A refugee from California and New York, I was in a beach house in Oregon overlooking a foggy coastline and the Pacific Ocean. I placed a call to the academic department director at the Art Institute of Portland who was to hire me to develop a course in the history of graphic design, in order to finalize the arrangements and get started on the project. She proceeded to relate to me what had happened to the World Trade Centers and the Pentagon. The rest of the weekend was spent in a fog – literally, a heavy one, in front of my eyes – punctuated with assaulting and arresting visual images of the attacks on the monoliths.
