Beauty Beyond Compare

Made In The Image of God

Posted on September 6, 2023 by Royal Rosamond Press

Rena and I were made in the image of God. When Christine Rosamond Presco saw a photo of the painting I did of Rena Christensen standing on a hill watching the sunset, she took up art. She couldn’t stand it, that I got so much, and she got – nothing! Out of vengeance – she had to have it all! In her autobiography that the New Narcists disappeared, my jealous sister began Her Story, this way

“Everyone thought my brother would be a famous artist someday, but, it wasn’t meant to be!”

Rosamond hated to go to shows because men and women always asked…

“Are you a Lesbian? Are you in love with women?”

I was in love with women – including the most beautiful woman in the world – whose back sent me to heaven. I just made this sunset on Fotor, that is close to the painting I did that I showed Christine in person, and that my brother – disappeared! They both wanted me to be…The Hidden One!

After spending the day on Monte Rio beach, we would shop for food, then drive into the Armstrong Woods. Putting the Dodge in second, and finding music to go with on the radio, we began our ascent to the top of our mountain. I felt I was stealing Beauty away from the World. I accused Rena of wanting to be in a crowd of people, but, she just wanted to be……with me!

John ‘The Hidden One’

“It was very uncool for a Hippie to get caught taking a pic with a camera, a rule I wished I had broke. This is a…….re-creation.“

The Healing Ride

Posted on October 5, 2019 by Royal Rosamond Press

Alas I found the road that Rena and I traversed almost every day for fifty days. It was a miracle my 1950 Dodge held up. Mind you Rena grew up in Grand Island Nebraska where it is completely flat. There were some hairy turns and deep drop-offs that my love looked down with some unease. This was her High School graduation excursion her harrowing climb in the Swiss Alps. Coming down, my breaks would get hot and we stopped at the usual pullover. We wee healing for a swim in the Russian River, or a day at Victoria Beach.

In the bottom video, the water in the pond was much higher. Rena would swim here at dusk, in the buff. I made all the meals, and the camp coffee. I gave lessons about the Indian Religion around the campfire. Then we watched the sunset, and the milky way appear.

Rena was afraid to even look at the ocean. I took her to our beach about five times, and she was trying to brave, more than I knew. Looking at the video taken near Jenner, I can now put myself in her place, a flat safe, place.

I was concerned our Dodge would break down going up one of the greatest roads in the West. I was going to post a map, but changed my mind. We took a back pack with us in case we had to bail, and put our thumbs out and hitchhike to Nebraska. Rena was such a special cargo. She called her grandmother every time we went to town. Rena was part Nerd. She sure got her ticket punched for the California Dream Ride.

It was very uncool for a Hippie to get caught taking a pic with a camera, a rule I wished I had broke. This is a…….re-creation.

John Presco

Bonding With a Beautiful Angel

Posted on December 28, 2014by Royal Rosamond Press

Rena let me take her in, capture her beauty as we stood together looking down at the clear pool of water at the bottom of the waterfall. To behold her perfect face, her chestnut hair against the vibrant green of the forest, was overwhelming. I could not get enough of her. I knew I would never behold such a beautiful vision. I now plotted how to capture her, keep her with me, forever: for the world would no longer exist for me if she was not by my side.

Tow hours earlier we were naked in bed at Hell Hotel. Since our kiss two days earlier, we longed to make love. But, being homeless in a tent in a friends backyard, we put out there like animals, would not do. Now, we heard a maniacal scream of some hippie wanna-be having a bun trip at four in the afternoon that stopped me in my tracks.

“I can’t. I won’t make love to your here! C’mon. Let’s get out of here!”

Rena did not ask where we going. We put our clothes on, and we were out of there. I had to marvel at what I had just done. The perfect nakedness of Eve, was gone. As my Dodge Coronet went over the San Raphael Bridge, I felt Rena grow tense. She was afraid of the ocean, and even more afraid to be suspended over the San Francisco Bay.

In Nebraska, everything is flat, and safe. Now my vintage car was climbing a mountain. At the Zenith, I parked, and bid Rena to follow me.

“I have something wonderful to show you!”

I parted the barbed wire, and taught her how to do the same for me. We waked across a field of golden grass drying in the hot summer afternoon.

“Behold!” I said to the beauty I had rescued!

“I watched Rena intently as she took it in, the vast Pacific Ocean, and Stinson Beach below.

“Listen! You can hear the waves break from way up here! We are on Mount Tamalpais, which means ‘Sleeping Maiden’.

I watched Rena walk towards the bank of fog that lay offshore until the sunset, then it moved in an hugged the maiden, covering her in a blanket of down. To behold her beautiful form against this backdrop, was the painting of my dreams. Here was my masterpiece, that fate had a hand in. If we had not taken that late night walk on the Venice Pier, we would have never met. What are the odds.

Against the vibrant green of the moss on the trees, I was now in Eden, with Eve. My mind was racing, I filing threw mu brain looking for just the right trick, the perfect piece of magic that would make her mine – until the end of time!  Rena turned to gaze at me. She trusted me because I did what no man had done before, when she got naked for them.

“Rena. I am having a very difficult time here. You are the most beautiful creature – any man has seen. Your beauty has made me very insecure. I feel so unworthy of being in your presence. I don’t know you. You don’t talk that much. Your beauty is like a mask that conceals your true identity. For this reason, I no longer want to make love with you.”

Rena, winced. I watched her demure, change. No one had done what I had just done. I had unmasked her. She changed before my eyes. The person before me was even more stunning. I knew I was in deep trouble, for now it would be impossible to let go that look upon her face. I looked at the deep pool of turquoise water and saw us naked there. It would be a Baptism. A spiritual experience. She had asked me if there was a place we could go swimming.

“Will this do?” I asked, hoping I would now be getting more direct answers.

“I don’t want to swim there. Is there a river nearby.”

For the next fifty days I spoiled her, the most beautiful woman in the world. After making her a wonderful dinner at Camp Laura Dell, we walked to edge of the world and watched a magnificent sunset.

Copyright 2014