Draplindustries Gazette #23: November 2000

Big news from Eric Campbell, New Hampshire Division: Ma Nature stepped in and delivered some good news in the form of critter arrivals. Megan's fertile soils have a small miracle developing as you read this. Breathe easy, this project is fully sanctioned by the Draplindustries Design Co, our first of the sort. I can't tell you how amazing the phonecall was from Eric, I was in full goose-bump mode! All of us here wish the expecting parental units 9 months of health and happiness. May is the big month.

A word to the little one: "Godspeed you angel-straight-from-heaven, burrow in and kick back -- we'll see you in the spring!"

- - - -

We decided to go to Vegas on Memorial Day. We were feelin' lucky. No strangers to the glitz of the strip, we loaded the Mazda and head east over the mountains dropping down into the Mojave desert. As we approached the dry expanses, the uneventful topography reminded me of a rock band, their package designs and the haunting sounds they made together -- music + design = this magical set of images of faraway lands. So I pulled the rig over in the hot desert sun, grabbed the map and notified the better half we were gonna veer off the beaten path a bit.

We headed down the lonely road into the western edge of the Mojave Desert national monument, greeted by prickly fields of Joshua Trees on either side of us.

The catalyst of this expedition is a band called Scenic. Headed by one Bruce Licher, they create these landscapes of sound -- inspired by lonely southwestern expanses, textures and colors. He also handles the design and fabrication of the albums and discs, the most amazing pieces of letter-pressed wonders you'll ever unfold. So over the last couple years, reading the liner notes, guided by feel of the music, savoring the desolate images -- in my mind I was catapulted into a lonely desert -- alone and at peace with the desolation. Titles like "The road to Ivanpah" and "Incident at Cima" puzzled me. Were these fictional places and events? I had to find out for myself. And someday, I would venture into the southwest in search of the lands that inspired these guys.

So here we were, flying along in the middle of nowhere -- but, in the middle of somewhere alright -- the open road expanses that went on seemingly forever in front of us blurred into a slightly convex desert horizon. I drove along, crossing roads that correlated with moments in the disc -- the delicate packaging unfolded on the dashboard for quick reference. Every couple miles I'd jump out and snap off a couple shots -- visions of Licher's images inspiring every shutter click. Some consider the desert a wasteland -- a big area of nothing -- and that is exactly what I loved so much about it. No strip malls or rumbling freeways. Time stood still as the hot sun beat down on me, perched outside of the rig, miles and miles of "nothing" in my viewfinder. Beautiful.

Melissa couldn't believe the words that were coming out of my mouth: "I think I want to live out here someday." I couldn