B.N. Duncan was one of the most relentlessly creative people I’ve ever met. In the 30 years I knew him, I don’t remember a single day going by when Duncan wasn’t creating something: writing, drawing, photographing, painting, sculpting, publishing.
The art flowed out of him naturally and effortlessly. If not compulsively. Like eating and sleeping and breathing. And probably just as necessary to him. He wasn’t an artist who waited around for “inspiration” to strike — he was always inspired. And you’d never hear him talk about “writer’s block.” Are you kidding?? He couldn’t have stopped it from coming if he had wanted to.
These are some of the publications B.N. Duncan produced during his lifetime. And I was there for the creation of most of them. Looking over his shoulder as he first came up with the idea, then worked to create the piece, and then finally produced the finished product.
One of my favorite Duncan moments was right after the latest issue of his magazine TELE TIMES had been published. Hot off the presses. Duncan would take out a copy — the ink still shiny and barely dried. And he’d lie on his big brass bed in his cramped little hotel room on the fourth floor of the Berkeley Inn. With a warm cup of coffee and a pack of smokes. And he’d lovingly leaf through every page, every word.