Frank, and Jim Woodring in general, had been at the periphery of my senses for decades—at others' houses on their bookshelves, for example, or a random person out in the world wearing a Pupshaw or Pushpaw tee-shirt. They probably appeared a bit closer to my awareness after having read "Understanding Comics" where I think Frank was used as an example in a couple of places.
But while I never really registered Frank, or Jim Woodring, my subconscious did. Because when I first picked up a Frank comic book, one of many anthologized in this series, I was immediately tuned into these characters and landscapes, like I'd been there before. The images intrinsically cause that deja-vu feeling anyway. The real shocker, the "this is one-step-beyond genius and madness" moment for me came when the first story I read, and then any subsequent, started going south on Frank. The journeys Frank takes opened up whole new avenues in both my consciousness, and my appreciation for the skills it took to imagine and then draw this. And an amazingly clear narrative in a surreal landscape using no words?
This is the good stuff, be careful with it.