the California Dream 1850-1915. Oxford University Press, 1973.
Walker, Franklin. The Seacoast of Bohemia, an Account of Early Carmel. San Francisco, 1966.
Rosamond Press 
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