Kim Hafner, really tried to hurt me by saying I had no friends, here, on Cellblock K. An hour ago, our neighbor called. She was at Aunt Bertie’s house. Alberta is 94. She used to live here. I responded by saying I never saw a man come to – her door! She said the same goes for me. I said;
“You missed her. Marilyn was here three days ago!”
This sounds just like prison talk, where there is no privacy. I saw some of my moves in the Flashdance clip. I would leave my partner and prance in a 20 foot circle around her. This is 1962. I danced 20 minutes in front of a mirror before I went to school and a half hour when I got home. I wanted to dance like a maniac. Fifty students would form a circle around, us, and clap to the rhythm. This, is Oakland High School.
I have loved. And, I have lost. But, I always danced……….with love! If you can’t dance like a maniac, with love – don’t go onto the dance floor. If you can’t love a woman with passion, don’t get in her bed!
I was a Trailblazer!
When Marilyn turned sixteen, I danced the Bolero for her. I was poor. I could not afford a gift. I would listen to this beautiful music with my eyes closed, visualizing my moves. I used to play this music to the painting of Jesus I did, I seeing him march out of the wilderness towards the place where humanity dwell, but, he never arrives. Marilyn, was the love of my life. We put this large painting over her bedroom window, the yellow ochre sky and the black sun, illuminated, my dusty, dusty bearded man, his inner journey, his fathomless soul – intercepted.
Today, Marilyn turns sixty five. On this day I give to you the Bolero, a younger man dances, but, my soul will forever be younger, because there was you, my beloved audience, the only audience I ever need.
On her sixteenth birthday, 1963, I brought the love of my life into my bedroom on Glendale, put a LP on the player, took off my shirt, and for over eighteen minutes, I danced the Bolero for her. I rehearsed for a week. I had no money to buy her a gift. Not very many women have ever received such a gift.
After school, I would come home, put on the Bolero, look at my painting of Jesus coming out of the wilderness, then walk in his shoes with my eyes closed. I never heard of meditating. I wondered what I would do, what I would say to begin my ministry. I did not see myself as a Christian. Marilyn’s older brother asked me if I meditated in 1963.
When Marilyn gave the ‘The Last Temptation of Jesus Christ’ to read, I went into a trance when I read how Mary Magdalene as a child of four climbed these stairs to find Jesus, and on the stoop they lie there touching the souls of their feet together.
Marilyn is convinced I was the seven year old boy named Greg who went to her school for several months, and, then he was gone. I lived with my grandmother, Mary Magdalene Rosamond, in LA after my father sent me away. Marilyn said she wanted to give me a bath the moment she lay eyes on me. Two months after we met, she gave me a bath. I got naked in the tub and watched her go into a trance as she washed me with a soft white cloth. I would come to call her “My Mary Magdalene.”
God gave me many gifts. I could have become a great dancer. God gave me too many gifts, and too many beautiful women to love. The Last Gift was the one He truly intended for me, and I will show you that gift.
Greg at seventeen
Marilyn’s high school photo
Marilyn at my wedding reception
Marilyn and her friend, Jayne Marie Mansfield, Playboy model
Marilyn modeling at twelve
Marilyn at Santa Monica
Marilyn and her mother
Marilyn was good friends of Maggie Thrett and made clothes for her. Marilyn modeled for Steven Silverstein who did several shoots of Carla Bruni who was the Frist Lady of France. Marilyn was a good friend of the Silverstein family.