One Southern Artist's Autobiography Art is as necessary as breathing.

    Its somewhat daunting to be asked to write your own biography.  What do I say?  How do I tell you who I am and does anyone even care?  I won't testify to have been influenced by this famous artist or that- even though Picasso WAS a god.  I really love them all.  Mostly and most sincerely my influences are right here in my own life such as it is.  So please endure the occasional run-on sentence and ridiculously embellished adjective and I'll try to keep it brief.
    My name is Jacqueline W. Johnson.  I am a native of North Carolina and I reside here now.  I've always painted.  Always.  I don't know why.  Its just that its something that has to be.  Many things in my life journey to date have tried to snatch me from the path of my own little pursuit of happiness.  A good example is that I have had a fairly short-lived career in the culinary industry.  It had to do with a love for travel and the desire to experience new places not just as a visitor.  It also turns out that a good feel for presentation and color diversity on a plate is strongly related to nutrition- who knew? 
     Travel took me to Seattle where I had a daily 'relationship' with a space ship on a pole.  Surprisingly I really missed it when I could no longer see it.  It took me to Vermont where the mountains were green and lush, cows and red barns around every turn and winters so cold that plastic windshield wipers break in half if you don't thaw your windshield before you turn them on.  Boulder, Colorado- Chapel Hill in the Rockies.  Lahaina, Hawaii, the best smelling place on earth, the warmest ocean swims, the place where you are made fun of if you wear a watch.  I wouldn't change a minute.  Every color, taste, smell, sound and feeling contributes to something that's unexplainable.  Painting in all of these places was a constant.
     Family brought me back and gave me another career.   I began the illustrious pursuit of homebuilding.  I idealistically convinced myself that this would be like big sculptures that people could live in.  Cool.  The reality of speculative building and volumes of 'safe' - translate to 'plain' colors and shapes of the everyday set in.  Don't misunderstand.  Our family produced a quality product but if I wanted to produce the wondrous architecture that I love and adore so much I would have to wake up as I.M. Pei and the last I checked that identity was already taken.  The fickle finger of fate dealt its hand unfortunately in the way of a difficult economic time and made its decision for me.  Still I paint. 
     Well intentioned family have tried to 'save' me from myself my entire life.  In the last few years I've decided to ignore them as any good Southerner learns to do with their families and still I paint.  Don't worry, we still spend time together and believe it or not they are beginning to come around.  Thanks to the support of a few good friends and a husband that is willing to endure the constant aroma of paint thinner I paint.  My mother found out early that it was cheaper to keep me in art supplies than to keep repainting the sheetrock.  Art is a necessity for me and as long as I am able I will paint.  So far my venture into the world as who I really am has been encouraging as well as eye opening.  An Artist really can be an Artist if she wants to be. I know now that not every piece will be for the history books but if I'm lucky then maybe, just maybe one of my paintings will end up as one family's treasured masterpiece to be passed down.  I'm just happy to be painting.  Please enjoy.