I knew we were running out of time, my love. Time was going to catch up with us, this time. Then, where will we be my darling? Where oh where in this wide world, will we go? Where will we run to, now? There is a pentalty for capturing beauty. But I will never forsake you. I will never leave you in my dust. We are star dust. We are golden.
There are some major classic Americana Scenes that were created by my Beloved Muse and I. One was the fight we had just outside Winnemucca when General Eisenhower broke down, followed by the look she gave me as she boarded the Greyhound bus, then came her posing as Diana the Huntress in the museum, followed by her lying on the steps of the museum with her head on my lap, and, her announcement there was nothing here for me in Nebraska, in response to my idea about moving there and renting an old farmhouse with my studio in the barn, where I would render large canvasses of the Most Beautiful Woman In the World, who I loved so deeply.
Hence, America has been invaded by Super Models, many of them Russian. The First Lady is a former model. The vision I had in 1970, has come true. I saw Rena…
View original post 1,430 more words
Rosamond Press 