If you want someone to come over to see your etchings, you'd better have some that do the trick.
Twenty-two masterful prints, classically created, from etched copper plates, make up this body of work, based on that simple premise . . . "Somthing that will work!"
This is a cautionary tale of Maxwell's cat in heat.
Some of the original edition etchings are still available.
Archival 140# Arches Cover paper, Ivory black ink.
Matted, Framed, and numbered, prices start at $175.
Reprints using Lithography start at $50 unframed.
These images may be licenced for commercial use.
The art work that follows is licensed by:
(Aids Community, Counseling, Education, and Support Services), under their fundrasing arm AHAC (AIDS hits all colors).
The image is on greeting cards, postcards, small posters, tee-shirts (short and long sleeve), sweat shirts, coffee mugs.
It is used on labels for soap and coffee products, proceeds from the sale of these products support education in the schools.
Maxwell designed a quilt panel for the Names Project in memorial for 50 people from the Mendocino Coast.
To order products or for a catalog call:
ADVICE I'D GIVE A FRIEND, WHO DOES NOT KNOW WHICH WAY TO TURN
Go shopping, get yourself to a clothing store.
Hunt out a black cotton tee-shirt,find one in your size and hold it up to a mirror, see how you look.
Remember, you're giving it to yourself; it's for your grief.
Shop for a bargain, but buy the best - it matters, as does grieving.
Safe at home, take the labels off. It's yours now, you know what its for.
Put it on and wear it fresh, unwashed, black as grief.
In the window look at yourself looking back. Use it as an undershirt, but wear it as if you are hiding something.
Feel it ride next to your skin.
At first wash it alone; don't let the dye travel to your other clothes. At night wear it as a layer - feel the thickness you've put on, a barrier to the cold.
Wash it often. Be cautious of it - prize that shirt.
Never wear it in the rain.
On a warm day, wear it loose, untucked. Let your top shirt stay unbuttoned, tails flopping free.
Try not to think of yourself, but that the tee-shirt stands for your grief.
Judge how people look in black.
Pride yourself in full ownership. Let no lint cloud it's blackness. Later, wash it along with your other clothes. Fold it lovingly - it means so much. Put it away and take it out again.
That shirt will age, and time will pass. Then, I promise you, one day light will catch that shirt, and you will see it as the blackest green of spring.
©James Maxwell 1997