This imaginative and intricately illustrated fiction book for young adults (and adults), is a trip back into the history of the Pacific Northwest when Native Americans still populated the northern coast of Oregon.
As the sole survivor of a shipwreck centuries ago, Professor Eff Ceffsky awoke in a strange land. Takenin by the native people of the Northwest Pacific Coast, he learned about their culture and recordedhis observations and insights in journals. When he was shown the boundary that the superstitious tribewould not cross, his curiosity was piqued, and he ventured into the unknown. Ceffsky discovered an enormous monolith and the remains of an advanced ancient civilization. While exploring the structures, he documented his findings, along with detailed drawings. Lost for centuries, remains of those journals were found and meticulously restored. They are presented here in this study by historian Oscar Writenhous.
In the window of a small, rustic gallery on the corner of First and Hemlock Street in the village of Cannon Beach, Oregon, the artist, William Steidel can often be found. He sits behind a simple but ingenious swing-out easel, surrounded by a hodgepodge of artistic tools and paraphernalia. Here Bill produces his particular brand of magic. He creates works of art, spins yarns, makes music, watches the passing parade of people, and delights in the view of the lush green mountains that lie in the distance. The passions of artistic philosophy emerged very early in Bill's life on a small farm in Newburgh, New York. His work has progressed through the years from his time spent as a student at Columbia University, Pratt Institute, Northern Arizona University, and the University of Oregon, to his ensuing life experiences. Bill's journey inspired him to open his first independent gallery and studio in Cannon Beach in the 1950s. Inside the present-day gallery is a touch of whimsy and wonder, and if you are fortunate, you are apt to find a bit of yourself present on the gallery's walls. "Art, I find, is an emotional food. It gives us nourishment. We feed on its many forms, and if at times it jars too roughly, tickles too uncomfortably, or soothes too frequently, it would, if not available, be sorely missed. If we were unfortunate enough to lose it, we would once more create it so we could debate why it is so very necessary."
