Sit Up Kitty.

This is a sticker stuck in a phonebooth in Mumbai, Maharashtra India. Peel it off. Stick in in your journal.

1966

Collage, 10" x 6".

When I was 4, we left Portland for the Arizona desert. We rolled through Southern California at the time of the Sunset Strip Rock and Roll Riots. When we opened the car trunk in Phoenix, all my sister's vinyl records were melted in half. She cried. Music was changing. TV was going from black and white to color.
When we came back to Portland in '67, the world was different. More beautiful. I was different. Within a month I was enrolled at Kennedy Elementary School, where little girls started wearing yellow print dresses with large lavender flowers. Full color consciousness was reaching the blue collar neighborhoods.

(Note the distressed "Phillips 66" gas station sticker in the center of this collage. A proud symbol of a brave new world.)

Change is a Pendulum Which Undoes Itself

Pencil and ink on paper, 9.5" x 7.5".

Sometimes I am afraid to draw.

I draw anyway. My reluctance creates wobbly distortion.

I began this drawing with no plan. A round head and small body. I thought of President Obama, and threw his face in there, surrounded by a broken halo. His body became a reaching hand with crippled feet. The halo became a clock. This president was inaugurated with such high hopes. Time has distorted him, as it distorts us all. The change he promised has changed.

This clock has a pendulum, swinging then negating that swing. This impermanence is the action of our pumping heart, pushing blood out and drawing it back again, the nature of life itself. Creation and destruction.

Sculpin

"Sculpin." Inkpen on paper superimposed over photograph, digitally enhanced, 8" x 14".

Some people call the sculpin an ugly fish. "Ugly" is a judgement thrown by those at things they have no room for. The sculpin asks not for room. She would rather hide, perched on her elbows, in her water. She keeps secrets. When given a rare glimpse of something, as when a fish jumps, it may be difficult to appreciate. Most of the universe's beauty is introverted. Listen carefully. Find the beauty.

My Upcoming Art Exhibition

I am assembling a collection of my pictures for all to see. I would like to invite everyone to come and see these pictures in person, at the school I attended many many years ago: Kennedy Elementary School in Northeast Portland. The school closed in the 1970's and sat vacant for many years. The ghosts ran free.

The building was then rescued from the wrecking ball and transformed into a restaurant and tavern and bed and breakfast and movie theater and live music venue. There are paintings all over the walls and the halls echo with music and children's voices. It is a disarming realm for the serious adult.

This is a great return for me. The idea for this exhibition was inspired by my old friend and fellow Kennedy student Molly Young, and my new friend and fellow Kennedy student Ed Knowles. They devised this event and let me run away with it.

At Kennedy everybody called me Eddie. As a young adult I shortened it to "Ed." Finally, upon reaching middle age, all of my identification and bills are labeled with my legal name, "Maitland Jones." Maitland Jones is more unique and I like it. Ed is my nickname; almost everybody calls me that. "Ed Jones Dream Language" is an unpretentious stripped down version of myself. I am letting the hidden child run free again.

My pictures are a language. As a language, it is a device for exchange between people. My art is a two-way street. It is important for me to hear what people say in response. Then I will respond.

Then this event will pass to the phantom world.