Bill, Rena, and Brembe

Alas I am getting to Bill and Rena, my two beautiful Nordic geniuses. Bill Arnold had an I.Q. of a 180. Rena may have surpassed him. Bill was six-foot three, and Rena, five-eleven. At the Laura Dell campground, I couldn’t help but brag. When we were fifteen Bill confessed he kept me away from women. He lost his virginity to his French maid when he was eleven. I lost my virginity when I was twenty to Chris whom I camped with on Tam, after her boyfriend, and my best friend, became jealous.

“Would you look at her, Bill. The most beautiful woman in the world is sitting across the picnic table from me – where you used to sit!”

Suffering from low self-esteem, I took myself out of that seat, and put Bill there. I didn’t deserve to bond with either of them. They were meant for one another, but for the fact Bill killed himself on my eighteenth birthday. I could not save him. None of us could. His sister would tell me twenty years later her father beat her brother almost every day. He tortured him. He would force my childhood friend to sit in a cold bath at 6:00 A.M. with the window open. Brian Arnold was not an alcoholic. What was his condition?

In no time I conclude Rena is broken, damaged like Bill was. I’m on another rescue mission. Why me? Who is going to rescue me? Feelings of being unworthy is a huge part of being a victim of abuse. Deep down Rena may have believed she did not deserve me. I was so ethereal, and sensitive. I was in touch with my feminine side.

Bill was a wonderful artist. Rena is still my beautiful muse, that is eventually going to bring out the best in both of us. Christine, Bill, Rena, and myself, have suffered for our art. Together we created an artistic and literary dynasty that demands to be recognized for our sacrifices. Our struggle to be true to the self that was, and still is, buried under a mountain of self denial, can only be told by those who suffered, and still suffer. Stacey Pierrot, and her ghost writer had destroyed much. They don’t deserve a dime, or any praise.

In an hour I am going to go pick up my cat, Brembe, at the vets. He got beat up. Doctor B assumed Doctor B was a female cat because he looks very effeminate, like I used to look. Brembe is a lover and a fighter. I can’t keep him indoors. His testicles were removed in the last two hours. I am not sure if this will work. For two weeks we have been taking walks around the block.

I was having bad bleeding incidents using a catheter. Brembe was there for me. My family was not. Not once did my daughter call me while I received radiation treatment for prostate cancer. She chose to play The Denial For Money Game.

I will post videos of Brembe helping count pills, and taking a pee when I do. We even pooped together. Dr. Brembe is making sure I have enough food – and love! He is my co-author. He helps me in my isolation. He let’s me know I deserve help, and, I deserve a friend.

I know Bill looked down on Rena and I by the waterfall.  He admired how I handled such a beautiful being and soul. He knew we deserved each other, and the beauty we made, and gave, to one another.

I am still working on Rena’s portrait. By posting it unfinished, I see I must raise the right brow just a touch.

When I graduated from the New Hope Program at Serenity Lane in 1997, in my aftercare package were written these words;

“Write! Write! Write!

Writing is therapy to me. I give so much away for free, because so much inside is still held prisoner. I fear I will be ripped off. For this reason I weigh whether or not to tell you what is going on in the top photograph. We are in the sunroom on San Sebastian. There is a old phonograph with mike that Mark put an extension on. For Christine’s fifteenth birthday, we placed the our old RCA on the ledge, then opened the window wide. We lowered the mike to a young man who wanted to sing to the two hundred people below. As the sun began to set, these words echoed in the canyon. He sounded just like Elvis.

Brembe is working me as I type. He wants to go outside and play. He has to stay in a week, until he heals!

Pierrot tried to buy the original Rosamond that Priscilla Presley owns. She bought it at the Westwood Art Festival in 1972. It was the first time Christine had the courage to show her work. They wanted to make prints of it, and have a million people own this image – for a price. Priscilla knows exploitation when she sees it. Why didn’t Sydney Morris? Morris, Pierrot, and Snyder knew they did not own Christine’s permission to do what they did. You can’t leave your Twelve Step Program to someone – after you die – so they can make money! Team Morris did all they could to oppress my recovery story, and, destroy any platform I might have. This is highly unethical! This is new kind of fraud perpetrated in the name of the No. 1 creditor, Larry Chazen, a partner in PlumpJack, with Gavin Newson, and his father.

“CEO Mark Jackson’s departure was announced in a short statement by the company, offering no details as to why he was leaving after less than a year on the job. Lawrence Chazen, a Noble board member, told Dow Jones Newswires the CEO was resigning for “personal reasons” unrelated to a potential takeover.”

When we were sixteen and seventeen, Christine and I were interviewed by our prospective landlady. We posed as husband and wife. Christine pleaded with me to get her away from our mother who was severely abusing her. When my sister pointed out the bookcases  next to the fireplace were like the ones we had growing up, this woman fought back tears.

A couple on months later I shoved Rosemary in the closet, and told her I would kill her if she came out. She had two fists-full of Christine’s hair she had just ripped out of her head. The next day I quit my job at May Co. and hitchhiked to New York, January 15, 1963.

When Rena told me she was skipped a grade because she was an A+ student, I busted her.

“You’re seventeen, aren’t you? You lied to me about your age.”

The age of consent in Nebraska is seventeen, and eighteen in California. Everything changed between us. I now had another sister. Bill came to live with us on San Sebastian when he was sixteen after his father threw him out. I had gone to see him one morning, and his room was in disorder. Things were broken, They heavy metal bedpost, was bent.

“Bill. Why don’t you fight back? You’re as big as he is?”

I heard about Bill before I met him, from a friend.

“There’s this new boy in school. He was playing football with his shirt off. There were welts all over his back.”

The idea that Rena was beaten like this, and rendered a recluse, a veritable prisoner in her lifetime, is almost more than I can handle.

I saw Christine at the side of the home, I had no more. She said;

“Take me with you. Don’t leave me with the monster!”

So, here is is, the abused souls that made an Art Dynasty in spite of the terror they experienced. Then, it was sold to Outside Liars&Monsters, who abused us some more! The adult heir, Shannon Rosamond was bullied by powerful lawyers, and gave up. She should have been afforded a ghost writer to help tell our family story. Instead, we were sold into slavery. The abuse we suffered was going to be USED to make non-sufferers – MONEY!

Keep in mind it is much easier for outsiders to appear calm and sane – especially when they got the best lawyers on their team – who are going to lunch with the Trespassers – and letting them know the outcome. The proceeds of the book is not going to my nieces! Morris ‘The Nazi’  puts our family grief and suffering in the same category as “office supplies”. His law firm handles the Buck Foundation, that funds ‘Alcohol Justice’.  The Art Law Book they put on the market, lists the grievances of the business people. They are given the right to tell their side of the story, and, to prove how good they are, they get a second shot – and a book – that they could not give away! THEY FAILED! Office machines are not people!

Jon Presco

Copyright 2017

https://rosamondpress.com/2015/05/20/lawrence-chazen-creates-swiss-tax-haven-2/

 

ENTREPRENEURIAL PARTNERS
Members of Gavin Newsom’s wine, restaurant, bar, resort and real estate partnerships since 1991:
Kevin & Bronwyn Brunner, John Burton, Casey and Michelle Cadwell, Bob and Barbara Callan, Frank Caufield, Donna Chazen, Lawrence Chazen, Joe & Victoria Cotchett, Michael & Hilary Decesare, Philip DeLimur, Don Dianda, Gretchen Dianda, Edward Everett, Richard Freemon, James Fuller, Stanlee Gatti, Robert Gerry, Andrew Getty, Ann Getty, Anna Getty, Chris Getty, Gordon Getty, Mark Getty, Peter Getty, Ronald Getty, Tara Getty, William “Billy” Getty, Robert Goldberg, Florianne Gordon, Stu Gordon, Gordon Goletto, David Goodman, Arthur Groza, Richard & Martha Guggenhime, Tony and Anthony Guilfoyle, Shelly Guyer, James & Shea Halligan, Bob & Jill Hamer, Erin Howard, Thomas Huntington, Isolep Enterprises (Paul and Nancy Pelosi family personal investment company), Peter Jacobi, Gaye Jenkins, Jeffrey Kanbar, Chad Kawai, David Lamonde, John Larson, Rob Lavoie, Leavitt/Weaver interior designers, Marc Leland, Maryon Davies Lewis, Anne McCutcheon, Chris McCutcheon, Ross McGowan, Rich McNally, Robert & Carole McNeil, Paul Mohun, Robert Mohun, Jeff Morin, Sara Moughan, Terry Moughan, Brian Mueth, Bob Naify, Marshall Naify, John Nees, Barbara Newsom, Brennan Newsom, Catherine & David Newsom, Gavin Newsom, Patrick Newsom,
Tessa Newsom, William Newsom, John O’Hara, Jack Owsley, Pacific Design, Matt Pelosi, Robynne Piggott, James Samuel Powers, Elizabeth Rice, Jeremy Scherer, Paul Scherer, Gary Schnitzer, Steve & Theresa Selover, Steve Siino, Trevor Traina, Chris Vietor, Francesca Vietor, Kenneth Weeman, Nicki West, Justin & Aridne Williams, Kevin Williams, Thomas & Kiyoko Woodhouse

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About Royal Rosamond Press

I am an artist, a writer, and a theologian.
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