Bonds With Angels
by
John Presco
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
THE PRE-WILL OF JOHN G. PRESCO
While I lie in Riverbend hospital abandoned by family and friends, my nurse brought up the battle over the estate of Bob Ross. It was a moment of serendipity. I told Joshua my family have been battling over the legacy of my famous sister, Christine Rosamond Betnon, for years.
The intake nurse questioned me THREE times about my contact person, so they can call this person IF anything happens to me. I began to cry when I told her my niece lie in cold storage for seventeen days before I discovered she was dead. Below are photographs of the home Drew Taylor Rosamond-Benton lived in for a couple of years. Drew and Mark were not present at this attempt to bring closure to the Death of Rosamond. Before the funeral there was a business meeting where it was decided Jacci Belford would purchase the estate, and pay off the creditors. While grieving for Christine, Belford called me and sad;
“I’m glad Vic isn’t going to get his prints back!” And “Shannon will destroy the estate!”
How stupid can people be. A non-family member tells me she is going to carry one the The Family Feud – purely for the money! After getting my daughter, Heather Hanson, back, she tells me I better watch out because Aunt Linda and Flip are going to take over Our Family Closure. Both of these people loved to drink! I uninvited them. I did not know Heather and Patrice had given Tyler to Bill Cornwall and his father, because they had no Heir. Bill could not conceive a child. His father was a top Texas Tea Party Grunt who encouraged Bill not not help his mother who was in a wheelchair. These devils did not want Heather and Tyler to have anything t di with me. I was abandoned in the hospital, and ell the worker and burses knew it.
Then there is the matter of Heather and Mark Gall refusing to serve as Administers of my Special Needs Trust, that was established with the monies my uncle Vincent Rice left to eight members of his family. He gave US a half million dollars. At the dinner table I honored Vinny. I found out the next day my daughter wanted to start a Bar & Grill with Linda Comstock, Flip, and Bill Cornwell. I made the mistake of telling my daughter that Vicki and Mark inherited $50,0c00 each. Linda booked us rooms at the Avi Casino and Flip, the cook anf professional bartender was going to set up a bar in Vicki’s house. They knew I had a lot of sobriety, and Vicki was quit drinking, too. They wanted our money to pary with. They would have rented a store in Santa Rose, set up a make-shift bar, and got their buddies drunk for three months, The bar would never open. Linda let Heather wear her blue cocktail dress. She wand for my family. She told me she was going to be the House Torch Singer. Today, Heather is a Woman’s Healer, and charges money. I have a HBO series in mind, titled…The Toy.
Then there is the matter of Vicki Presco not giving me the prints my father gave me, as stipulated by Executor Sydney Morris. She ended up giving them to my daughter via Stacey Pierrot – who mailed Rosamond prints to Heather, a member of Vincent Rice’s family. To discover the Secret Partnership made between Vicki Presco and Stacey Pierrot – when Heather Hanson is EXCLUDED from the marketing plan set up by Buck and Morris – is a huge lawsuit! Because my daughter is too stupid and disloyal to launch this lawsuit – on behalf of my grandchildren – I herby publish a DRAFT of my Pre-Will.
I hereby name Mark Gall as my First Executor, and Deborah (blank) as my Second Executor. Tyler Hunt is my sole Heir, under the stipulation he legally change his name to…
JON ROSAMOND TAYLOR
For the reason Ryan Hunt told my daughter he did not want a child, and for the reason Ryan was not at the hospital when Tyler was born, and want the name HUNT removed, and replaced by the surname TAYLOR. My mother wanted my name spelled JON, but the nurse put an H in this name, and shde refused to call me by my first name. As a Go-el Redeemer, it is Just that my grandson honor my late friend, JON GALL, who was not able to sire children due to being afflicted with a rare disease that took his life. His father has no Heir, and can adopt my grandson in a manner that suits him. Frank ROSAMOND was my grandfather. ELIZABETH ROSEMOND TAYLOR is my cousin. DREW TAYLOR ROSAMOND BENTON, is my grandson’s cousin.
“What is in a name?”
I am going to ask John Utness to make a new Will that will lay out the primary conditions. being
JON ROSAMOND TAYLOR will carry on the Rosamond BRAND name, and remain neutral in all family feuds in the future. He will not publish any book, or offer any opinion that is contrary to THE TRUTH the vast majority of Rosamond Fans wanted to see the Children of Rosamond carry on Rosamond’s Legacy, and not Bad Business Imposters.
If my cousin, Elisabeth Rosemond Taylor were alive, she would commiserate with the pain and anguish I feel, and approve of my endeavors to place both our families in a more dignified air. Christine thanks me for rescuing her daughter from the morgue, and surrounding her with family. To see us in the house where Drew lived, speaks volumes.
John ‘The Nazarite’
“It’s 9:25 A.M. August 10, 2024. I just called the Police Department in Bullhead City because Drew’s boyfriend begged a member of Drew’s family to do so. He couldn’t find – any of us! He never – knew us. But, he loved Drew Benton. On July 23, 2024 Damien posted a death notice on his Facebook. Total strangers to me – grieved – on cyberspace! The next day (I didn’t know) Drew was dead) I sent my estranged nephew, Cian, my post where I claim all of Belmont. I had not communicated with my nephew in twelve years. For several weeks I had been trying to find the courage to ask him if his father, Mark Presco, was dead. My older brother was supposed to take care of Drew after Vicki died. I got no reply – from Drew’s cousin, Cian.”
Tyheath The Gem Hunter
Posted on January 12, 2024 by Royal Rosamond Press
Drew Benton – Citizen of EverQuest
Posted on August 10, 2024 by Royal Rosamond Press
San Sebastian Avenue
Today, March 16th, is the day when EverQuest first launched in 1999, and 25 years later this elder statesman of our genre is still going strong. That means it’s time to celebrate with goodies and data, which are two of Bree’s favorite things (the third is probably chocolate).
My sister, Vicki Presco, got in early on EverQuest, and was a Supreme Goddess when she invited me to join and play with our niece, Drew Benton I came in as….Wolferose. I know Drew is sorely missed – there! The Land of Make Believe was tailormade for Drew, who Christine name after Andrew, she said. She wanted a boy, and got a verb?
produce (a picture or diagram) by making lines and marks, especially with a pen or pencil, on paper.
“he drew a map”
There are maps in EverQuest. J.R. Tolkien DREW maps. He created a woman who owned the name Rosamunda. He conjured her up. Above is a photo of the Rosamond Gallery in Carmel. That might be Shannon Rosamond standing in front, Drew’s half-sister.
“Every fine day Rosamunda walked the hills, seldom seeing another living creature other than sheep, or, very rarely, a doe or faun. She did not walk south to Hobbiton, however, except on errands or for an appointed visit. She had not forgotten her “understanding” with Bilbo. And Bilbo did not forget her, either. Regularly, he sent her gifts of wine or ham or fruit in season, as tokens of his neighborly regard. She appreciated the way he could show marks of particular notice, without making her feel the burden of obligation.”
It’s 9:25 A.M. August 10, 2024. I just called the Police Department in Bullhead City because Drew’s boyfriend begged a member of Drew’s family to do so. He couldn’t find – any of us! He never – knew us. But, he loved Drew Benton. On July 23, 2024 Damien posted a death notice on his Facebook. Total strangers to me – grieved – on cyberspace! The next day (I didn’t know) Drew was dead) I sent my estranged nephew, Cian, my post where I claim all of Belmont. I had not communicated with my nephew in twelve years. For several weeks I had been trying to find the courage to ask him if his father, Mark Presco, was dead. My older brother was supposed to take care of Drew after Vicki died. I got no reply – from Drew’s cousin, Cian.
{Casey Farrell can testify about me wanting to get in touch with Mark – after twenty-four years. He had to admit I could predict things. Christine had full acceptance I was a Seerm and is why she took up art. We were in touch, always.)
Yesterday I highly suggest the City of Belmont give me an appartment above the Iron Gate Restaurant. Too, late to be – civil to my family. Drew and I will haunt those two apartments – forever! Our Family Book – will take it all. My claim for it all – is ordained! The Magical Family is coming home to Belmont. For it is a truth that IF Carl and Dorothea did not exist – Drew would not exist! It is a fact that two members of the Belmont Historical society – did not want us to exist. Not once did they mention Drew’s famous mother, or, the names of the Jankes buried in our family crypt in Colma – that was not mentioned. They did not mention the coin I put in the crack of my ancestors final resting place. It was an AA Angel coin given to me by my Sister in AA, Joy Gall after I told her our Sister Christine Rosamond, drowned on her first sober birthday – after saving Drew. At eight years of age she watch her mother drown. Her account dies with Christine’s beloved daughter, who will be missed on EverQuest.
I understand the rich and famous are envied and hated. If only millions had the connections, they would all be millionaires. Billionaires – die alone! Surrounded by strangers born with real human empathy, like the empathy for King Kong, lying bloodied and dead in the mean street of New York. Because there are parasites in the world, I hereby claim all that is associated with the legacy of Christine Rosamond Benton. Drew and Shannon had no children. I have one child and two grandchildren. Rosamond did a painting of Cian that is very connected to Tolkien, and will be for a long time when my book is out.
Christine and I began to live a Fairytale life shortly after we moved to San Sebastian Avenue to West Los Angeles. I became good friends of Bryan McLean who became Christine’s lover. Bryan dated Lisa Minnelli in Junior High. Two hours ago I read about her father who directed the movie ‘The Sandpiper’ that was supposed to star Kim Novak, who had a special home overlooking the waves in Carmel.
My baby does not love me anymore. Yet – we dream. And, our dreams take us away, to foreign shores, where magic runs free, and is forever un-molested.
You are home, my dear niece! I have made a home for you!
John Gregory
Mary Morton Rosemond of Iowa
Posted on July 9, 2018 by Royal Rosamond Press
When I read the following this morning, the book, and movie ‘Gone With The Wind’ came to mind.
“The couple had nine children; eight girls and but one son — Martin — who served with Lucas County boys in Company C of the 13th Iowa Infantry and died in service in 1862. When James Roseman died in 1887, there was nobody by the name of Roseman left in the county.”
Thanks to my kin, Charles M. Wright, I was able to find the Western branch of the Rosemond-Rosemond-Rosemond family that descends from James Roseman, Phillip Rosemond, and Moses Morton Rosemond. Add to this branch my grandfather Frank W. Rosamond, and his four daughters, June, Bertha, Rosemary, and Lillian, and the Western Rosamond family, is complete.
I have chosen Mary Morton Rosemond t ground all the Rosy families, because she is a trained Librarian and State Archivist. If she were alive, she would be doing what I and Jimmy Rosamond have been doing for many years. The Rosemond family is mentioned in several history books, none more tragic then the Record of Iowa Soldiers. Why did they let Martin join The War of the Rebellions? He was surrounded by eight beautiful sisters who loved him dearly. He got wound, and was discharged. He came home and died shortly of his wound. What a heartbreak to say goodbye. He was handsome, and, perhaps too effeminate? Did he, and others believe he would come home……….a man. A Rose Man?
There are some profound parallels between the history of The Gone With The Wind, and the Roseman family who were pioneers. They Came from Ireland, and went West. Their name is gone, but their DNA is all over Iowa, including the bloodline to the Wieneke of Iowa. Frank Weseley Rosamond married Mary Magdalene Wieneke, and thus another Mary M. Rosamond. What is in a name? Did Mary Rosemond ever dream one of her kin would become one of the most famous Movie Stars of all time? Then there is my sister’s famous works of art, she know all over the world for her images of beautiful women. Christine Rosamond Benton used her middle name to sign her work, thus giving this name new life. I suspect Mary Morton gathered all her Roses around her, and this monument, with, just the name.
I am kin to Richard Burton who Ian Fleming wanted to play the first James Bond. Liz Taylor is kin to Fleming via Aeilene Getty. The Getty family have founded famous libraries, archives, and museums.
Jon Presco
My Magical Grandson With Dundons
Posted on June 25, 2013 by Royal Rosamond Press
Here is a photo of my grandson, Tyler Hunt, at Vicki Presco’s home. Vicki married Jim Dundon, the brother of Michael, and was surnamed Dundon. Vicki’s son, Shamus Dundon, is helping Tyler put together a car I bought him. Vicki’s grandsons, Alex and Sean, are kin to Tyler, my grandson. Kasandra Dundon was present. That is four Dundons.
Jon
My Beautiful Family of Foundlings
Posted on December 5, 2020 by Royal Rosamond Press
On April 6, 1994, I sent a letter to Judge Richard announcing A Family of Rose Foundlings. When Sydney Morris of Buck and Rose became Special Executor, I sent him letters asking him for monies to help me find the two children I sired – according to three psychics. I just had a dream where an angel introduced me to my daughter. I told my private detective friend, and he offered to help me look for her. Two weeks later, I got call from Patrice Hanson when told me we have a sixteen year old daughter. The first thing that came to mind – is my parents! They died before they learned their second born son was a father. My mother Rosemary – would have been overjoyed!
Here is a photo of my grandson, Tyler Hunt, taken last year. He looks very much like Rosemary. He has her nose, eyes, and mouth. I am going to put all the other children my grandson is related to, but, let these images begin ‘The Rosy Story’.
John ‘King of Foundlings’
Heather Presco-Hanson with my grandchild, Ember Dew. While everyone is going after Rosamond prints, I am recovering my lost family. Below Ember, is her half-brothers conceived by Ryan Hunt, Tyler’s father. All four children are in my family tree and are Heirs to this Miraculous Story that came into my life as a reward for being sober.
A Family of Foundlings
Posted on January 25, 2014by Royal Rosamond Press
In 1994 I went for a second reading at the Berkeley Psychic Institute. I wanted to see if they owned a picture of how my beloved sister drowned – because I did not. I heard nothing but lies. Then there is that drawing that Vicki did after she left the room. She came back with it after five minutes, and told me Drew had done this after she bid her to get in touch with her feelings. This drawing takes this Artistic Family Legacy – straight to hell! It goes with the collosal flashlight in closet lie. Vicki, with the help of her brother Mark, abandoned me the day before our sister’s funeral. My surviving siblings would turn my newfound daughter against me when she came into my life. They were duplicating what they did to Christine when they took Garth’s side – and isolated Christine.
I told my daughter and her mother to stay away from my family, and not contribute to the Tom Snyder’s biography. Patrice suggested that two biogrpahies of Christine would not hurt because she like to read two books on the same subject. After Heather disappeared from my life for two years so she could form a secret bond with Vicki ‘The Liar’, I forgave her. I asked her if she had read Snyder’s book she and her family fought me so hard to be in.
“No!”
In 1984 three psychics said I died by these beutiful rocks by the sea, and I had two children. All I wanted to do was own a moving picture of how Christine died by the sea while climbing on beautiful rocks. Instead, I get this.
“We were almost there when an ambulance passed us going the other way. We both realized it was carrying Christine. My mind flashed back over the last few months and years, and all the anguish FOR Nina and Drew and me, even for Christine. I was crying, and I turned to Nina – this is what I am ashamed of- and said, “We’re free! And Drew is saved!”
This is Garth Benton flushing the toilet, not with tears, but with glee. He owns tears of joy. He is laughing out loud. He is getting in touch with his true feelings.
Yesterday I wrote a draft about my daughter. I wanted to title it ‘I Hate My Daughter’. Since 2000, Heather Hanson has be the Anti-Muse. In her and her mother’s need to be in the limelight, I have been bound in chains. Now that I have accepted I will never see my grandson again – I am free! My daughter flushed me down the toilet with the help of her new lover, Bill Cornwell who is a Tea Party Crazy like his father. Bill and Heather told me I was a “parasite” on society because I receive SSI due to the PTSD I suffer from. Bill’s mother is disabled, and she too is a “parasite”. Heather allowed this drunken piece of shit to bring his political agenda to our family reunion, and work out on me!
* * *
When I saw that the letter I held was sent by Rena, my Muse, I sobbed for about three minutes. In 1997 I founded Royal Rosamond Press, a newspaper for the arts. I title my family “A Family of Foundlings” because my grandfather was an orphan and was shuffled around between his kindred. Royal Rosamond was abandoned. For a week I have another letter ready to send Rena. It explains that all child abused is summed up in this word……..ABANDONMENT!
When I found Rena on the beach in 1970, I found an Abandoned Child, a kindred spirit. This is why I cried when I lost her – and found her again! Rena is my Spiritual Sister who could have born my child. This is to say Foundling Children can have sex, but, only in a special way.
From here on ‘Capturing Beauty’ is going into a dark realm to tell a dark tale that no one may emerge from. I must prepare my reader. I average 160 readers of this blog a day. My reader can ground themselves by seeing this adventure as a the script for my reality show ‘Redneck Art Gallery’, a dark Teutonic Fairytale, a modern version of ‘Thrones’ or, God’s rehashing of His once favorite prophet Moses, who was bumped to the side of the road by the coming of Jesus. Moses was a Foundling.
At that psychic reading I was seen as a master of waterworks in Egypt. I am building canals all over the place. I am making water go where I want it to go. The great rulers – are amazed!
When I was about three, the age I am in the photo above, I loved to get up early and go up and down the street in my pajamas turning on everyone’s water faucet – and leave them running! To see me building up the sand around the tub, is what the psychics saw. People who have watched me paint seascapes were beholding the Water Master. That the boy above became a Biblical Scholar, is the real story and focus here. Rena is my Mary Magdalene. My Foundling grandfather’s wife was, Mary Magdalene Rosamond. She had four beautiful daughters, as did Rena’s mother, or father. Rena is right out of Grimm. She was the most beautiful maiden in all the land, and, now she returns as an older woman who owns true humility. She has lost the beauty, but, she is ‘The Keeper of the Lost Poetry’. How she became that, is the crux of this very magical story! Moses did wonders with his magic wand.
The last time I saw my painting of Rena was in my brother’s garage. I had to abandon it. Vicki told me Mark has disappeared himself, but, may be reading this blog. If so, I want this painting back. I painted it at Peter Shapiro’s house who had watched me do these amazing seascapes when we lived in a Victorian house. A pretty young woman came over and she watched me move my magic wand over the surface of the canvas, and transform it.
Jon Presco
Copyright 2014
Tyler Hunt And His Papa – Jon Presco
Posted on January 25, 2014by Royal Rosamond Press
The rule of genetics says we look more like our grandparents than our parents. My grandson, Tyler Hunt, looks just like his grandfather, John Gregory Presco. We are both known for our fat cheeks we had as young children that my aunts and mother had as children. Note our cherub mouths. In the picture of the sandbox, I look just like Tyler. I am building up the sand around the tub so as to hide it so it looks like a small pond. I was creative like this all the time!
When Marilyn saw the movie ‘American Flyer’ she bid me to watch it, for it reminded her of me and my relationship with my alcoholic family.
Jon Presco
Copyright 2014
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Radio_Flyer_(film)
https://rosamondpress.com/2023/03/20/captain-rosemond-wilding-u-s-navy/
“I Am A Living Museum”
Posted on June 28, 2013 by Royal Rosamond Press
On the train home from Vancouver British Columbian, I told a beautiful woman from Bristol England;
“I am a living museum!”
http://www.museumofvancouver.ca/exhibitions/exhibit/1960s-1970s-you-say-you-want-revolution
This declaration occurred just after we pulled out of the Amtrak station and after we crossed a river with three bridges. Tracy had sat down next to me at the small table in the Bistro car. We consumed our food in a unconformortalbe silence. We were strangers on a train.
An hour later, you could not shut us up. We were seated in separate cars next to someone. We fled to any empty car where the conductor sat alone at a table working on his papers. I begged him to let us sit in this car and chat because we just met. He gave us twenty minutes. An hour later we are seated at a table in the lounge car we alas found. I compare our conversation with one of my favorite movies ‘My Dinner With Andre’, but this is;
“My Breakfast With Tracy.”
We come out of long tunnel and two eagles have been startled by the train and swoop down over the water the train runs along.
“Look Tracy. Eagles!”
“Are those The Eagles?” This British Subjects asks.
“Yes! I exclaim, knowing they have blessed the Vision quest we have been on. “They are American Bald Eagles, the one you see on American passports.”
I take out my passport and show it to Tracy who let’s out a knowing laugh, we just having crossed the border and were not happy with the posturing and bullying that had gone thru.
Then, this question was put to me;
“Are these eagles quite common?”
Tracy was asking if we would be seeing many of these great birds from now on, now that we were in their land. All of a sudden I had a vision of an America plagued by an over abundance of Bald Eagles. They were more numerous than the pigeons in Rome. They were everywhere, fighting with seagulls for a morsel of garbage. Outside McDonalds there are signs that say;
‘PLEASE DON’T FEED THE EAGLES’
You see, folks were getting ther jollies by throwing French-fries in the air just to see the eagles swoop down and catch them in their sharp talons made for catching fish. But, those were the good ol days. These fries have turned our National Bird into a feathered pig, who didn’t bother to soar high into the air anymore, but waddled toward the outdoor diners who emptied whole bags of fries on the sidewalk when they squawked. Some took little kicks at them, which was against the law. When the cops were called in to stop these feeding frenzies, Americans would rise up and riot. They would go thru the downtown looting and burning, they shouting and screaming;
“No one can tell us to stop feeding our national symbol of democracy. No one!”
I looked at Tracy who was waiting for her answer. She was sincerely puzzled. She truly wondered if many eagles would be seen now that we were in the Land of the Free. There was only one other explanation.
“That was a very rare sight. We have been blessed, our quest. Those eagles are us…..The Last Messengers of the Final Transformation.”
Tracy is a black musician whose ancestors come from Jamaica. For the next two hours I explain the Southern Strategy and the agenda of the Evangelical Neo-Confederates. I tell her about the utterance of Lindsey Graham and the ranting of Rick Perry the secessionist governor of Texas. This morning, both men are on the news, news that was being made as Tracy and I spoke. Perry was telling woman what to do with their bodies at a Right to Life rally, and is assuring Latinos immigration is a wonderful thing as the Evangelical Congress prepares to shoot down the bill the Senate passed yesterday. Illegal aliens crossing our southern border is our national plague, and should be shut out, say some. So called Christian law makers are screeching;
“DON’T FEED THE MEXICANS!”
The Mexican flag contains an image of a Eagle swooping down to capture a snake.
* * *
At the Vancouver Museum, I came into a room that contained a 1956 Ford Farilane. I am amazed, and am telling this older couple I used to own a 1957 Fairlane. I tell them about the Ford truck at the Portland Historic Society. I am tell them I own the mate to this truck, and, I am one of the original hippies, if not the last hippie.
This couple are spellbound. They are ten years older then me, and agree this exhibit is of my era. I pose for a picture. I put on my Barret, smile, and give them a authentic peace sign – from the source! I was yet to see the three rooms they had just seen. When I entered the first one, I felt electricity running all over this surface of my body. It was a replica of a Hippie Bedroom, a woman’s bedroom. There were Bohemian clothes in the closet. There was an altar with a cushion to kneel on. I did not see the deity, but saw the candles and the incense. My Muse came to mind. Was this Rena’s first bedroom, her hippie nest she made for herself in Lincoln Nebraska afer we parted ways.
There were two more rooms with hippie memorabilia. One contained a Light Show box. One could conduct their own light show, but it was not plubgged in.
“Turn on. Tune in! And drop out!”
All of a sudden I realized I was the Real Thing, the Living Hippie come home alas. These were my things, in my home, in the House of the Three Muses. I belonged here. Here was my……………..”Sanctuary!” Here I could bring home Rena whom I rescued in LA. I saved her and brought her to a mountain top where perched like eagles we behild the sea far below.
My philosophy. My way of life. My vision of beauty and a new world had been exported to a foreign land where it took root and found a permanent home. Meanwhile, back in the state, I am hounded, questioned, put in a jar – and poked like a bug!
“A prophet is not known in his own land.”
Why is Vancouver, if not Canada, such a liberal country I now wondered. The answer came just now.
“People who love Victor Hugo find a home here – the French!”
I chose to come to Canada rather than fly to France!
The Photos
I was called Aqua Lungs after I developed a love for beer. That is me in front of 1939 Ford panel truck. This was taken by my roommate, Peter Shapiro of the Loading Zone and Marbles. We lived in a Victorian with the rest of the band before this, along with Tim O’Connor who wrote ‘The Hippies Were Right” in Amsterdam.
I am getting of the Amtrak train in Eugene as ‘Oakland Jonny’. to get sober. I was living in a Victorian water tower and was under the protection of a crack gang whom I knew when they were children.
I am standing with my uncle and brother with a cast on my hand. Vinnie and June would give me their Ford Fairlane that is parked at the curb.
Jon Presco
http://www.museumofvancouver.ca/programs/blog/tags/hippies
http://www.museumofvancouver.ca/exhibitions/exhibit/1960s-1970s-you-say-you-want-revolution
A museum is an institution that cares for (conserves) a collection of artifacts and other objects of scientific, artistic, cultural, or historical importance and makes them available for public viewing through exhibits that may be permanent or temporary.[1] Most large museums are located in major cities throughout the world and more local ones exist in smaller cities, towns and even the countryside. The continuing acceleration in the digitization of information, combined with the increasing capacity of digital information storage, is causing the traditional model of museums (i.e. as static “collections of collections” of three-dimensional specimens and artifacts) to expand to include virtual exhibits and high-resolution images of their collections for perusal, study, and exploration from any place with Internet.
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