Ed King's Chapel Hill

The artist who mapped Chapel Hill not by GPS, but by laughter, memory, and a whole lot of ink.

In a time when algorithms define our maps and GPS voices guide our turns, Ed King prefers to draw us home—by hand.

At 74, Ed King is the kind of artist who carries stories in his sketch lines. Known for his recently completed Chapel Hill cartoon map, Ed doesn’t just illustrate cities—he interprets them. He documents not just geography, but personality, culture, and history through his art.

And while you may spot iconic storefronts and familiar Chapel Hill haunts scattered across the canvas, what makes his work truly remarkable is the feeling it evokes: a sense of place that’s both quirky and deeply rooted.

“Usually, as I’m drawing it, it’s already becoming a historical artifact,” he chuckled in a recent interview. “It might take a year and a half to complete, but by the time it’s finished, half the businesses have changed.”

Raised in New York and trained at the High School of Art and Design (until, as he puts it, he was “politely invited not to return”), Ed started his cartooning journey with a second-grade drawing of Abraham Lincoln that beat out every classmate. “That’s when I first realized I had something—a skill maybe.”

After drifting for a few years, Ed returned to art with a different perspective, blending whimsy with cartography. His first town map, drawn in 1982 for Honesdale, Pennsylvania, was done in black and white. “I don’t remember making a dime on it,” he says, “but it was the first time I saw how drawing a town could bring people together.”

In the decades since, Ed has illustrated more than a dozen town maps up and down the East Coast. The Chapel Hill piece may be his last of this scale. “It took longer—not just because I’m older,” he jokes, “but because it’s harder these days to get people to answer an email or return a call. Funny thing, in the age of communication, it’s harder to actually communicate.”

Still, he persisted—knocking on doors, learning local rhythms, and even uncovering surprising truths. One that stood out? “Most of the businesses in downtown Chapel Hill aren’t locally owned. They’re part of small chains that set up in college towns. I didn’t expect that.”

But he found heart, too. “People are people,” he said. “Every town has its mix. Some people will treat you like you’ve known them forever. Some will act like you’re trying to sell them a used blender. It’s always the same blend, wherever I go.”

Beyond the lines and storefronts, Ed’s maps capture character. From student-filled sidewalks to jazz players on corners to landmark buildings framed by Carolina blue skies, his cartoons pulse with movement and memory. And every figure he draws—whether real or imagined—feels like someone you know.

When asked about inspiration, Ed keeps it simple. “Sit at your desk and draw,” he says. “That’s it. If you’re not sitting there, nothing’s coming. And if you are? Something might.”

He credits a mentor—an old comic strip artist—for that advice. It’s a philosophy rooted not just in work ethic but in faith. Faith that something will come. And it always does.

He speaks with a candidness that feels rare these days—especially when the conversation turns to race, identity, and change. Having lived in New York, Pennsylvania, and Maine, Ed was surprised by the depth of integration he’s seen in North Carolina.

“I didn’t expect it,” he admits. “I meet Black engineers and doctors and entrepreneurs here, and I realize how few I ever knew up North. That challenged some things I’d carried with me a long time.”

But Ed is not afraid of being challenged. “You’ve got to notice your bias. That’s how you start to change it.”

As we wrapped our conversation, he mentioned a new map project in a small Maine town, mostly documenting walking trails. “It’s smaller. But I’ll finish it. Eventually,” he says with a grin.

He’s not in a rush. And maybe that’s the point.

Because when you’re Ed King, the art isn’t just in the drawing.

It’s in the way you see the world.