Synchronicity is a strange thing. There are times in people’s lives when there seem to be none-at-all and other times when there are so many coincidences, you can’t help but wonder about the significance; the meaning behind the snapshots of time that practically beg to be critiqued in a gallery.
Two years ago, I returned from a vacation at a seaside resort in central California. The trip was exactly what was needed to restore a sense of calm and connection to the universe. Even though my life wasn’t where I wanted it to be, one evening I somehow “knew” things were about to change for the better.
At the time, I was single, thinking about relocating and dreaming about having a child. Being thirty-four meant the clock was ticking and I was seriously considering artificial insemination. But, that changed the night I went for a swim in the ocean under the full light of the moon. Floating on my back I stared at the contrast of a dark sky and the bright moon, and for the first time in many years, I stopped thinking; stopped trying to control my future and I was… pregnant with possibility.
You might be wondering why I’m writing to the artist about my experience.
When I returned from that vacation, and reality starting consuming hope, a friend came to my home with a gift; a painting from John Pitre. It was called, “Moonlit Dream.” When I unwrapped the present and saw what lay beneath the paper, I cried so hard my friend had to ask, “Are those happy tears or is this a hormone thing?”
I laughed through tears (which is “as they say,” the greatest emotion), placed the painting on the couch and gave him a hug. We’d been friends for many years, but it wasn’t until that moment that I realized he was the One for me. We made eye contact. He smiled and said, “Do you know how many years I’ve been waiting for you to look at me that way?”
One kiss and ten months later we welcomed a baby girl. Her name is Hope and she’s a night child; sleeping during the day, staring at the sky at night. I would have written sooner about how a single painting changed my life, but as you can see I’ve been a bit busy. Not only did I marry the man of my dreams and have a baby— who has all ten fingers and toes, but we relocated to San Diego.
Last weekend, as we unpacked our things and began settling into our new home, I unwrapped Moonlit Dream. I know it’s unhealthy to be attached to things, but I can’t help it. Every time I look at the painting, I feel the same way I did floating in the Pacific Ocean and kissing my husband for the first time. Life can be filled with magic and if I ever begin to forget that, all I need to do is pour a glass of wine and look at Moonlit Dream to restore a sense of calm and a connection to the universe.
I didn’t know how potent art could be, but to say Pitre’s work is powerful… is an understatement. His painting didn’t just move me, it altered the course of my life. Now I’m living authentically and you have no idea how good it feels. Please know I’m forever grateful for a gift that keeps on giving.
--Your greatest fan, Kate