where's bebs?

one of the absolutely necessarily bizarre aspects of life in ol' capult (does it still exist?) was the regular arrival of eccentrics from the beyond. one of my favorites was a frenchman from seatle going by the alias of bebs. he'd arrive at odd hours of the night and sometimes morning with this crazed raskolnikovesque look in his eyes. thin as a rake with his belt looped around his waist like tom sawyer, he'd fly in and out of the dining room between half-baked adventures around the corner and over the mountains and through the poppy fields.

he was a photographer.

his forte was... bricks. this man loved bricks. bricks in piles, bricks in ovens, bricks on walls, bricks on the ground, flying bricks, broken bricks, red bricks, brown bricks. bebs had photographed them all. and to be fair, capult offered some fine bricks.

anyway, i saw this photograph on my friend's website www.crisispictures.org and it reminded me of bebs: