“Christine’s mother, Rosemary, forbade Christine to draw at home. The only time she could express herself was at school or in her closet, by flashlight, when everyone else was asleep.”
What did I do wrong that made grandma treat me so bad? Why did she try to hurt my feelings? Alas, on Vicki’s Birthday, the truth can be told. Take a good look at this photo. Who is in the background, and who is in the foreground? Who looks bigger, me or Mark? Who looks smaller? Who appears to be happy? Who is imitating his father’s dumb-ass look? Who is also wearing a stupefied look? Who is Vic embracing? Vic never touched me.
Why? I am dominating my brother in everyway. Vic only wanted one child. This looks very bad for my father’s neo-Nazi belief system. He wishes I was never born. I am making him and his only son, look bad. This is why he told everyone I was not his son, including my sisters. Did he ever say this to Rosemary – while they were married?
But, what is truly astounding is the lie that Rosemary forbid Christine to “draw at home”. Huh?! I have read a lot of artist’s bios, and never heard of such a thing. Our mother allowed Christine to draw at school? Huh? This the greatest SMEAR of an artist’s mother -in the history of art! How dare they! These are outsiders – who Rosemary backed against my wishes! Is this how they repaid her? What treachery! Outrageous! It’s not even true!
Art is the truth!
For your edification, study this image. Who looks very busy and pre-occupied with what they are doing. That’s me, with my hand and fingers in the dirt. Why? Because I a creating! I am making something from nothing! I was forever creating something. I was always going forward, driven by a creative energy very few are born with. See my parents watching me? Do you see Mark sitting in the tub, watching me? How about Christine, is she watching what I am doing?
Look how intimidated Mark is. He goes to his mommy to be comforted. He feels very threatened. Vic is forced to look at me. He is not happy, nor is his mother, when she sees how dominated her favorited grandson is – by the second born! This is why Melba paid special attention to Mark. She accused Rosemary of being a bad mother. This is not how the order of German things, go!
Look at Vicki. She is getting special attention from her mother. Something is wrong with Vicki, too. Notice how I don’t look like my siblings. Why is that? It has to do with genetics. I got a shitload of my grandfather’s genetic material. I never met Royal Rosamond. Rosemary would tell me I am just like him. She was four when she last saw him. He never met his son-in-law.
Let’s look at that top photo again. According to Julie Lynch, who wrote a movie script about Christine, for the last three years my sister has been hiding in the closet doing very advanced drawings – by flashlight! No one knows – but Rosemary? Vic and Rosemary both don’t know? If Rosemary knew, why didn’t she tell Rosamond’s father? I can say I never saw one of her drawings. So, is this TRUE, or, is this a LIE?
Here is my club ‘The Cheetahs’ . I formed them, and was their leader. There was no end to the creative and inventive play that poured from my being. My men were amazed, as were all the adults in the neighborhood. That’s me on the left.
One day Mark came up to me and said;
“I’m taking over the Cheetah’s. I’m their leader now!”
I went and told my men, Mark was now their leader. They were shocked. For two days my brother led us in play, and into battle. On the third day, they came up to me when Mark was not around, and said;
“We don’t want your brother to be our leader. Unless you lead us again. We are going to quit the Cheetah’s!”
When Mark showed up, I said this in front of my men.
‘No one likes you. You are no longer the leader. And you can never play with us again!”
And that was the end of Melba and Vic’s superman experiments on me – and my men!
FUCK YOU – MARK – where ever you are. Who gives a flying-fuck, you mean-spirited Nazi runt!
To the firing squad with him!
Here is the clincher. I love this photograph. It should be in the Smithsonian.
‘Mother, and daughter-in-law’
Melba wanted her son to marry mellow Sally Clean Jeans, Roseville Hayseed, with an I.Q. under a hundred. Instead she got a High-strung Shrew of a Woman that worked in Naval Intelligence, and had an I.Q. that was off the charts. Melba wanted a daughter-in-law she could dominate, and get her to perform many chores for her, including mowing the lawn. She had to be a good baker, too. Melba made pies and cookies all day for Butterball. I think I see Murder in my mother’s eyes. What is Vic looking at? This is what our home looked like………BEFORE ART!
Melba can’t stand the idea that Rosemary may have fucked Errol Flynn. Melba saw I had my mothers features – ad hated me too! I was way to clever – and creative! She wanted a German salt of the earth grandson. Mark was genetically manufactured to be this – in theory only!
Vic’s expression – speaks volumes! This image is the real horror and terror I felt around these people. I began to paint my way out of hell. Christine followed in my footsteps, and picked up a brush when she was twenty-three.
Today I talked with a Trillium agent about getting into therapy with a person that understands the dynamic of a dysfunctional and creative family – that produced two artists, one of them world famous. There is so much fraud around Christine’s success, and Vicki contributed much to it. I can fix this. I have just shown you how. It’s called…….
TELLING THE TRUTH.
I choose to believe Vicki Presco is in a place where only the truth can reach her. If she could, she would put an end to this evil charade – for my sake! Because, it has taken everything from me, including my daughter and grandson. These evil lies have unborn me. The truth can set my dear surviving sister free. She can, if she could, give me new life so I can tell……….Our True Story!
President: Royal Rosamond Press
Stacey Pierrot hired Julie Lynch to author another book about my late sister, Christine Rosamond. Pierrot employs most of the beautiful images Rosamond rendered in her lifetime that my nieces now have the copyright to. Pierrot captured these mages when she captured my nine year old niece, while at the same time rejecting my niece Shannon, who was a 28 year old ADULT when her mother drowned. Drew being a child was employed by Belford and Pierrot as the reason they had to intervene and become Drew’s CARETAKER, so she could realize monies from the sale of Rosamond prints. Shannon Rosamond tried to run the gallery, but Garth Benton’s attorney made Shannon’s attorney out to be dangerous and threatening. Robin Beare refused to meet with him lest Stimic attack her. Shannon told me to be careful.
“The first thing they are going to do is make you out to be insane!”
Pierrot is honored as a respectable servant of the arts in Carmel, she a gallery owner who works with the arts. I told Morris the gallery was precious to my family, our creative members – and the children we born in the future! This is our showplace, our limelight, that others are employing to LURE OUR CHILDREN over to the covert cause of outsiders so they can be empowered. Not one of the caretaker pretenders own a gift of any kind, but, the gift of gab. They are also excellent liars who applied their trade to my sixteen year old child, Heather Hanson. They pretended they had her best interests at heart as they turned her against her father who they were at war with.
What happened at Sandy Hook is a warning there is a war against our children. To invent a teacher in order to claim movie rights and other creative property that belongs to members of my family – IS PURE EVIL! To surround OUR children with FAKE REPORTS OF VIOLENCE is monstrous, because it bids our children to go running to them for safety – the FAKE INSANE CARETAKERS!
This is CHILD ABUSE! I have had it. You pretenders are going to know what Justice means – in a court of law! Only the truth will set my children free of you leaches!
Here is the fake kindergarten teacher that Lynch somehow located via information she was given. Who gave her this information? What is this teacher’s name, and, what city did she teach in? How old is this fake teacher? She must be ninety. How could she recall just one student after all these years, least remember what her works of art looked like. To make up such a lie in order to get near OUR CHILDREN – is insidious and dangerous! Pierrot wedged Drew and Shannon in the door of success so she can glom on to Rosamond’s success, like a PARASITE!
THE BEGINNING: Oakland, California
If Christine’s parents had embraced her talent, there might be existing works from her childhood, but this was not to be. Fearing that Christine would steal her brother’s spotlight as the family artist, Christine’s mother, Rosemary, forbade Christine to draw at home. The only time she could express herself was at school or in her closet, by flashlight, when everyone else was asleep. Though we don’t have images to prove it, Christine’s kindergarten teacher has said that, by age five, Christine was already drawing with adult skill. She can remember Christine’s pictures of animals having near perfect detail and perspective.
In addition to oppressing Christine artistically, Rosemary also dominated Christine with physical violence. Trying to support four children with only a high school education and little help from her alcoholic husband, Rosemary was often enraged. She took this rage out on Christine and Christine’s earliest known works reflect it. In Teenage Drawing II, her subject is reticent and withdrawn. In Teenage Drawing III, the woman looks shocked and angry.
I talked with Linda of the Concord School District, and she said the Elementary School we Presco Children attended would be Williams located on 2895 East St. She said it closed in 1976. Four days ago I got a e-mail from Lind, who operated the Concord Historic Society. Our teacher could have been Charlotte Ballenger who was already a ancient legend. She died in 1989, and thus there was no real way for Julie Lynch to have talked to her. She does not say Vicki or Mark Presco told her about Charlotte’s artistic critique. She lied! This is more Art Fraud! Julie did make a film about an alcoholic artist. Christine Rosamond Presco, drowned on her first sober birthday in AA. I’m sure the good folks of Empty Chair don’t want to see crazy drunken artist sucking on a bottle of wine under the freeway.
Rosemary and Vic had a dream when they purchased their first home located at 2742 Richard Avenue in Concord California. See the For Sale sign in the garage. How I found our lost home, was to google the house number. It gave me two choices, but no street. Rosemary used her GI Loan, She served in the WAVES in Naval Intelligence. I think she paid $10,000 dollars. This house is valued at half a million.
I am reluctant to say more, because ‘The Parasites’ are still circling ‘The Presco Children’. I enclose a message I got from someone who used to work for my late sister. Alan Blain went with Garth Benton to the Getty Mansion in San Francisco when he did several murals for his friends, Ann and Gordon Getty. He did the murals at the Getty Villa. Here is Christine at the Getty mansion in New York.
President: Royal Rosamond Press Co.
Mr. Taber –
Based on the location of Richard Avenue, it appears the closest elementary school would have been Holbrook or Williams. Neither would have been very close – high schools and middle schools played that role. Williams School, dating from 1946, the first elementary school to be built as a result of population influx after, closed in 1976, so I don’t know the boundaries of its district.
A search of our computer records didn’t turn up any photos of rodeos during the 1950s. We do have aerial photos from the late 1940s that show the Richard Avenue area.
The Concord Historical Society would very much appreciate a copy of your anatomy of tract homes when it’s complete. Any additional information you could give us about your family and the area where they lived in Concord would also be welcome.
Resource Center Director
This photograph of me was glued to a piece of lined school paper like the one you get in kindergarten. I believe a teacher at Williams chose it because I am engrossed in a picture. My tongue is sticking out. Am I looking at a picture I drew, or, am I still drawing?
My teacher wanted me to take it home and show my mother. How about my father? I was thinking about putting the next photo, with the innocent one of me. But, changed my mind. I wanted the officials in Concord to own a nice picture of our family history – for their archives. I changed my mind again, after posting the one of Christine.
What is going on here? This is like a scene from a dramatic movie. That’s my mother, Rosemary, on the right. My father, Vic, on the left, and his mother, Melba, in the center. Who took this picture? Melba is looking at this person, and she looks angry.
Oh! Did I leave out someone? That’s my younger sister, Vicki. She looks happy – even innocent! Why? Looks like Melba is playing favorites again, and gave little Vicki a new doll. Is Vic playing favorites – too? I think Melba is saying;
“What’s wrong with this bitch? Isn’t she going to allow my son to bond with any of his four children?”
What is Vic holding on to – in his other hand? Where’s Christine?
How I Became The First Family Artist
John Gregory Presco
When it rains in Concord – it really rains! I think the clouds that roll in from the Pacific, hit Mount Diablo – and dump! My friend lived two doors down from us on Richards Avenue. He invited me in to play with his finger-paint set.
He gave me this piece of shiny paper, and showed me how to dip my fingers in and paint something. I am doing a clown. I really got into it. It was a good drawing. My friend kept looking over at my work, then, at his, and – he frowned!
“Let’s play with something else. Give me your paper so I can wash it off.”
“What do you mean?”
“You can wash it off and reuse it.”
“I want to keep it, and show my mother!”
“You can’t do that!” the little brat spat! And I got to my feet, grabbed my work of art, and ran home. I think I was crying. I told Rosemary my ex-friend wants to destroy my work of art. Just then, the doorbell rings.
“Hi! I’m Tommy’s mother and my son is very upset. Your son stole his piece of paper and he wants it back.”
“He’s not getting it back. My son wants to save his artwork. And, I want him to have it. ”
“That won’t do!”
“I will pay you for the paper!”
“That’s not the point!”
“What is the point?”
The mother stomps home in a huff. The point is, I was a vastly superior artist than her bratty son – who could not buy the gift I now owned – with a million dollars!
Does this sum up the ongoing argument I have long endured? Julie Lynch is a liar when it comes to the testimony of Christine and my teacher at Williams. The first biographer was a hired ghost writer, who claimed Vic took Christine out to the family car, and sexually molested her. He published a family photo next to this allegation – that is true! Vic confessed he did this at the end of his life. He quit drinking, and was going to get married. He wanted a clean slate. Christine had died three months earlier.
It is common for a father who has molested one of his children, to reject that child, and bond with a child he has not molested. The rule is……The Mother always knows!
Now to the really hard and painful part for me. What mirror did my beautiful sister own, that she could look into, and feel esteemed, feel safe, feel like the damage could be healed? Could she hold her mother up? Her father? How about Melba? My brother Mark, is there for no one. Not then! Not ever! Who’s left? What role model did Christine have, not to become a famous artist, but, just a human being?
When Christine started bonding with boys, she had problems. They could not figure our family, out. They saw Christine and I were very close. They were confused. They were threatened. One of Christine’s boyfriends became my good friend. He wondered if incest was going on, we were so close. There was no incest between us. However, my dear sister was having a very difficult time finding anyone who was my equal, who could replace me. I was the most important person in her life, until the day she died. She sees me, in herself. When I look into her eyes, I see the best of me. This is the way it was. It was not supposed to be like this. No family should be like our family, was. We did our best. Together, we created something, from nothing!
Rosemary started to become violent and vicious with Christine, as is sometime the case of a mother who blames the child for the incest perpetrated by the husband she lost. She was sixteen and I was seventeen when she begged me to rent a place with her so she could get away from the constant attacks. I had a job. We got a newspaper. The very first place we looked at, as faux husband and wife, my sisters says;
“Oh! We grew up with a fireplace just like this one!”
The poor woman was already wondering. Now, she looked like she was going to cry.”
“Well. We will be going now!” I said.
When family photos were taken, Christine and I always got as close to one another as we could. Below is a photograph of the Pretend Mr. and Mrs. Presco….The Family Artists.