Vagabond, pages 1 and 2

This was published by Todd Mecklem's Terata Publications, and featured eclectic sources. The Eccentric Mr. Panji dated from around 1979 or 80, showcasing meerschaum pipes, derby hats, and pince-nez glasses as emblems of nonconformity. The super-defier pig nose creature goes back even further, from around the time of the Gerald R. Ford (or early Carter) administration. It was taken from a unique booklet called The Book of Srang (a misspelling of "strange"), drawn by a childhood friend. The book was created with ballpoint pen on ruled notebook paper bound with masking tape. Included also are a poem by myself and Todd Mecklem, during the period when we collaborated frequently on these German-titled poems and stories.

May and June, 1988

I picked up this photo at an estate sale or flea market, I think, years ago. The image looks to be from around 1910-20 or thereabouts, judging from the car. The building and setting have a institutionally creepy atmosphere, reminding me of a place where the unsunned and stunned haunt the hallways. (The edifice could be some kind of school or Catholic establishment or something as well.) There is no caption on the back -- I imagine the photo could have been taken in Oregon or the Northwest, although it could be anywhere. Perhaps a botanist might have some clues from the flora, native or otherwise. The edges of the paper indicate they were ripped from a scrapbook.

Recent read: The Simulacra, by Philip K. Dick. As with many science fiction books, his extrapolations on technology and politics were sometimes farsighted and sometimes not. You've got public phone booths and the USSR on one side, and electronic passkey badges and android versions of Konrad Adenauer on the other (ok, we don't have the latter yet, as far as we know). Anytime you've got Hermann Goering and radiation-created Neanderthals together in the same tome you've got my attention.

Oscar Bravo Lima

The cover of Vagubund, a one-shot mini I did back in the day; and a related, time-exposed, spectral antique photo of Latourell Falls. The cover is by Roman Scott; printed from an image he cut from a block of wood, while scanning a moss formation on the cliff face at Latourell Falls. The area around the Falls, including the quiet semi-populated town of Latourell, is a monument to both the Missoula Floods and the wistful dreams of humanity.

The mysterious lichen eidolon (a sort of naturally-formed, shamanic turtle or snake) depicted in the woodcut is still laved by the waterfall.
"Wie damals, so heute." One can almost see the moss spectre to the right side of the cascade on this old postcard. The photographers, Cross & Dimmitt, were well-known for their images of the Columbia Gorge, as one can find out by entering their names in a web search. The caption references the Columbia River Highway, so the picture must have been exposed sometime in or after the 1913-22 period when the road was created (according to Wikipedia at least).