Where Rena And I Met

I put Rena’s portrait up for viewing. It catches my attention – big time! This is how she looked when she approached me and asked;

“Can I walk with you?”

Somewhere

ven8 ven10 ven12 ven14 ven15

Above is a photo of the last block on Washington Street that ends where the Venice Pier begins. In the 70s, every Friday and Saturday night young men whose girlfriends were knockouts, came here for a impromptu beauty contest. I do not know if this was going on when I met Rena in July of 10970. She was hiding in the dark doorway of one of these establishments at 3:00 A.M. in the morning. Her boyfriend had driven from Grand Island Nebraska to Los Angeles. I suspect he wanted to get his lover in the movies, or, perhaps, Playboy? Rena was waiting fore someone to come along – that she could trust.

After calling the Venice Muscle Men “fags” they chased him down the boardwalk, caught up with this Cornhusker, a mile away, and put him in the hospital. Rena saw the muscle guys return, and waited, and waited for her boyfriend. She spent all her money buying cokes until the bar closed at 2:00 A.M. She saw Michael and I walk by, and, the soon to be most highest paid artist in the world, the famous……’Rosamond’.

Rena watched me stop, while my sister continued to the end of the pier with her lover. Feeling left out, I looked down on the crashing waves, and asked;

“Where are you? The love of my life?”

I was calling to my new Muse because two days earlier I met with Marilyn for an hour, and she said we were through. She was my Twin Flame, a term I only learned about six months ago. Marilyn and I are dear friends today.

Rena watched the world famous artist to be, and future sister-in-law of the ex-wife of Thomas Pynchon, coming back her way. I walked twenty feet ahead. I was Christine’s teacher. She would give me credit for her amazing success. When she came at me from the dark doorway, I gasped. I looked, and could not catch my breath. Not but an arm’s length away, is the most beautiful face I have ever seen. I had to look away, if just to compose myself.

“Can I walk with you?” this apparition asked. I wanted to speak of the obvious, tell her there and then she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. This was the TRUTH! Who could believe it? Why me?!!!

“Of course! I was expecting you?” This is what came out of me.

“What do you mean by that?” This sea creature inquired, she scouring the interior of my soul in search of any foul hidden agendas.

“I was looking down on the waves, asking where she was, the love of my life! Don’t be afraid, I am a hopeless romantic.”

“Oh! Rena said. When Christine saw the painting I did of Rena two years later, she took up art.

When Christine Rosamond Benton came up to us, I introduced her to my family.

“Christine. This is…….?”

“Rena.”

This fateful meeting took place at three in the morning. Michael would buy Christine her first art supplies. His brother was married to my younger sister. This is a creative family – event!

In six days, the first movie made from a Pynchon book, will premiere on the silver screen. ‘Inerent Vice’ takes place in Venice. It is about a PI who is visited by his beautiful ex. Consider the Playboy Beauty who drove West to get a contract with Ken Kesey to author her screenplay she had in mind. She was raised in the same town Rena was, Grand Island Nebraska. Consider the dangerous Alley Gang and Belle Burch, whom I asked to marry me so she could have these famous folks in her family tree, because, I am in need of a Bohemian Heir. This is the REAL Inherent Vice.

Last night I heard the Moody Blues perform this song on T.V. I heard it many time before, but, after learning about the Twin Flames, it was like hearing it for the first time. From what I gather from our recent communications, Rena has no appreciation for the incredible scene she starred in for 48 hours. Very wealthy men come from all over the world – for just a taste! I know Rena thinks no one noticed her, but, when you win the contest, it is gauche to look at Beauty directly. I had trouble – after she chose me.

In the contest held on this block, you saw the hottest women in L.A. There were blonde Aryan Couples with matching pure blue eyes. But, here come the Chicano dudes with the most stunning women you have ever seen.

I have to laugh! The palm trees, the tan surfer, the perfect sunsets, and the most Beautiful Woman in the world – who is you! And, somehow, this is what you came here for, and its all…… icky-pooh! Then, I happen along!

In hind sight, the Strong Men of Venice helped me become a legendary hero. Didn’t Hercules judge a beauty contest? We know Paris did. For years I have said this about Rena:

“Her beautiful face launched a thousand Rosamond prints.

It is coming back to me. Wings and the t-shirt store were once a bar. The door Rena came out of says “t-shirts” in red print.

Jon Presco

Copyright 2014

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Twin_flame

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Judgement_of_Paris

Below is the photograph my sister took of me in 1973 in her studio. Rosamond’s images of beautiful women were found all over the world. I was going to be her first male subject. She wanted to make me famous, too. When I saw this photograph for the first time several years ago, I understood who Rena saw that night, a beautiful young man with pale blue eyes that she chose to save her. Rena has gold eyes. By the energy in our first kiss, I now know that she struggled to catch her breath.

jonp0001

renaa6 ven18 venice-050 veniceb7 venice-beach-boardwalk-

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

It’s……..SHOW TIME!

Belle betrays me and becomes a cripple. We make ammends. We author a hit Broadway show. Is this a dream, or a movie?

I tried to give Belle – something! She was selling roosters, then, giving them away. She mentions food stamps and needing a place to live. I now believe she and her cohorts believe their threats – worked. I suspect she has used their fake Call Him Out poster on the fake abuser site, to enhance their reputation.

Kim Hafner and my neighbors used that poster to own power over me. They were not happy I called the police. Why? I believe they wanted to mentally torture me, and, force me to move out. I now wonder if Kim contacted Belle. She used to be a gleaner that delivered food to Whoville. Did Kim want to esteem herself in the Hand Out community where there is a competition for goods and services?

What would members of SLEEPS have done if I did like the demanded, and took down all mention of them from this newspaper? Would they call and suggest I make a hefty donation? I did consider that.

John Presco

Rosamond Press

bulb2bulb3

Last night I talked with my dear friend, Christine, for about an hour while she sat on a park bench at the corner of 6th. and Bleaker St. in the Big Apple. Once again, she asked for my recipe for Chili Verdi. She had not yet opened my Cultural Care Package containing the ‘Super Star’ outfit I bought her. She was seeing another man, because Stefan was steppen out on her, he romping about with a woman from Austria that the Godmother of Greenwich Village gave a Karate Chop to while rescuing six giant canvases that Stefan rendered that were decaying on a rooftop. There was a cat-fight in a U-Haul.

Stefan and Christine are central characters in my Broadway Musical ‘My Big Beautiful Blue Bicycle’ starring Belle Burch, who I proclaimed was a younger version of Marilyn Reed, my first girlfriend, who is married to Black Jazz Drummer, Kenny Reed…

View original post 965 more words

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

I Forgive You Belle Burch

I wrote a musical starring Belle. I was trying to make ammends. She told me she was a dancer. Now she can’t dance. Is this Karma?

Rosamond Press

I was watching Rachel Maddow interview James Comey, and, his notes were released! Has it been four years since we had our battle over INFORMATION? At the Wandering Goat we pretended we were Radical Artists during World War Two, taking great risks to defeat the Nazis. Did we foresee the election of a Nazi President, who is a Tweet Freak – and demands PRIVACY?

Earlier, in the news, I saw all the blue bicycles. I see you getting on the blue bicycle, and saying;

“You are looking at me like you will never see me again!”

Both of us have THE SIGHT. We knew you spoke the truth. We hid it, for a little while. The truth always gets out. Always.

I care for you – so much! Did we do this – in the future?

Jon

It’s a nearly $1.5 million project, with money coming from a Department of…

View original post 2,543 more words

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

I Almost Forgave Belle

Capturing Beauty

by

John Presco

Copyright 2019

I almost forgave Belle Burch after reading her facebook post about wanting a baby. But. because she severely injured her back three years ago, she is not yet healed. If she got pregnant, she would have to have an abortion. If she could not have one, then she would be injured more than ever. It is a very eloquent post that I shared, then tried to get over to my other facebook so I could copy it to here. The later part of my plan has not met with success. I might have to transcribe it. If I had left Belle a message I might force her to get a restraining order.

(I have been unfriended!)

What is ironic, there is no way for anyone to violate Belle’s privacy, because she reveals everything. Most of her posts are controversial, and go against all norms. Anyone who has class would dismiss her as a Green Organic Mooch! I conclude it was that $400,000 dollar gift to the homeless SLEEPS was after, that made them come after me. Bad Publicity only matters when the sum is over the value of some wood for your chicken coo,p and a pump for your bicycle. Bell identifies herself as a witch – for whatever that is worth!

For a week I have reading Belle’s post. She is a Mini The Moocher. She believes in a Ask and Receive Economy.  She asks for everything. What I read, is she is asking for a healing so she can have a child. I wanted to tell her I do not curse her, or, if I did, I am sorry, and please let me try to heal you.

Five years ago I did offer to support Belle, and raise her lover’s child – if she wanted a child. Ambrose had no way to support Belle and their child. I thought I had months to live, and had adopted my homeless friend, Hollis Williams I asked her to marry me so that she would be in my famous family tree, and be able maintain Intellectual Property Rights as my widow. I had lost my daughter. Many people in my family tree were not going to tell me I was going to be a grandfather. There was no call for that. I can not forgive anyone involved, especially my daughter, because it was her call, her desire – that I never knew.

Heather Hanson and her mother wanted to be in Tom Snyder and Stacey Pierrot’s book. Not knowing Christine, or I growing up with us, she wanted to get to the core of MY family, and be the star, the center of attention, the Madonna with Child. She too was a Big Mooch. I now understand that people will do anything for their fifteen minutes of fame. If I did not have a famous sister, I would have had normal relations with all those people, including Belle Burch. People get next to people in hope their money rubs off on them.

I sent Rena a drawing of a small house I just finished when I got her letter. I thought she said her husband was not too long for the world. I talked about helping them, and even coming to Montana to get her. This is what freaked her out.

In the last week I found two great houses with an addition. I fantasized about Belle living on my property doing her herb, seed, elixir, and free exchange thing. No sex involved! She would be my companion who would do some housework, depending on her back. Where am I going to get the money to buy a house? I just finished the outline for my short story, that deals with Rena and I. WOW!

“Ask and thou shall receive!”

The problem Belle and her friends are facing is an ancient one. They want to find suitable mates, but, the rules and the economy has changed. Young men do not have the opportunities their grandfather’s had. They can not support – and protect – the woman they marry. They’re not getting married. However, old folks are dying. In many cases they can not, or will not leave anything to their children. The church gets their money. Think!

Belle and my daughter are like twins. Heather is doing some kind of self-help healing scam. She has never been married. Either has Belle. Everything goes – but a marriage certificate. I do admire the attempt to be honest – and appear honest? Married couples did not have to be – that honest! She says she has no money to have a baby. Even if her back was not damaged, she could not feed her child. How about her buddies? She says all her friends are getting pregnant in the Whiteaker. Will the Wiley Dudes give up the reefer in order to buy pampers and a case of baby food? Are we going to see a dozen babies being breast-fed under the freeway?

Belle should have three children. She was busy educating the males in her vortex. What happened? One of them had a flat tire and she tried lifting the car because he didn’t own a jack? My offers were to Belle ‘The Individual’ but soon learned that person does not exist. Belle belong to several Green Gangs. She was a member of OCCUPY and SLEEPS. She did not want to go to arbitration. She wanted to go to ‘The Mats’, She gets a thrill via the power of a mob. I resented her and her mob using my real hippie history.

Going to the mattresses

Going to war with a rival clan or family. Used in the mafia. Its when a mafia family sends someone out to get someone apartments and some mattresses for the soldiers of the family to sleep on while they hide out in saftey, waiting for a call to do something.

At 1:00 A.M. Belle unfriended me while I was writing this blog. Was she up late reading it, she wanting to see what more damage Kim Hafner and her gang of Fatties has done? I now believe they are in contact. Who contacted who, first? No one else is talking about these witch-bitches who are suffering from severe depression. Why? Because they can’t blame any dude – thus anyone – for their dismal destiny.

All the women are innocent, which makes the males that post on Bellle’s FB, very leery. There was a call for men to police the rapist, and general male assholes, which I will publish. Go read it for yourself. It identifies all men as the enemy, which will not solicit the idea of males supporting a woman’s child. We are looking at a very frightful social feeding frenzy that I was made aware of when I met the coven in Ken Kesey Square four years ago,

I now understand I chose to live in a Fantasy World when I was eight. All these witches do not want me to go there and become a famous short story writers – and artist! Because, they won’t be able to touch me, nor get near me. I will be paid – The Big Bucks!

I suspect the Witches of Eastwick are trying to steak my book. I have seen Belle’s writing. She is not a good writer. I own all the wondrous memories of my sister and I. This is what the real world wants to read. Our bond as creative youths, will amaze everyone.

Belle’s mother died when she was fourteen. Jeff Burch should have got his daughter in therapy within a week. Girls are empowered by their mothers. Belle felt a loss of power with her peers who still had mothers. She went looking for a gang to join. She found homeless people who had been abandoned by – THEIR MOTHERS! The key word is;

ABANDONMENT

Our meeting was an adoption. You can see this is how she felt. When I got her to tell me the truth about WHO SHE IS, I scolded her a bit.

‘I didn’t like your poem. I want a rewrite!”

I was saying that I was giving her a mulligan, a free shuffle of the deck. Her disappointment haunts me.

I belong, and have belonged, to several twelve step programs.

John Presco

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/2051-Jefferson-St-Eugene-OR-97405/48410962_zpid/

https://www.trulia.com/p/or/coos-bay/63522-s-spring-rd-coos-bay-or-97420–2118106754?mid=0#lil-mediaTab

https://rosamondpress.com/2019/05/12/stupid-women-destroying-everything/

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

My Sister Adored Me

Capturing Beauty

by

John Presco

Copyright 2019

Here is Rocky Point during a moderately strong wind. Looks like the tide is up. No way would Christine take her eight year old daughter down there – least herself! I taped my conversation with one of the rescue personnel who was on the team that pulled Christine from the ocean about a hundred yards away from the rocks. He said there were whitecaps to the horizon that morning. A friend said the wind was very strong.

Christine was face down. They lifted her up with a helicopter. She was still alive. The coroner should have that tape. I wonder (and suspect) if I am up against a rich and powerful man. I wonder if Belle Burch and Kim Haffner contacted Stacey Pierrot who was authorized to pay Burch and Haffner money to gaslight me. Where did Alley Valkyrie get the money to go live in France? Shannon again said her life was in danger.

Haffner and Burch offered to help me with my book. Then, they viciously turned on me. They could have been offered another fifteen minutes of fame that they wanted from me, but, then we had a falling out. Belle held back information, and Kim – or a friend – dogeared Christine’s biography. I now see they were in a rage, believing I was being trivial. They became – STALKERS! Alas, we have testimony of a world famous artist about what a adorable person I am! Who do you believe is telling the truth?

I just got a message from someone who dated Christine. The keys words are “she adored you”. These words were like a slap in the face! It woke me up! Since my sister’s death no one has told me this. We had a falling out in 1977. Vicki said she did want to see me again. Vicki showed me Christine’s rough drafter of her autobiography where she denigrates me. I now understand she wanted me to not care what happened to her. I tried my best to forgive Vicki, but can not. Vicki drew me a map of the cove and she put herself ten feet away from Christine who was fifteen feet from the water. Drew is five feet from Christine. IMPOSSIBLE!

“I’m absolutely stunned, flabbergasted and amazed at how her life unfolded. What an incredible talent! One thing I knew, she adored you. Anyway I’m still trying to process this information and my time with her. I hope you’re doing well.”

Here is part of the conversation I recently had with my niece, Shannon Rosamond.

“I saw how much Stacey has deceived and basically I don’t the the word to describe it , blasphemy? To know her wishes and what she wanted and instead she choose to do the absolute opposite and make moms worst fear and best effort to not do , then to do that most feared thing. Abandon and pillage let Garth in the business . You know when she died there were two restraining orders against Garth. One for the house the other for Rosamond galleries”

 

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Old Decrepit Love

I am going to start writing some short stories, and self-publish them. I am going to learn how to use a computer where I can render more images of Rena Easton doing what I want her to do. I betcha I can make her smile with the keyboard. I am going to capture her in all kinds of ways and poses. I’m even going to put her sitting in my beloved Dodge Coronet I drove her around in – for real!

When we headed for Nebraska and Boston, I took out the back seat and put a thick piece of foam. Rena slept on it when we left at 4:00 A.M. I wanted to get across the desert at Winnemucca at sunrise.

(of a person) elderly and infirm.
“a decrepit old drunk”
synonyms: feeble, enfeebled, infirm, weak, weakened, weakly, frail, debilitated, incapacitated, wasted, doddering, tottering, out of shape, in bad shape; More

  • worn out or ruined because of age or neglect.
    “centuries-old buildings, now decrepit and black with soot”
    synonyms: dilapidated, rickety, run down, broken-down, tumbledown, ramshackle, worn out, derelict, in ruins, ruined, falling apart, falling to pieces, in (a state of) disrepair, creaky, creaking, gone to rack and ruin, on its last legs;

     

Old Decrepit Love

by

John Presco

Copyright 2019

Every time Springfield Johnny looked in his rearview mirror, there she was once again. Her beautiful face was bathed in the golden light of the rising sun. She had slept all through the night in the make-shift bed he made for her after he took out the back seat. Johnny let go a heavy sigh, for soon it would be, goodbye.  Serena was going to College in Lincoln Nebraska. She chose to be a Cornhusker rather than live in the old shack at the end of the pier in the Oakland Estuary where Jack London docked his oyster boat.

For forty-nine years Johnny’s, friends and his daughter, begged him to give up his Dodge Coronet that was the most decrepit car in America, if not the world. He dare not say why he clung to it, lest they say he is a lunatic.

“Where are we?” Serena asked, then gave her man a precious last yawn.

“We’re just coming into Winnemucca, my love. Did you sleep well?”

“With you at the wheel, I always sleep like a baby!”

All of  sudden, Johnny hears the siren of a cop car.

“Drats! I’m being pulled over again!”

When the cop stood next to his window, he rolled it down and said;

‘Morning officer. I know what you are going to ask me. I don’t own a cellphone!”

All through the night
I’ll be awake and I’ll be with you
All through the night
This precious time when time is new
Oh, all through the night today
Knowing that we feel the same without saying
We have no past, we won’t reach back
Keep with me forward all through the night
And once we start the meter clicks
And it goes running all through the night
Until it ends, there is no end
All through the night
Stray cat is crying so stray cat sings back
All through the night
They have forgotten what by day they lack
Oh under those white street lamps
There is a little chance they may see
We have no past, we won’t reach back
Keep with me forward all through the night
And once we start the meter clicks
And it goes running all through the night
Until it ends, there is no end
Oh the sleep in your eyes is enough
Let me be there let me stay there awhile
We have no past, we won’t reach back
Keep with me forward all through the night
And once we start the meter clicks
And it goes running all through the night
Until it ends there is no end
Keep with me forward all through the night
And once we start the meter clicks
And it goes running all through the night
Until it ends there is no end

https://www.copart.com/lot/22680847/Photos

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Mural Connected to Hog Farm

Here is Erin Sullivan who painted most of the starry objects in the Creamery Mural. She told me she was a friend of the authors of the book ‘Holy Blood, Holy Grail’, and she felt compelled to read ‘The Da Vinci Code’ after the lawsuit.  I had not yet found Erin when I wrote this on this post;

https://rosamondpress.com/2015/08/29/a-bookcase-pennent-and-trophy/

Erin was a member of the Hog Farm and a good friend of Wavy Gravy. Homer Simpson was recruited as the Axis Mundi. Consider Robert Anton Wilson’s ‘The Cosmic Trigger’. Like it or not, we are all hurtling in space. And the mothers that born us want to be proud of all their children. For sure they don’t want us to fall in with the wrong crowd, a bunch of oddballs. Now, the bookcase makes perfect artistic sense. Do you agree?”

Wow! What a Cosmic Trigger Coincidence! Erin posted this post on this Facebook and said it was an example of her ‘Retrograde of Venus’. I am changing it, but have the original. Here is what Erin wrote me – that floored me!

“Boy, could I tell you about Dan Brown . . . I am published by Penguin/Tarcher . . . I was the editor for Arkana Contemporary Astrology, Penguin UK . . . . And, he ripped off my authors and friends, Michael Baigent and Rich Leigh who are the authors of Holy Grail, etc.

Rich Leigh who are the authors of Holy Grail, etc. When they lost the lawsuit, Rich died of a heart attack four months later . . . Michael has since died 4 years ago from cancer . . . , When I was forced to read DaVinci, by the tine I got to page 38, I thought it was Rich Leigh under a boring pseudonym . . . AND, it is also straight out of my book on Retrograde Planets, in the VENUS chapter!!!!””

Erin asked me if I had seen the mural her and Laura Foster painted. I told her I saw it in 1986, when I went to visit my childhood friend, Nancy Hamren, who worked there. We talked about the commune we lived in with the Zorthian sisters, whose father was a famous muralist who was inspired by my kindred, Thomas Hart Benton – who was the mentor of Jackson Pollock! Erin was thrilled to be placed amongst these stars of the Art World, as will Laura be when I find her.

 

 

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment