It was a March morning in 2003 when the people in Madison who had commissioned the enigmatic artist Dr. Evermor to create two large bird sculptures came to pick up the finished product.

The sculptures, known as "Dreamkeepers," can be seen today in all their glory at 211 S. Paterson St. There was a nice dedication ceremony in June 2003.

Three months earlier, however, when the sculptures were to be picked up, all had not gone smoothly. At one point Dr. Evermor picked up his phone and left the following message on a friend's answering machine: "They're trying to steal the ... birds! Bring guns, money and whiskey -- whatever you've got and get over here now!"

What's an artist without a few quirks?

Quirky, brilliant, colorful, mysterious -- the Dr. Evermor who emerges from the pages of a new book, "A Mythic Obsession: The World of Dr. Evermor," just published by the Chicago Review Press, is all that and more.

The book captures the metal artist whose sculpture park off Highway 12 between Sauk City and Baraboo has drawn visitors from around the world, many wanting a look at Evermor's huge Forevertron, a 300-ton scrap-metal sculpture (once the world's largest, according to Guinness) that Evermor claims will one day take him into outer space.

The book also reveals the man behind the myth, without dwelling unduly on the demons that haunt many creative people and cause them, well, to make telephone calls to friends demanding guns, money and whiskey.

The author is Tom Kupsh, former creative director of the House on the Rock, near Spring Green. That's where Kupsh first met Evermor, before he was Evermor. It was in the 1970s, when the good doctor was known as Tom Every, a Madison native who was helping Alex Jordan collect and build at the House on the Rock.

Every eventually fell out with Jordan, and left the House. Kupsh last saw Every in 1982, around the time Every had the epiphany, described in the book, that ended with him assuming the Dr. Evermor persona.

There are several strange aspects to the Evermor story, and one of them is how in 2004, 22 years since he had last seen Tom Every, Kupsh woke up one day at 4 a.m. with the conviction that he should write a book about Every/Evermor.

Kupsh was so excited he woke his wife and declared his intention.

"What time is it?" she said.

Kupsh drove up Highway 12 to the sculpture park, which is across the highway from the Badger Army Ammunition Plant. The property is owned by Jim Delaney, who runs an adjacent surplus store and has allowed Dr. Evermor to use the land for more than two decades now.

There was no one around when Kupsh arrived, but there was a sign with a phone number that belonged to Evermor's former wife, Eleanor, who handles the business end of the sculpture park. Both Evermor (though slowed by a recent stroke) and Eleanor were open to Kupsh's book idea. They spoke at length and encouraged others to cooperate as well.

When he received a few of the finished books last week, Kupsh drove back up Highway 12 with copies inscribed to both Tom and Eleanor. "Eleanor was in tears," Kupsh said, and Tom -- Dr. Evermor -- "was pleased beyond words." The book is enhanced by many photographs of Evermor's work shot by Madison photographer Jim Wildeman.

The story of "Dreamkeepers," the birds that eventually roosted on Madison's East Side, gets an entire chapter in the book. The work had been commissioned by Don Warren, owner of Warren Heating and Air Conditioning in Madison, a longtime admirer of Dr. Evermor 's creations. An advance was paid and Evermor went to work on the birds at his son's place in Cooksville.

The details are in the book, but suffice it to say the artist began to fall in love with his creation, immersing himself in the project to the point where the agreed-upon fee seemed insufficient. A standoff resulted, and it ended only when the Madison contingent went to court and eventually showed up in Cooksville to claim the birds, Evermor's frenzied phone calls notwithstanding.

By the dedication three months later, tempers had cooled. Madison's East Side turned out in large numbers. Dr. Evermor spoke graciously. Jim Wildeman, who had helped engineer the truce, offered this description of the artist to Kupsh: "He's bizarre but consistent."