Sara Lynn Morgan Reichtmann
Feb 14 1944-May 2 2012
It was a very hot Saturday afternoon, July 18th 2010. I was set up to do my very first out door art festival at the Briar country Club in Jacksons Point, Sutton Ontario. I didn't know enough to try and book a spot in the shade and there I was baking in the un bridled sweltering July Sun.
Attendance was good at best, most people would rather stay inside their nice cool air conditioned cottages along Hedge Road on lake Simcoe's south East shore, and most did that day. There were a few brave souls who ventured out into the scalding heat to pay some tribute to the poor starving artists sitting out there hawking their wares, thank God for them.
Then there she was. Tanned dark skin like leather, gold jewelry accenting her neck and wrists, wearing black shorts and top, marching across the wide open lawn right over to my humble little canopy tent. No hesitation, just walked right on in. Most people are a bit shy to enter but not her. She looked closely at each and every painting, as if to measure and absorb every detail. Then she turned to me, reached out her hand and introduced herself:
"I'm Sara Morgan-Reichtman, we own condo's around the distillery District, Canary Warf, and many other properties around the world. I like your art!"
Then she asked me this question:
"Would you mind, I mean, I don't want to be an affront to your work but if I may I'd like to give you some advice that I think you would do well by?"
She began to describe how to use outlines and edges on my foreground strokes that would create the impression of being detached from the back ground and giving my paintings a more three dimensional effect. She went on in great lengths and I soaked up every word. It just made sense. She seemed to know exactly what she was talking about.
She certainly did know for what she spoke of. It would be the beginning of a very wonderful and colourful friendship.
Before she left that afternoon Sara invited me to visit with her in her home on the waterfront and I did. Conversation there was brief as she made a point of introducing me to her already present guests. "This is my friend and an artist who will be very well known one day soon". She believed in me.
As one mutual friend puts it, "Sara was a person who once you met her you never forgot her, and she always made an unforgettable verbal impression on you". Those words could not be truer.
Over the next and last two and a half years I had the honour of becoming one of her closest and most trusted friends. She confided in me about her most personal cares and concerns. She trusted me and to that end I trusted her no less.
Sara's insight into business and how to best avoid pitfalls and to take advantage of opportunities continually encouraged and educated me as I began on my own road as a full time artist. I honestly do not know where I would be today with out her input and most of all her faith in me and my art.
I painted a painting for her. I specially entitled it to her name. It is called "Sara's Bay" (see below). I had no idea that just one year after giving it to her that she would be leaving us all.
For the record anyone who knew her would say that she was a grand story teller. You had to be on your toes to tell what was fact or fable but she made each a story you could not forget. That was just part of her very colourful and interesting character. And a character she certainly was.
Her body bore the scars of a very hard life lived. Sara's life, while existing in and out of wealth was one of extreme ups and downs and she knew what danger looked like. She also knew what trust looked like and who to and who not to trust.
I count it a real honour that she chose to trust me. To share her life with me, if just for two and one half years.
I am greatly saddened by her loss. I know I will carry that sadness for a long time to come. Jacksons Point will never be the same. Every time I pass her home, or stand on her dock I will shed a tear for not being able to share more time with her.
Good bye my dear friend.
Good bye Sara.
Jacksons Point, Lake Simcoe, south east point.
24"x36" oil on canvas
Do you ever wonder how they do it? I mean do you ever wonder how those twisty pines seem to hang on like that for dear life? There is no soil to protect the roots. There are constant smashing waves and blowing winds that batter and bend them from side to side, day and night, yet there they stand. When the sun comes out they sparkle in the light and reveal the wonderful layers of green and yellow hidden in the needles.
A powerful statement on life, thinks this artist. Those who can hold on through thick and thin. Through high water or blowing winds of life are the ones who truly shine and sparkle when things are good.
Georgian Wind is about just that. Strength and beauty in times of storm.
The Artists Journey
This is my blog page and it is where I get to be the opinionated man that I really am. The views are my own.
I invite your replies and comments, on my virtual welcome mat.
This sketch above became this finished painting below
The Pine Tree Painter.
How did I become known as the Pine Tree Painter? You could say I paint a lot of Pine Trees, that would be true. I paint a lot of other things too, but Pine Trees, Spruce Trees, Birch and others seem to be a continuous string in what i do. I just like the way they stand there like a custodian of the land. or a greeter to nature. So, I continue down the path with the Pine Tree Painter name on my head, It's ok.