In 1970 I took the train cross-country and stopped in Nebraska to ask Rena to marry me, if I detected she may be open to this idea. She wasn’t. Below is a photo of my grandmother, Mary Magdalene Rosamond, who rode on the back of her boyfriend’s motorcycle from Iowa to LA where she worked in the garment district. Mary made hats to support her four beautiful daughters she was extremely proud of. This is our Rose Line. https://rosamondpress.com/2015/12/27/hiding-our-hippies-in-the-art-closet/
One morning at the Harkins home, I asked Rena to put on her make-up so I could see her made-up before I took her home to attend the University of Nebraska. She warned me that would be a mistake, because if she was so gorgeous without make-up, she is going to be ‘The Death’ with it on.
An hour later she comes out of Wanda Harkins bathroom, and we are awe-struck. Rena Victoria had talked me into letting her go from my life, go home to Nebraska so she could attend college. But, now I knew she would take me with her, my soul, my poetic desire, my love of beauty. I would be an empty shell of a man put down in Beauty’s Dungeon, and no man want to go there!
Rena Victoria had captured me, her beautiful lover. I was part of her collection. I was being tortured…
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