Now here is an exhibit that will definitely turn a few heads. Kim Jones, a member of the performance art scene that came out of 1970s Los Angeles, will be presenting a collection of his work starting Oct. 19 at the Henry Art Gallery.

Spanning all 50 years of his career as an artist, the exhibit Kim Jones –— A Retrospective will feature an array of artistic mediums.

“Drawings, models, I’ll even be doing a performance piece,” Jones said.

“I started as a child in the ‘50s drawing out war games … Xs and Os as soldiers on the battlefield. People seemed to like it.”

This seems rather ironic, as much of his output-to-come would contain undertones of the violence and aggression of his later involvement in the Vietnam War.

As for his work it is, simply put, otherworldly. His mediums are as diverse as his artistic subjects and the unifying core imagery is his affinity for the mildly grotesque.

“For one showing I made a series of giant frog penises,” Jones said.

The artist also frequently uses raw materials like the pin-up pictures from the street that he would draw over.

As an art student, Jones attended the Chouinard Art Institute (later to become the California Art Institute), where he studied performance and body-based art, and subsequently became involved in the emerging performance art scene in Los Angeles.

During one live performance art piece, he set three live rats ablaze.

“Having been drafted into the (Vietnam) war, critics like to call me a crazed war veteran.” Jones disagrees, and with reason. “If you’re crazy, you can’t make art.”

Dadaism, Fluxus, Eva Hesse and Bruce Nauman are some of Jones’ influences. There you have it. Dadaism: the 1920s breeding ground for the “anti-art” movement, where performance pieces and audience shock-value took precedence over calculated significance. Fluxus: The artistic attitude incorporating fun, simplicity and childlike whims into artistic events.

In the ‘70s, due to a culmination of these artistic sentiments and a personal history marked by war and ailment (as a child Jones was confined to a wheelchair), he created “Mudman.” Caked in mud and burdened by a primitive-looking lattice of foam and rope attached to his back, he wandered the streets of Los Angeles, an apparition appearing not from this time or space or even from this world.

With the advent of “Mudman,” Jones took his artistic language to a physical, even personal level, and freaked a bunch of people out in the process. Is he a soldier? A shaman? A homeless vagrant? A lost Homo habilis? Perhaps all of the above. You will have the pleasure of deciding for yourself on the night of Oct. 19, when “Mudman” appears at the gallery opening.

But even aside from his Friday performance, this is a must-see exhibit. Not considering his reputation as a groundbreaking performance artist and all around art-scene mixer, Jones’ work speaks to something deeper than the eye. It speaks of violence, sexuality, remoteness and even civil rights. His layered images, ramshackle objects and simple drawings are genuinely inspiring. You will be amazed, and maybe even a little bit freaked out.