Betty Jo Anne Fisher was born November 6, 1939 in Lafayette, Indiana, the third of four children. It appears they moved to Florida around 1945, then later migrated to San Diego, California after her younger brother was born. She grew up in Pacific Beach and despite a strict mother, would find ways to taunt rules, break free and run away.
When she finally was able to get out of the house, BJ was able to support herself as a bookkeeper. But she wasn’t happy at it and spent most of her life experimenting with different jobs. Sometimes she would bluff her way into positions for which she had absolutely no training or experience; from Conversion Analyst (she brought down a large insurance billing system), to Limo Driver (toting around rock stars) to Private Investigator and Interior Designer. An example of her flirtation with different personas was when she worked at Gucci’s on Rodeo Drive for two weeks, then grabbed her sister and daughter to stay in Mexico as a Travel Photographer for the next month.
More than anything, she wanted to be a star. She took guitar, ballet, modeling and acting lessons. It was said that she really did not need the acting lessons.
BJ was an impetuous romantic, which led to five marriages (two of which actually overlapped), four divorces, one annulment, and a common law husband. One of her husbands had to go underground, and so she lived off the grid with him for many years. During this time, they moved discreetly from town to town, gambling for their income.
She had begun experimenting with paints and ink drawings on and off for awhile. When she and her outlaw husband ended up in a safe house in Santa Monica, they had to keep a pretty low profile. This is where she began to really focus on drawing. By 1981, Betty Jo had changed her name (and general identity) to Elizabeth, a name she felt was more in keeping with being an Artist.
Because her husband was a fugitive, Elizabeth had to use her sister’s address to obtain a driver’s license. But as the trail became hotter, they had to separate. In 1983, Elizabeth returned to San Diego, although she could not work on any official basis, much less file taxes by this point. She and her sister, got together and rented a trendy apartment loft in uptown Hillcrest, perfect for a couple of Artists. Somewhere around the mid-1980s, they both ended up moving to West Hollywood, where Elizabeth worked as the Restaurant Manager at the Los Angeles Tennis Club. It was here she met David, the love of her life. While she was in L.A. she lived in the servant’s quarters of one of the homes off the golf course, perfect for her to spend hours and hours drawing and experimenting with pointillism.
Her sister returned to San Diego, but Elizabeth stayed in L.A. and continued to immerse herself in her pen-and-inks and sought to find a way to make a living at it. She tried greeting cards and album covers, but wasn’t finding a market. So she drew for herself mostly. David died suddenly of a heart attack, and she never really got over him. She kept his ashes in little bottles all around the apartment.
It appears that she was initially diagnosed with Lung Cancer around December 2004, and after a few surgeries and a brief attempt at chemotherapy she died on April 23, 2006. When she passed, diva that she was, her hair was pulled back neatly in a perfect bun, as was her style; and her nails were perfect, her skin flawless.
She left behind an exquisite collection of drawings, many of them unfinished.