The Continuing Misadventures Of Rose De France

The Continuing Misadventures Of Rose De France

by Rose Cherie De France

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This book is a true journal. Some of the names of people, streets, and places have been changed possibly making this reality based fiction. Written by a scorned woman to keep herself company the journal confronts a double standard and injustice one woman went through and her attempts to heal herself through books and finally action. Strong feelings and sexuality

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This book is a true journal. Some of the names of people, streets, and places have been changed possibly making this reality based fiction. Written by a scorned woman to keep herself company the journal confronts a double standard and injustice one woman went through and her attempts to heal herself through books and finally action. Strong feelings and sexuality are all aired about the life of a real person. This book is really about a sabotage - a lie that was spread and the ingriedients surrounding this lie. The thread of the book seems to imply a love hate relationship and one person looking back on it to decide which it is. Perhaps she'll never know. Written for herself, published to share; Rose wants to escape to Hawaii which I'm reading of a prophecy by a Dr Walker predicting Hawaii to be a "lighthouse to a world adrift in unpredictable seas." The promise on this cover is that when Rose does make it to Hawaii she will write another and different book!

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The Continuing Misadventures of Rose De France

By Rose Cherie De France


Copyright © 2011 Rose Cherie De France
All right reserved.

ISBN: 978-1-4567-3290-5

Chapter One

If only I could tell you – maybe it would help me to figure it out. Tell you, that is, why it must have been that I found the fortune saying, "Things are not what they seem." At the time I'm saying – intuitively – inwardly, "I know", but me I was happy for a moment.

And now even more confused? You see - reader of this – I have gone someplace else. There is Stormin Norman with his gentle touch of encouragement and his erotic cartoon art. There is Melissa with her sense of color and her ways. There is Thomas Connie the artist of style – antique somewhat; Rick, bright and light full of love; Demetrius and his colouge art and he does travel with his pack back. There is Cheryl so beautiful. Big Al – ocean abstract; Brian and Joe on clay; so far there are two girls named Janet, one in ocean color; the other in self portrait. Michael – Naked Eyes – A tree Picture and much more. One is an artist guy – of passionate color who I love for watching over me. Nothing serious just a good feeling, what could be better than that? Yes and much more there is the boss – Jennifer – head social worker – talk about love. I love her. She wrote up to my worker and got me in. There is Dale – magical guy, with his nifty shiny thick black nail polish so helpful on my first day along with Rick of course! So this place is a combination of artists. Some retarded – some mentally challenged-some at risk-and me of course all three??!!!? And there are even many more artists I do not know their names yet. So what seems so unbelievable is me, I get to paint along with all these people while I also pass out paper, colors, paints, scissors, erasers, pencils, linseed oils, gesso etc. Somehow I like the job in fits in with me and this is unbelievable. Why should it be anyway? What about the fortune? Well that is over. Maybe things are not as they seem meant that my five cards were misplaced before the judging. But this place I believe being 'A people's place' is quite fair and has given me a second chance to get my cards in a contest. My card pictures are so beautiful, tropical turquoise, purple, pink, and blue skies all with green palm trees and turquoise and blue waters, green land at the bottom. So anyway I would love to get one of my cards printed especially since I have given a lot of them away and sold one or two and they are originals because I never zerox copied them. Isn't it great now-a-days we can copy things in color? It's terrible to say that I sometimes am a starving artist. I would combine my art with my music if I could find someone to make some harmony with. I suppose this was one of my lessons is life. Music is more than one flute. One flute needs either to be that flute in someone's music, or one flute needs some chords with harmonic tonic to make music and not bore people by assuming they can imagine their own harmony.

But I'm getting much ahead of myself. I believe what happened was that the other day, Wednesday to be precise, Cheryl had to come and tell me that "my cards were misplaced. That it was all her fault because she was thinking Xmas and that mine would have won because they were beautiful." Me, I said, "I don't see how it could be your entire fault." Anyway – as I was telling Mom – At the time for some reason I was cool – and I felt no nothing, no hurt or anger. And I told Cheryl I would just like to find my cards back – by the way which we later did when I tried to jog Cheryl's memory and then asked Connie who graciously got then out of the cabinet for me. But I think I got my good luck by first becoming poor so I could find this place Hospitality House. Second when my cards missed the judging I told myself, "this is a blessing in disguise" because I don't want anyone to be jealous, besides I just started here on the 1st and already I'm selling my art and in a contest. I'm impetuous. This is what I also told Cheryl when she told me I could bring back my cards again. She said "No, we like people to participate."

So anyway I hope I win, I could use some money and make me feel worthwhile. And I also hope that once again my cards do not get lost.

It's not really glory I want. I only want to be able to continue; to leave my works as I want to grow with my art especially with my paintings. And I want to try to help a few people while I'm there. And at least be as nice and kind to all of them as I can and it's easy because these people seem gentle, patient, unspoiled – many times they say they'll take what supplies I offer them.

Anyway I'm off to cook dinner.

Chapter Two

And now Cash is possibly on his way. Anyway, I am still working at Hospitality House, still liking it. Cross my fingers and knock on wood. My card was picked to be published!!! I believe I got lucky because Hospitality is a real people's place. And they are fair. Fair, anyway, I am glad, glad, glad!

At the moment some of the Hospitality people are making me laugh even though it's three days later. It seems everyone – a few people – are jealous of Thomas. The Thomas Coho is – somewhat mentally challenged – it also seems Thomas has a mentor who helps him- a smiley guy who dotes on Thomas's successes. Thomas does paint very nice horses, I even like them; they're so gentle looking. Anyhow – Smiley must be a teacher who gets his students to buy Thomas's work? The real secret of this I do not know yet, but anyway the joke of laughing is this – there is also another Thomas. A Thomas Connie who is a volunteer assistant like me and works alongside me. It seems Melissa isn't the only one commenting about why Thomas is selling. Thomas Connie told me a joke on Friday and I didn't exactly get it. He said, "Soon Hospitality House will be Horsepitality House because Thomas sold so many paintings." Something like that, well today is Monday this joke finally struck me as so funny. Imagine Horsepitality, sort of so silly, it made me laugh. I'm going to check with Thomas Connie on the joke!!!

Chapter Three

I can't believe a month has gone by – anyhow – since I began at the studio. I learned more names – Randy, one of the artists with the eyes – the eyes of a seer, a perceiver, a great guy - he seemed to be watching over me the 1st night when we had a sale. As he came over to me and said to watch out for a weird guy – another guy with eyes but haunted – intense eye, a weird guy who sat himself in front of me during the sale and essentially tried to socialize with me about going to museums. Actually a pest, a tad scary, mentally challenged. Me I – it was a lesson. If that ever happens again I will say – say something to let him know I wish he could move so I can try to sell something. Actually when I came back to my selling space there were two guys standing there; the guy who bought my painting and Weirdo. Somehow Weirdo said, "Can I have your phone number?" and the buyer had bought one of my "precious" cards and for my asking price $10.00. So somehow I gave this Weirdo my phone number. So, yes, Randy says, "The guy you gave your phone numbers to." Somehow I'm glad someone was watching over me and cared to warn me. It really was an accident on my side, a lack of discretion, and I think and hope that the loonie losses my number. Anyhow, he never called and I never saw him again. Besides that I have more real scarier threats in my own personal life.

So anyhow again – three people –Randy, and then there is Lee another artist. A medium light skinned black guy with a sweet way of talking; so sweet, and with a southern scent. He actually is Connie's friend. Lee also understands, he says "It's hard to put a price on your paintings after you put your soul into them." And he says "Yes" - to encourage me – "Yes, you have to paint your palm trees – over and over if you have to – you have to get them out of you." More pleasure to me to hear this then to hear Melissa saying, "Just paint something else!" Then Lee says to me that Connie likes me and I say Connie must know I've been with Cash for 13 years. And Lee says something to the sort of, "Was that hulkster Cash?" Lee is such a sweet friend. Connie's telling me to tell Lee to go away or something.

And then there is a gentle little old Chinese man – Mr. Lee – so very kind. This place is for people who are at risk. Anyhow I admire Mr. Lee's painting. What a lot of the artist's do is copy originals to practice. Mr. Lee was copying something and he gets the color all out there and they look good. Then I notice Dante working on Mr. Lee's painting. Somehow I know Mr. Lee is so sweet and Dante is rude to me. But it was between them, so I go back up to the front where I open jars of acrylic paint. Days later Mr. Lee says to me that he saw my work when I had it out and that he liked it. I tried to tell him that I also liked his work.

So now there is only one more person I don't yet know his name. He is a medium to old black guy – an artist – thin – reminds me something of a short Cash – but he is probably nothing at all like Cash. Anyhow, he comes walking through the workshop with his shirt off and a pair of shorts on – lightly. Connie says, "Have he come from the gym?" I say, "It's heating up out there!" This is just his way of walking so lightly and innocently. What's up? Roya?

We are having another show on Oct 21 and 22, 2000. I am on a committee to help put it together. This time I hope I can also get some pictures framed.

Chapter Four

Well Cash – Yes Cash is a hoe – pronounced whore. Rather, meaning whore; pronounced hoe. And I mean hoe. He has hurt me again. I can see I am not his first choice. He must have made a date with someone. Of course he'll tell me he went to jail or some story. Regardless it's the third today still close to the 1st and all his buddies and girlfriends have money. He is still a hoe. Oh me, what should I do? I claim Divine Guidance and Divine Justice and I give my hurt, anger, jealousy to the Holy Spirit. And fuck it. Really, as far as I see it I'm practically on my own again. Except Cash will be probably lying and using me for my weaknesses. But fuck it again. This book is not to be about him. How can it be when he runs off and I don't exactly know what he's doing? I am on my way to pick up my monthly fast pass – then food stamps. Yes and Cash always seems to take his time when he's off, gone, and me, I need to utilize my time better when he's gone. I get upset, sit around, sulk and don't act. Well I'm off........ Bye for now.

Chapter Five

It's been a while since I've written. I guess it seems that way with easy times. It seems I was awarded recognition as a volunteer. They gave me a certificate with a gold seal and Cheryl said nice things about me; like my colorful work and my smiling face at the door. I'm all excited about the sale on Sat ad Sun. I hope I can make some money although I don't blame Lee for not selling his work as I tend to fall in love with my own work too. I suppose in the end though an artist might need to get away from his creation and move on.

Cash is somewhere. And somebody else said something nice about me today. A gentleman I let in to get a cup of coffee said I was a beautiful lady and with character. Of course I fall for them all. I just love people to say nice things, half the time I don't care whether they follow through or even mean it. But, yes, I love people to be nice and say nice things; I suppose that's why I like Dale and Lee. Funny they are cigarette break partners Well Dale is very polite when asking for his supplies and thanks me kindly for my help. And Lee, Lee very understands about things. He understands that I have to get the Palm trees out of me. And he understands that I need a man too when I tell him that Dolly wants to throw Cash out. It seems Lee is a Virgo; Dale, a Leo; Randy, a Leo; Rick, an Aquarius.

When I told Dolly of my conversation with Lee - she says he was flirting with me. Somehow Lee kept asking me if I was moist yet. Me I'm taking it as a joke and looking at him, laughing. Funny I can't remember why he asked me if I was moist. Lee is funny - the day before he was going into detail about something sticky and drippy; and all the time with his sweet Southern drawl. Finally, Rick made him stop. He says, "Lee – Lee STOP."

Randy comes in one day in a sullen mood and just sits there and stares somewhat blankly. Next day I tell him that he also was honored as a volunteer, but missed it. I think that lifted his spirits as maybe he was sulking about something he did when he got angry about something, can't remember what.

So Randy gets back to work stretching canvas over boards and I got him to show me how and he even let me use his gesso. In fact, he did the whole thing for me. But he explained it as he went along. This is great as I've wanted this knowledge for thirty years. I am thirsty for knowledge like this!!!

I also went to a framing workshop and Rick gave me and Melissa a good lesson on matting and framing. Rick is a great expert.

Today I ended up helping Melissa get to General Hospital as she was crying the doctors were making her wait too long for some test. Crying and saying she couldn't go on like this. So I told her I'd take her on the 9 bus. I gave her love hugs and patted her back. I went with her out there and asked if she could get a taxi voucher home. Then I left and came home, myself.

Somehow my abstract in the window got pushed into an abscure high place with a glare – bummer - so God Bless it. Also my framed palm tree has not sold yet, but someone did ask about it and said he was coming back for it. And someone was also interested in the abstract; I suppose I need faith – hope – this is what life is about – right?

Chapter Six

So the sale came about and passed. I sold another one of my Palm cards for $10.00, other than that – not many customers. One fellow did like my framed Palm Tree but I ended up trading it to Lee for a pair of shoes. Actually, Flamingo dancing shoes; shoes that Dorothy wore in the Wizard of Oz. Anyhow, I'm still having trouble rationalizing my impulsiveness. I do need shoes and the shoes do fit, but I really loved my painting and it went so well with the others in my collection. I suppose I could buy it back from Lee who is keeping it for the time at the workshop; at least I'll bring my camera to take a picture of it on Wednesday.

Meanwhile something else has come up. This morning while I was fiddling around trying to listen to a tape Ken Red had left me; I looked between the speaker and the stereo and to my surprise I see a hypodermic dope shooting needle. Now for some reason which I will probably end up going into in detail later or sooner – for some reason this is very upsetting to me. It means Cash is shooting dope. It makes sense out of the reason why I am alone a lot. Because it takes time for a junkie to go do the things a junkie has to do. But really this is not fair to me and I don't really want to put up with it although, love does bear with all things and I have noticed a difference in Cash when I thought he was high – well it doesn't really bother me because he just nods out or goes to sleep and he is in a good mood which is a relief from some of his drunken moods that I hate. But, on the other side, it is very disgusting to me. These are resources that should be shared with me – if we are as we say, 'a couple'.

I mean if we were together like in the past smoking up all our money together it would be different, but it's just too unfair to me, especially since Cash tries to be so strict with me; wants to choose my friends for me. For instance he doesn't want me to go to Two Dicks for anything. I love Two Dicks, he makes me laugh. There's a whole other story about Two Dicks and Cash for me to tell. But that's for later. Two Dicks is the one I would like advice from; possibly tonight if I can find him. First Dolly and I have to run errands for her Grandmother. I will probably end up confronting Cash with his problem and actually trying to throw him out or get rid of him again as he did have his own room at the Isabel on 7th St. downtown San Francisco. But he lost it, so then he comes back to haunt us. Is this love? I'm just pissed, but since me and Dolly are broke Cash might come up with something because he said he and Rudy were trying to work today. But really what can he come up with for us with the addictions that he has? I still just want to run away to Hawaii.


Excerpted from The Continuing Misadventures of Rose De France by Rose Cherie De France Copyright © 2011 by Rose Cherie De France. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

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