Jacqué Price shared their story and experiences with us recently and you can find our conversation below.
Good morning Jacqué, we’re so happy to have you here with us and we’d love to explore your story and how you think about life and legacy and so much more. So let’s start with a question we often ask: Have any recent moments made you laugh or feel proud?
Yes—I’ve just written my first book, and I’m reveling in it. I finally followed through on a vision I’ve carried for twenty years, and completing it feels surreal. I’m proud of what the book is about, but I’m most proud that I finally wrote it.
For years, I was inspired by the idea of writing a book about the competing voices in my head—I wanted it to expose something and be slightly absurd—but I was frightened that entertaining this side of myself would backfire on my style as an artist and the career I’d built. Letting it move beyond my journals shifted something in me. Instead of costing me anything, it made the work stronger—more honest, more whole. I’m taking bigger risks on canvas now, trusting myself more, and my art feels truer than it ever has.
Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
I’m Jacque Price, a California-based painter, writer, and entrepreneur. My work explores emotional and psychological terrain through abstracted landscapes and narrative forms. Across everything I make, I’m interested in how we negotiate uncertainty, identity, and contradiction—and how creativity becomes a way of staying honest with what’s unfolding.
I work from my studio gallery in Capitola, where I paint, write, and teach. I’m currently preparing for a solo presentation at the San Francisco Art Fair, where I’ll debut my new book alongside recent paintings. What sets my work apart is a willingness to take necessary risks, stay curious through discomfort, and remain deeply committed to the process—both in the studio and in life.
Okay, so here’s a deep one: What was your earliest memory of feeling powerful?
My earliest memory of feeling powerful came after a brain injury from a car accident at sixteen. It was a quiet power, rooted in a growing sense of self-trust. I realized that life is precious, and that living is a choice we make every day, with every cell in our body.
That understanding became a belief I carried deeply. It guided me to show up, do the work, and focus on what was within my power to heal, without needing control over the outcome. Holding myself with compassion and hope became a central part of that process. The resolve and empowerment I felt then continue to shape how I live and create.
What did suffering teach you that success never could?
Suffering taught me how to adapt in ways success never could. It asked me to accept what was actually happening, rather than resist what I wished were different. I learned that nothing truly changed until I was honest—with myself, my limits, and my patterns.
When survival depends on how you think, where you focus matters. Suffering removed the comfort of staying naive, and showed me how to move forward by choosing my response to life with intention. That clarity doesn’t come from momentum or praise; it comes from necessity.
Alright, so if you are open to it, let’s explore some philosophical questions that touch on your values and worldview. Whose ideas do you rely on most that aren’t your own?
I rely deeply on the ideas of Carl Jung and Vernon Woolf, through years of personal study and inquiry. Both bodies of work have shaped how I understand our inner world—not as something to fix, but as something to relate to with curiosity and responsibility.
Jung’s writing gave me a language for psyche, shadow, and individuation, helping me see internal tension as meaningful rather than pathological. Woolf’s work in Holodynamics resonated on a more embodied level, influencing how I think about potential, choice, and the way inner patterns shape lived experience.
Neither influence functions as a belief system for me. Instead, they offer frameworks I return to—ways of orienting myself toward honesty, self-relationship, and growth. Together, they’ve deeply informed how I see the world, how I relate to myself, and how I approach both my art and my life as an ongoing process of integration.
Okay, we’ve made it essentially to the end. One last question before you go. Are you doing what you were born to do—or what you were told to do?
I’ve never really done what I was told to do. If I’m honest, I resisted it from the beginning. For a long time, that resistance looked like confusion. I spent years searching for purpose, moving through different paths, studying holistic healing, earning credentials, and trying to force a version of success that I thought might finally make things click. Those years mattered—they shaped me, taught me discipline, curiosity, and self-responsibility—but they never quite felt like home.
Everything changed when I made art my life instead of something I kept on the side. That’s when doors and windows opened, both externally and internally. Life began to feel aligned. I stopped trying to prove myself and started honoring what felt necessary to do. Art didn’t arrive as a career choice—it was already there, in my bones. I never decided to be an artist; I simply was one. Even art school wasn’t about becoming something new, but about giving myself permission to stay with what I loved a little longer.
Now I understand that what I was born to do wasn’t only to make art, but to walk my own path—to listen inward, take risks, and follow what feels inevitable. That commitment continues to shape how I live and create, and it’s what I hope my art reflects.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://jacquepriceart.com
- Instagram: @jacquepriceart
