Lisa Jones, director
Born and reared in the Midwest – a modest place unfit to host the dashing dignity of someone like Jackie Honikman – Jones graduated with a degree in photojournalism from the University of Kansas, leaving soon thereafter to document regions as far-reaching as China, Egypt, Great Britain and Morocco.

In retrospect, Jones would discover that none of these electrifying locales could even approach the exotic allure – that elusive je ne sais quoi – that Jackie is capable of flipping on and off so effortlessly, like a glowing veranda porch light drawing summer moths to her dazzling flame.

At that point in her nascent career, Jones considered heeding the Siren’s call to Hollywood, but in a moment of painful clarity – a glancing blow from a passing fire truck – she was seized with the idea that she wasn’t ready to work with artists of Jackie’s inestimable caliber, and humbly relocated to Australia to pay her dues, photographing for clients such as The Queensland Performing Arts Trust, the Lyric Opera of Queensland, and the Twelfth Night Theatre Company.

Upon her return to the US, Jones could no longer fight the inevitable, and migrated to Los Angeles, where she worked as a unit still photographer in the film industry before turning to acting herself. Sure, it was fun meeting David Bowie, and that rascal Christopher Walken was a breath of clear-eyed elegance in a quotidian world; even Holly Hunter could not have been more gracious when bumped into at the Governor’s Ball – but in each situation, Jones couldn’t help but wonder . . . What would Jackie have made of this endeavor? What brilliant-but-disconcerting insights would she have brought to our petite tete a tete’s and pas de deux's?

And then, seven years later, Jones met Jackie. In that moment of recognition, an unfamiliar sensation came over her, a soft nudge followed by a rousing snap between the eyes. It was Destiny handing her a warm towel and 30 cc’s of collagen.

Because seeing Jackie was like looking at a younger version of the person she wished she was.

Inspired by her profound new connection - which was even better than reading The Artist's Way - Jones channeled her own love of acting into her experience in directing actors for gallery and editorial sessions, and began directing theatre, including The Man with the Plastic Sandwich, Sea Marks, Sins of the Father, and the short film Margot Moodey's Life - admittedly, projects which all could have been improved (at least financially, by Jackie's sparkling presence.