Terry Florentine Brunton

Terry Florentine Brunton, a luminous, eccentric, and irrepressibly free spirit, passed away peacefully on March 13, 2025, in Monterey County, California. She was 83. Her life was a vibrant tapestry of poetry, performance, travel, laughter, and deep artistic resonance—a life truly lived without apology, convention, or constraint.

Born in Santa Monica, California, on December 13, 1941, Terry was a single child of light and imagination. From the earliest age, she felt called to perform. Terry’s parents built a stage in her childhood bedroom where she would sing and act for her stuffed animals and delighted family members. A true storyteller at heart, Terry found early expression in drama and song, a path she never strayed from.

Terry had a sharp intellect and an often-wicked sense of humor. She attended University High School in West Los Angeles, where she joined the Dionysians drama club, performing lunchtime plays for fellow students, and sang in a teen vocal group. Her passion for musical theater began at the age of eight after seeing Annie Get Your Gun. From then on, she famously—and endlessly—serenaded her family with her rendition of “You Can’t Get a Man with a Gun.” Musical theater became a guiding force in her life. She often listed the shows she “couldn’t have lived without”: Gypsy, The Sound of Music (she had a well-documented crush on a young Christopher Plummer), Phantom of the Opera, La Cage aux Folles, My Fair Lady, Cabaret, Les Misérables, A Chorus Line, The King and I, and so many others. Though skeptical at first of Fiddler on the Roof, Terry changed her mind after a personal encounter with Zero Mostel at Warner Bros., who played her selections from the score.

While studying at the University of Colorado, Terry’s family experienced a tragedy which was the devastating Bel Air–Brentwood fire of 1961. This fire destroyed her family’s home and all their belongings. This loss and the inability to return home after college was deeply painful and yet it awakened in her an unshakable inner strength, determination and self reliance.

Terry spent a transformative time working at Warner Brothers Studios, where she reviewed scripts and mingled with celebrities. There, Terry discovered what she believed to be her calling in film and acting. Yet, as a debutante in Los Angeles she was discouraged by her mother from pursuing a theatrical career. Expectations of society, marriage and family clashed with her innate desire for autonomy and freedom—desires she would never compromise on.

The death of her beloved father, Carville Brunton, during a business trip abroad when she was just twenty-three years of age, left a permanent impression on her. Terry felt a profound connection to his Irish roots and often slipped into a perfect Irish brogue when speaking about him. Together they had harmonized on Irish folk songs like “Danny Boy” and “When Irish Eyes are Smiling,” which they both sang through tears. She later imagined him on a heavenly stage, joining a chorus of beloved pets under a bright moon.

Following college, Terry moved to Balboa Island near Newport Beach during what she fondly recalled as “an absolutely idealistic time” in California history. However, wanderlust soon carried her abroad. Terry enjoyed traveling solo across Europe for many years. She chose to live in Amsterdam, Paris, Spain, and Italy. Terry described a romantic, bohemian life filled with travel, dancing, gourmet bites, museums, painting, and drinking wine in the sun. She would tell colorful stories about friends and lovers she met along the way. She would reminisce about dancing until dawn and waking up to the sunrise on the beach in Ibiza, summers she shared by the pool in Tuscany, and the Gypsy festivals in the South of France. Her travel adventures earned her the nickname “Auntie Mame” among family.

Terry loved to give travel advice to young women. She would often share “It is best to travel alone and follow your own instincts and intuition. If you are attractive enough; then all you truly need is a one-way ticket, a black dress, a straw hat and a fabulous shade of rouge-noir lipstick to get by. You may find a lover to enjoy upon arrival and stay there only if it suits you. Once that lover becomes able to speak English well to you - then take that as a note to leave for the next country. Repeat this plan over and over around the world”.

Returning to California, Terry moved to Laurel Canyon in Los Angeles at the height of the singer-songwriter era. She later toured as a road manager with the bands Steppenwolf and Three Dog Night. She always described the musicians as “very nice guys” and considered the rock scene just another chapter in a shared creative odyssey. Terry was a fashion maven. In 1968, with her best friend Judith Lang, they opened their first vintage clothing store in Topanga Canyon. These hip women were often frequently visited by rock and roll musicians and celebrities who relied on their stylistic influence. The store was a big success.

Drawn to artistic communities with a bit of cool weather. Terry eventually settled in Big Sur, Santa Cruz, Carmel-by-the-Sea and Pacific Grove where she continued to cultivate a life steeped in sensual exploration, creative artistry, and solitude.

Terry was a savvy business woman and this blossomed into a series of iconic and successful boutiques over the years: The Gypsy Bizarre in Santa Cruz, Reincarnation in Pacific Grove, Backstreet in Monterey, and finally Absolutely Fabulous in Carmel, which was named after her favorite British sitcom. Terry was blessed to have hired Jill Collier as her second hand to help her run her store for many years. Terry loved Jill and described her as a real magical fairy on earth. Terry’s shops were a haven for women seeking originality and self-expression. It was said she would refuse to sell you a dress unless she felt you looked stunning in it. Many young women in town bought their prom dresses there as Terry collected dramatic gowns and accessories. After her passing a local woman shared that her prom buying experience was so profound that she had saved the dress for entire lifetime. She said she never forgot the stylistic influence Terry made on her life. She said Terry actually taught her self confidence and how to carry herself with elegance which served her well in life.

Terry’s poetry was quite renowned—brilliant, spontaneous, and always shared. She wrote constantly and could be inspired by the most mundane of moments. She had little patience for reading others’ poetry (though she admired Dickinson, Frost, and Keats), claiming she “preferred to write it than read it.” She also penned musical jingles for advertisements and routinely left witty songs on the answering machines of her closest friends. She was a prolific painter and even her diaries had sketches of her desires and daily adventures.

Terry’s social media handle, “Flame Evermore,” and her Pinterest page captured her mystical essence and had quite the following. Terry embodied the full fire of her Sagittarius sign—independent, expressive, obsessed with beauty, animals, magic, and the sacred. Her homes and stores were adorned with Madonna statues, Saint Francis icons, bits of nature, displays of dried and fresh flowers, dollhouse miniatures, eclectic decor items and flickering candles. She always welcomed you into her home with a glass of Port served in etched floral crystal glasses while Maria Callas arias played in the background. She was deeply spiritual and instinctively sentimental.

Animals were her enduring companions. Terry’s grandfather was the “Hollywood Veterinarian to the Stars”. He influenced her to adore creatures of all sizes and kinds. Over the years she cared for many beloved cats and dogs. Among them were Skunky I & II, Mauzer, Peace, Cleo, and the semi-feral Zorro Das Vunderkatza, with whom she shared a wary but loving détente. She imagined them now, joined by her cherished dog Sadie, singing “Memory” from Cats on a moonlit stage in heaven. Terry loved all creatures with deep and connected compassion. Terry was often at odds with her neighbors in Carmel for talking to and feeding the squirrels and birds in her neighborhood. She found others that did not provide equal rights to all living creatures to simply be quite “unremarkable”.

Terry Brunton’s love for her dog Sadie was particularly profound. The two traveled Europe together. When Sadie passed at an old age, Terry mourned with profound intensity. She chose to bury her beloved dog in Big Sur on her friend's property. Terry claimed to have finished a bottle of tequila by herself at the gravesite. She then fell asleep on top of the grave weeping. She woke up at dawn to find a single owl feather placed atop the camellia flowers she had placed on her dog's grave. She later heard some local Native American lore that owls escorted the dead to the spirit realm. This gave Terry comfort and deepened her spirituality.

As an elder wise woman she loved to wear velvet cat ears when she dressed as it was attention grabbing and inspired conversation. When people commented on them she would often roar “meow” in response. When receiving her gallbladder removal surgery she even asked her doctor to allow her to keep the cat ears on her head during the surgery.

Terry’s intellectual curiosity was insatiable. She delighted in fantasy literature (especially Harry Potter), sealing letters with Hogwarts wax and using a Gryffindor opener. She was an avid reader and fan of films. Terry loved all types of music and yet had a fondness for musician Stevie Nicks and credited her with the fact that Terry wore long, velvet clothing and always kept her hair long even as she aged. Terry claimed to have sung and played “Landslide” on the guitar a thousand times.

Though she had lost contact with most of her family over the years, She enjoyed and pursued genealogical adventures with her cousin James in later life, breathing life into forgotten ancestors, even assigning names to stillborn twins in the family line so they would not just be lost to time. She also enjoyed visits and an outing with her cousin Richard and his wife when a hawk that was fond of her landed on her head and remained there.

Her chosen family of friends was also central to her life. Alongside her best friends, Judith Lang and Susan Brynner, Terry entertained their children with wild creativity and theatrical joy. Known to the children as “Aunt Terry,” she sang every song in The Sound of Music, wore elaborate costumes, painted in watercolors, read story books and recited poetry in theatrical accents. Terry provided much laughter and pure magic. Together, these three women enchanted rock stars, celebrities and artists. They created a sanctuary of artistic collaboration in which they thrived. They often gathered to paint, cook and to spend time together at the family cabin in Palo Colorado Canyon which was just off highway one between Carmel and Big Sur. They would throw legendary parties there with unique guests from around the world who were seeking immense privacy, refuge and hedonistic artistic inspiration.

Terry was blessed by a trail of lovers who remained devoted to her for decades. Some declared her to be the love of their lives. She received gifts, letters, flowers, and tokens of love from past lovers well into her eighties which served as devotion and proof of her radiant most unforgettable presence.

Terry is survived by her cousins Richard Breitung, James Heinz, Donna Thompson, Stephen Brighton, Christine Eckhoff, and Susanne Lee; and by her beloved chosen family of friends: Jill Collier, Laura Bourret, Alan Lashiver, Judith Lang, Kelly-Katherine Lang, Tracy (Lang) Britos, Hannah Jackson, Jill Ginghofer, and Peyton Reed. All of them, and countless others around the world, will carry her memory as a vivid, undying flame.

Terry Brunton will be laid to rest next to her father in the family crypt at a private service at Pacific View Memorial Park in Corona del Mar, California, on May 10, 2025.

In lieu of flowers, donations in her name to Jerry’s Place Hospice and/or your local animal shelter is encouraged and appreciated. It serves as homage to a woman who loved deeply, laughed loudly, and adored all living things with artistry and freedom.

As she would say, “Dahling, life is far too short not to be fabulous.”