The Big Picture Picture Book

1st ed. in 1983 (probably in June or July), 64 copies with a salmon color cover. Enlarged digest format. This was my first comic with a Pullman, Washington imprint. All of it was actually drawn in Olympia, Washington. Looking at my copy, I suspect it was printed in Oly right before my anticipated move to Pullburg. The printer I was using in Oly at that time (now out of business) usually did a pretty crappy job, including the washed out solids in this edition.

2nd ed., October 1983, 30 copies, creme cover, enlarged digest. This is the one I've scanned and posted.

3rd ed., April 1984, 20 copies, yellow cover, enlarged digest.

4th ed., June 1984, 30 copies, green cover, enlarged digest.

Apparently this was available as a print-on-demand comic for a brief time starting in the spring of 1996, regular digest format.

1st Danger Room Reprint Ed., June 2005, 5 copies, pink cover, regular digest format.

Read this comic to get the answers on all the big questions of life.

I still have both of the albums mentioned on P. [2] of the cover.

"21 Uses For Your College Diploma" was originally drawn for a Bellingham, Washington tabloid but the publisher flaked out and paper never saw print as far as I know.

"Crossfire" was my pretentious way of reconciling my Methodist upbringing with reality. Yes, I believe there is a God. No, I don't believe in any religion.

"How Our Universe Was Born" has a poke at the art establishment, again. While reviewing this I just discovered this story has a secret message. Can you find it?

"Nihil Mutantur"-- I am among the most sedentary of men.

Phone photo 96

Beacon Rock, Columbia River, Skamania County, Washington on a dark, overcast day looming like brooding giant. Named by Lewis and Clark in 1805. This volcanic core monolith is about 850 feet tall.

Steve Willis at Evergreen

On the right hand margin of this blog you'll see a link to "Steve Willis at Evergreen." I was asked several years ago by the alumni folks to provide an essay on my experience at The Evergreen State College and how it shaped my cartooning.

So I did. It wasn't exactly a glowing account of the school, and I was quite frankly surprised they posted it online for all the world to see.

For whatever reason, it has been yanked within the last year. And the link just goes to a rather anemic and incomplete bibliography. But, thanks to the Internet Archive Wayback machine, I have located the original post and am bringing it back to life since I get asked all the time about the 1970s TESC cartooning crowd. Here it is:

Evergreen Alumni Writers Project
Steve Willis The Evergreen State College, BA, 1979 University of Washington, ML, 1982 Memories I attended Evergroove, off and on, from 1974 to 1979. Most of my time as a student was spent extending my adolescence as much as possible. I had no real direction or burning ambition, and was able to take advantage of TESC's anarchy to bounce from quarter to quarter trying on different ideas. So I learned, the hard way, what I didn't want to do. I didn't want to be an attorney, a social worker, a land use planner, or cartoonist. OK, I should qualify that last bit. I didn't want to be a cartoonist for a living. Before the creation of the term "zines," I had been self-publishing comic books inspired by the undergrounds since 1973. At TESC, between 1976-1978 I self-pubbed four books, all of them a source of great embarrassment today but at the time real stepping stones in my development as an outcast geek. By the time I graduated, I liked drawing what I damn well pleased and by 1981 had become active in the obscure and wild world of postunderground comix. The advent of cheaper, more accessible photocopy technology had brought a lot of folks like myself out of the woods and we formed a network, initially called "Newave", with Clay Geerdes of Berkeley acting as the godfather. From here, I could go on and get into a mini-history of this significant and frequently overlooked chapter of comic art. Or I could shift to late 1979 when I was driving a taxicab in Burlington, Vermont, and the story about how I went from transporting drunks home at night to becoming a librarian. But I'll return to the school we used to call, "The Evergrowing State Crisis." I lived in A-Dorm during my first quarter in 1974, and quickly discovered that my neighbor also drew cartoons. He was a real nice guy with a wicked sense of humor named Matt Groening. We became pleasant acquaintances and when he was assigned editor of THE COOPER POINT JOURNAL he did something extraordinary. Matt wanted to start a comic page, something the CPJ had previously never seen. Groening rounded up and recruited those of us who he knew liked cartooning, and then he managed to convert some fine artists, like Lynda Barry, to the world of comix. This was the only time in my life that I was ever around several other cartoonists for any length of time. Since we are a species that generally dwell alone in basement apartments, I can't say it was real comfortable. For my own part, being rural and provincial with a group of hip urban hustlers was something of a culture shock. But Matt was always very encouraging and positive. During the later half of the 1970s, Evergreen experienced a subtle shift from being a libertarian to authoritarian Leftist campus. Since cartoonists (at least the good ones) are irreverent by nature, the CPJ crew were the first to experience what would later be known as the terror of political correctness. Matt had set out to antagonize the school's administration and faculty. But his humor was so sharp and advanced, that his intended target became his most avid fans. The students, on the other hand, went ballistic when TESC satire appeared in the pages of the CPJ. The cartoons of Charles Burns in particular seemed to rile them. I can recall Matt sitting behind his desk, head buried in hands, moaning, "I didn't mean for it to turn out this way." I could almost use those exact words about my career as a student at Evergreen, except that I didn't really have a plan when I entered in 1974. And I didn't have a plan when I graduated in 1979. In TESC's favor, I must say that I might not have attended college if it hadn't been there. I was attracted to the place because overweight guys in suits up in the Capitol dome were trying to close it every legislative session. In the 1970s, at least in the earlier part, the school was dangerous, electric, a circus. But as it grows in national stature, becoming fat, happy, and complacent, with a well established inbred culture, I find myself no longer identifying with the school. We just grew in different directions.

Phone photo 95

Rochester, Washington

Little Snowjob

It took awhile to track him down, but Marc Myers was finally located, contacted, and has given his permission to have this minicomic jam scanned and posted.

This is one of the more unusual jams in my experience. Marc came clear from Nebraska and stayed as our house guest during a snowy time in Pullman, Washington in early 1986. We sat at a table and passed this back and forth. Living in an isolated spot like Pullburg made it a rare treat to draw with another comix comrade in person and not via the Postal Service.

The title was one of those beautiful accidents. We both came up with a different word in secret, and then let Dada combine them. Marc came up with Little, I with Snowjob. When we put them together I remember laughing with delight. And, I believe I did go to get hamburgers in a snowstorm, as Marc wrote in the caption.

The comic was printed on both sides of a single letter-sized sheet and then folded with no cuts. The folded finished product measured at 11 x 7 cm. I have provided a scan of both sides of the side to display the way it was pasted up.

I published the 1st ed. in early 1986, 40 copies. My copy is blue.

Little Snowjob was offered as a print-on-demand title for awhile in my Reprint Series, starting in September 1994.

Marc has been one of the more overlooked and least understood of the Newave cartoonists. Rather ironic considering he embodied so many of the qualities we liked to champion. His work was totally original, he had no commercial motives, and he was ultra obscure. His print runs made mine look like Newsweek or Time. He was more of a visual artist than a storytelling cartoonist, frequently using collage techniques.

No history of the Newave comix movement would be complete without seriously considering the work of Marc Myers.

I always enjoyed his sense of humor. One time in 1983 he wrote to me about box elder bugs in the Cornhusker State. That is not an insect we see around here, so I asked him what sort of insect this was. Next thing I know he sent me one, taped to the back of his Selective Service notice, with a notice "Box Elder Bug (Dead)."

In Pullman, I recall Marc could do a pretty dead on imitation of Peter Sellers as Inspector Clouseau. He even had the hat, I think.

Marc and I also jammed on Morty Comix #1430, 1431, 1433, 1439. Along with Pullman cartoonist Clint Hollingsworth, the three of us produced Morty Comix #1432.

Phone photo 94

Bezango WA 985 #8

1st ed., December 12, 2002. 40 copies, blue cover.

1st Danger Room Reprint Ed., June 2005, five copies (1 red, 1 green, 1 blue, 1 pink, 1 yellow).

This was the final issue of the series, meaning there are only 45 complete sets of Bezango WA 985.

The "Conspiracy" theme issue includes wild Russian boars, which truly do run around this county.

"Grover" was a nod to Grover Krantz, who I was acquainted with when I lived in Pullman, Washington, home of Washington State University.

The GHC on a t-shirt is for Grays Harbor College in Aberdeen, Washington. And here we find another disturbing mascot, Charlie Choker.

Most of the world probably doesn't know the local meaning of "choker." It is a highly dangerous job in the logging industry. But to the outside world, they probably react with as much shock as they do to the previously mentioned Orofino Maniacs.

Uriah is based on the elderly gentleman I referenced in Phone photo 59. "Impeach Earl Warren" signs used to be a very common sight in neighboring rural Lewis County.

I was about halfway through Bezango WA 985 #9, but my computer crashed and all the text went with it. I took that as a sign to stop the series and move on. Several of the drawings I had in store for #9 were used later in Cranium Frenzy #10.

Phone photo 93

McCleary VFW Hall

Bezango WA 985 #7

1st ed., November 16, 2002, 41 copies, blue cover.

Print-on-demand for a brief time starting with Jan. 25, 2003. I'm pretty sure that by March 2003 I was no longer keeping this series in print.

1st Danger Room Reprint Ed., June 2005. Five copies (1 blue, 1 green, 1 yellow, 1 pink, 1 red).

This one is my favorite in the series. The initial character was very loosely based on an eccentric member of an influential family just across the Columbia River in Astoria, Oregon.

The Columbus Day Storm of 1962 was the by far the very worst in living memory in the Pacific Northwest. And I'm one of those living with a memory of it. My family was residing in Olympia in 1962.

And speaking of memory, I'm sure when I invented the shapeless black birds I had an allegory for them all in mind. But whatever it was, the original concept has escaped me, so now I'm as mystified as the rest of you-- which is kind of neat. It isn't unusual for me to read this old stuff as if a different person actually created it. I guess in a way, I was a different person back then.

I do know that I partly based the fowls on those fat little greasy mooch birds that always hung out at the Dick's Drive-In chain in Seattle and scarfed up loose fries. I called them Dick Birds.

Bonker Memorial Hospital is a reference to former 3rd District Congressman Don Bonker, a Democrat who was actually a pretty decent politician and is now retired.

The Bezango Lunatics were inspired by the real-life Orofino Maniacs (Orofino, Idaho). Orofino is also home to Idaho State Hospital North, an institution providing service for those with mental illness. Supposedly, even though the history of the hospital traces back to 1905, the psychotic mascot predates that. But it doesn't matter. The fact Orofino High School still maintains the use of the Maniac comes across as so incredibly socially clueless it really makes that dark humor pool in my cranium swirl with delight.

We used to have a guy here in McCleary just like Sparky. He wasn't a judge but he was a town pillar.

Phone photo 92

"In memory of the Steam Donkey Logger"
On display in Beerbower Park, McCleary, Washington
Donated by Ted, the subject of the minicomic I posted earlier, Ted

Bezango WA 985 #6

1st ed., September 1, 2002, 40 copies, blue cover.

Print-on-demand for a short period starting November 16, 2002.

1st Danger Room Reprint Ed., June 2005. 5 copies (1 red, 1 blue, 1 green, 1 yellow, 1 pink).

The "It's the Arts" themed issue.

Trivia. Page 4: Based on a real performer I witnessed at The Evergreen State College open mic night in the student center in the 1970s. Page 6: Those twin WPPSS towers are still standing today. Incredible. Page 9: Homer T. Bone was a real person, another colorful character who represented Washington State in that other Washington. Page 13: McCleary has had several newspapers in the history of the town. One of them was called, and I'm not kidding, The McCleary Stimulater. And the Capitol Theater in Olympia was the inspiration for this character. The place that is now the home of the Olympia Film Society (and where Peter Bagge and I held a panel discussion last summer) really did have a little plywood guy like the one described here. Page 14: Both of the real life examples of bulldozer art referenced here appear to be gone now.

Phone photo 91

McCleary, Washington

Phone photo 90

This McCleary, Washington gravel lot was once home to an old-timey movie theater and later auction hall-- the one I described in the microcomic Pop. 1075 posted Sept. 10. The building burned down around 2003, I think. The grey sky and giant mudpuddles are the norm around here. That hill in the background is probably crawling with mountain beavers.