Meeting The Rose Wing

Yesterday, I met her………My Rose Wing. I pushed away from my computer, and said to myself; “I got to get out of here!”

I got on the EMX and went to downtown Springfield. I wanted to celebrate VOG-Day ‘Victory Over Gossip’. I was proud that I defended myself and wanted to make all of Springfield – MY TOWN! It was a – JAIL BREAK!

The first thing I notice is the new Bicycle store with the greatest fence I ever saw. I got the owner of the building’s number. He is going to clean up the rest of that corner lot, and I want to help. I am going to take pics and make sketches for a proposal.

I then had lunch at the new courtyard. I got three veggie tacos for $5 dollars. I then walked into Tattoo Parlor across the street. I made up a story about why I am going in there. The woman behind the counter was just starting her lunch a bowl of chicken soup she made. I lied to her. I said I hate tattoos but am thinking of getting one. She told me the Artist was out for lunch. I told her I wrote a story called ‘The Rose Wing’. She gave me two books to look at the work of the house artists. We talked about price.

Then I told her about Christine’s art. She went online and we looked at the Rosamond Women that could be tattoos. She agreed, but, told me men are not getting tattoos of beautiful women anymore. I suggested I might have a Rosamond Woman tattoo because I am authoring her biography. We talked about the crime that used to be, and how much the downtown had changed. We talked about some of the bars closing.

“How about the Nudie Bars?”

“A couple have closed but we still got one down here.”

I then headed to the EMX station. I looked up at the Kesey mural, and then saw The Last Nudie Bar’. I thought about going in, then, nixed the idea – till next time. I took two steps and, crossed the street. I passed Ken’s mural which is denuded of women, pulled open the door, parted the black curtain, and, there she was……….The Rose Wing!

She was reclined on a stage about two feet high, so she looked up at me when I passed. We made eye contact. She was doing something sexy with her outstretched leg, but, all my attention fell opon her face.

“My God. She’s beautiful! What is a such a beautiful girl doing in a place like this?”

Flustered about what to do, and where to sit, I sat at the bar – with 30 years of sobriety! My Wing bared her beautiful butt and breasts. The music ended, and I applauded. Coming off the stage, is my New Venus. She takes the stool next to me. My heart is racing. My live-in lover for three years was a stripper in New Orleans. I have not been this close to a woman in a very long time, and moves her face closer. She let’s me take her in.

“Your’re beautiful. I detect Dutch ancestry.”

“You got it! How did you know!”

Ten minutes have passed. I learn she is an artist. I show her a pamphlet asking for entries in the Mayor of Springfield show at the Emerald Arts that has a Simpson mural on it, done by the same folks who did the Kesey mural.

“Have you ever modeled?”

“Yes. Once!”

“Does that work exist? Is it online. Can you show it to me?”

“It exists, but, I can not show it to you. My soul-mate did it, on his arm. He tattooed a portrait of me. I can not show it to you, because the guards shot him in prison. they buried him with my portrait.”

Dear reader: I did not think I would be able to tell you what My Wing told me. I was overcome with chills. I was – shocked. I told Wing where I was twenty minute ago, and what was discussed. Wing told me she knew Her Love since the fourth grade. There were tears. I talked about artistic synchronicity.  I told wing I want to come in and sketch her, just her face. I wanted to fill in her emptiness. She was like an angel with one wing, and will never soar that high again?

“I want to make you and this place part of the Bohemian Scene of Springfield. Did you see the movie ‘The Moulin Rouge?”

“No I haven’t.”

“You look like Marilyn Monroe.”

“I would like to look like Bettie Page.”

I told her I see my first girlfriend, then asked if a tip was appropriate.  I told her I have not had a drink in thirty years. She pointed out she was having a soda, too.

“I understand you are at work, and, this is your profession.”

Then, the woman co-owner approached. She had a gift for The Rose Wing. She was thrilled and happy as she held up a black negligee. I am blown away. I am accepted as a member of the family. I only got insulted when I paid my daughter $900 dollars to be my Trustee. I wanted her to be my muse who would inspired me to complete my books.

It was this morning that I realized Wing looks like Montana Wildhack, but, less chubby. Valerie Perrine was a Las Vegas Showgirl and her mother acted in Earl Carroll Vanities. Valerie has no problem being nude. She played Lennie Bruce’s wife. I know I have met My Next Muse. We will become friends. Then, we will go across the street and I will purchase her a tattoo. It will be of one wing on her shoulder representing the love of her life.

Wing reminds me of Rossetti’s model and muse, Fanny Cornforth. Yesterday, Springfield entered the Bohemian World that I have carved out. I designed the stage! I fought for this stage! I finally got it, why there are no women in Ken’s mural. Women are trouble. Best leave all the trouble – to me!

John Presco 007

Copyright 2018

Praying For Serenity, One Cliche at a Time

Montana Wildhack wears a locket on which is written ye olde adage, “God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom always to tell the difference” (9.33.21). The same words appear framed on Billy’s optometry office wall in Chapter 3, Section 12.

We find this prayer really striking for a couple o’ reasons:

First, the prayer appears in both Billy’s real life and his Tralfamadorian life, strongly hinting that his Tralfamadorian experiences are made up. (Shocker!) He has taken bits and pieces from things he has seen in his daily life and read in science fiction novels to make up a world he wants to live in.

Second, this prayer expresses something profound that Billy is really looking for. He does want to find a way to accept what he cannot change (the past), the courage to change what he can (his current reality), and the wisdom to tell the difference. In a sense, Tralfamadore is all about granting this prayer: the Tralfamadorian belief in unchanging time means nothing can be changed, so there’s Billy’s serenity right there.

And Billy’s abduction gives him perspective on his reality, which allows him to find the courage to tell the world about his new philosophy—to try to change humanity’s sorrow and pain over death. It’s pretty brave to try to change the world.

Note that even though this is a prayer, it’s the Tralfamadorians that grant Billy this new serenity and courage, not God. In this novel, God is strongly associated with the pain of death. Billy’s mother’s crucifix focuses on the agony of the crucifixion, and Kilgore Trout’s two novels about Christ both emphasize his death and its purpose. Billy has seen enough pain and suffering among the innocent in his own life; he doesn’t need Christianity to give him new examples.

Instead of turning to the suffering Christ, Billy looks to space aliens for relief from his misery.

Perrine began her career as a Las Vegas showgirl. She played soft-core pornography actress Montana Wildhack in Kurt Vonnegut‘s Slaughterhouse-Five (1972). Perrine was photographed for a pictorial layout in the May 1972 issue of Playboy, later appearing on the cover in August 1981. She then became the first actress to purposely display herself nude on American television by completely baring her breasts during the May 4, 1973, PBS broadcast of Bruce Jay Friedman‘s Steambath on Hollywood Television Theater. (She was seen taking a shower from the side totally undressed.) Only a few PBS stations nationwide carried the program. Later in 1973, she appeared in the episode “When the Girls Came Out to Play” of the romantic anthology television series Love Story (1973).

In 1975, Perrine was nominated for the Academy Award for Best Actress and the Golden Globe for Best Motion Picture Actress (Drama) and won the Best Actress Award at the Cannes Film Festival for her role as comedian Lenny Bruce‘s wife, stripper Honey Bruce, in Bob Fosse‘s Lenny (1974).

The Rose Wing

The work of Disney Artist, Eyvind Earle, hung in the Rosamond Gallery in Carmel. Eyvind illustrated ‘Sleeping Beauty’.

It is time to promote my muse and the television series she will star in, called

‘The Rose Wing’.

It’s about a Dutch Artist and Model, who moves to Carmel California and opens a gallery and fashion boutique. Right away, Arion Roozmonde is puzzled by the looks her first visitors give her. They wander about, like ghosts.

“Are, you related to Christine? Who gave you permission to paint like her. My God, look at these clothes!”

“Who are you talking about?”


“I am Roozemond!”

I am going to contact Clint Eastwood and see if he will produce  ‘The Rose Wing’ and ‘Victoria Bond’. I see Lara living in Carmel – by the sea!

In 1974 Christine offered to teach me her style so I could be rich and famous, too. There was a mystery artist doing imitation Rosamonds. I can do Arion Roozemond’s paintings that will hang in the set-gallery, that will be famous. Tourists would come watch the shoot. They will want a Roozemond, who signs her work by her first name………..


I want a studio above the gallery. I want Euro Models to fly in. I will pick them up in Greyhaven.  They will be chaperoned by French female foil masters. When someone wants a Arion, they ring a buzzer, and I send one down the dumbwaiter. In fact, I just wrote myself into the series.

I will be Orson Welles, like, running about the courtyard in my fancy bathrobe – guarded by my babes, who ask;

“When are your going to get around to painting us? You’re such a bull-shitter!”

Sondra Locke played Jennifer Spencer, an artist who lives in a house by the sea, in Sudden Impact. I would like Sondra to play an artist who owned a gallery next to Rosamond’s gallery. She fills Arion in, bit, by bit, with very cryptic and surreal language.

The Rose Wing is about the formation of a Guild, that never declares itself such. But, there is a mutual bond that they try to define so that their lives can be real. They agree they are Master Illusionists, who like to get a pay day, but, hey struggle with commercialization, and the idea they had sold their soul to the devil to get where they are. What had become of their spiritual nature they swore they would never allow to be compromised?

There is an antique upright in Roozemond’s gallery. It came with the lease. Though it was slightly out of tune, it brings Arion much solace – and she did not care to analyze, why? When Arion plays, her music floats through the artistic community, like a ghost. There are dark men in the art world. They come here to hide. Arion’s tune, always finds them.

One evening, while Arion was on a ladder hanging some track lighting, she felt a presence watching her. Looking down, she beheld a dapper gentleman with a white beard.

“I am wondering why your gallery has no name, no marquee.”

“That’s because I have not come up with one!”

“May I make a suggestion?”

“Be my guest!”

“How about…………The Rose Wing?”

Arion felt a tingling come up her legs and resonate at the top of her head!”


Arion looked down, and he was gone.


Arion Roozemond worked late into the night accompanied by her large Franz Schubert collection that was the cause of her break-up with her husband, who tolerated Franz.

“He’s sooooooooooo tedious! He never gets to the point. Why the Gestapo adored him, is beyond me. Schubert was too civilized. Where’s the bravado?”

Arion felt her ears glowing the color of steel just taken out of the forge.

“Speaking of getting to the point. Where’s the baby you promised me. Have you ever gotten a woman pregnant?”

Arion left her husband’s dinner plate the way he left it – for a week! She could not believe he stormed out of the house – without a word! Looking at the mold grow on the Bush’s baked beans he loved so dearly, and, the deflated kernels on the con of cob his teeth tore into, Arion had enough! She rose up, grabbed the plate, stomped on the peddle of the garbage can, and let him go!

“Fuck you – too!”

Finally, her master[piece was………


She rendered her Rose Wing on a metal sign that was made to hang on the ornate wrought iron arm that was bolted into the red brick next to the carriage light. She began with one rose then smaller roses grew from those red roses, that tapered down to become wings. She thought about putting words on her marquee, but, it spoke for itself!

“Tattoo! I’ve always wanted a tattoo! The Question is, where to put it?”

Then, another question came to her, that ruined her……Victory? It formed at the core of her being, her very soul. It almost reached her lips, but – she grabbed the ladder and rushed outside.

“I have to stop talking to myself.”

Knowing she was too wound up to go to sleep, Arion put on ‘Rosamunde Air’ and did her Tai Chi……..till the first light, appear.

She did not know she was being watched. When she went outside to breath in the morning air, she suppressed a scream when a white owl flew down from the tree, picked up a mouse in it beak, and flew back into the tree.

Is this a good omen, or bad? Arion did not move her lips, because she thought she saw movement in the shadow.


Jon Presco

Copyright 2018


Gestapo Owned Viennese Art

franz_schubert_by_wilhelm_august_rieder franz_schubert_by_wilhelm_august_rieder_1875moritz_von_schwind_schubertiade_-_markiert_wilhelm_august_rieder

Wilhelm August Rieder (black arrow) among other friends of Franz Schubert at the “Schubertiade”. Drawn by Moritz von Schwind from memory (1868).

I discovered this morning that Dr. Dr. Susanne Konirsch-Granitsch owned a painting of Franz Schubert rendered by his friend Wilhelm August Rieder.  Susanne’s mother is in ‘The Last Audience of the Habsburgs’. I suspect Susanne came to own this painting. Here is an amazing document that catalogues the efforts of the City of Vienna, itself, to return lost art and artifacts to Jewish citizens of this Capitol of European Culture, who had to flee for their lives, leaving works of art behind. The Gestapo owned Susanne’s painting of a famous Composer seen in the images above. From now on I will be contacting my Congressman and Senator to make sure there is a full investigation of how the Schnitzer Museum came to own a work of art that may have been left behind in Vienna when Empress Zita fled from Hitler.

“The Gestapo put the painting in March 1939 when brother of Dr. Susanne Konirsch-Granitsch, RA Dr. Franz Hiller, safe and handed it to the Kunsthistorisches Museum for safekeeping in a vault”

Stefan and I had a long talk two weeks ago. His father was NOT a member of the Nazi Party. The Eins family was given a house in Gretsen that once belonged to Jews. His father went into Russian to conquer the Russians. A bullet passed between his heart and lung.  When he came home at the end of World War Two, he took his infant son by his head, and hung him over a balcony, threatening to drop him. After hearing this two months ago, I pondered what was going through Mr. Ein’s mind. I conclude he was very disappointed Hitler lost the war, and, the Super Race Dream that his child represented. This boy became a living reminder, a symbol of utter failure. All hope is gone. The child must die with Hitler. Jews were murdered in Gretsen where Stefan has a permanent exhibit.österreichische-galerie.html

This child grew up to be a gifted artist who offered to help me restore the Last Audience to the Viennese People who are feeling very threatened right now due to Trump saying NATO is obsolete, and Germany can not be trusted. U.S. tanks are massing on the Russian border as I type.  Stefan is a great promoter of Democracy. As a profound coincidence, I found a news article that says Susanne gave a speech titled “Is a Federated States of Europe Possible?” This question was put forth in September of 1940.

About Royal Rosamond Press

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