About Sara

Let my paintings breathe remembrance for you who long to feel refreshed! A deep appreciation for nature motivates me to capture its radiance. I believe we all are interdependent with the calm, cleansing, and sparking spirit of life which strengthens us.

Sara L Tremblay

Nature sends no creature, no man into the world without adding a small excess of his proper quality.

Ralph Waldo Emerson


At 9 years old, Sara accompanied her mother to a college oil painting class. With a watchful eye, Sara studied the sights and sounds of working artists. Later that semester, she joined the artists again, but this time she sat on her mother’s lap in an overfilled bus journeying to see works by the great masters. The artistic seed had been planted.

Throughout her childhood, everything circled back to drawing and painting. As an example, her father brought home scrapped blank paper rolls from the printing press where he worked. Sara designed them into story scrolls using simple materials, #2 LEAD PENCILS and CRAYOLA MARKERS proving that, usually, if there is a will, there is a way.

During summer days, in a quaint cottage by a lake shore in Maine, she took art lessons. Piles of paintings were propped against walls and stacked on tables. They hung high. They hung low. The scent from hot wood of that skeletal porch studio and  those uncapped tubes of fresh paint laid out on a table can be  likened to fragrant roses.

In Wells, Maine, at York County Community College Sara continued formal fine art studies under the instruction of Jill Poyourow,  professor from California Institute of the Arts. Also there, she was lucky enough to meet friend and mentor, professional artist Heather Lewis, graduate of Philadelphia School of Art. Lewis is the daughter of professional artist parents, Dorothy and well known Jack Lewis of Delaware. Jack was friends with NC Wyeth. This lineal wealth of knowledge continues to be passed on to Sara.



Most days were spent outside in the Connecticut woods. During those days of exploration such as target shooting without supervision, Sara developed a deep appreciation for nature. She climbed trees and caressed the soft ridges of  bark with her cheeks. She pressed her toes into cool damp moss beds. She caught crayfish in a rusty culvert under the road. In Keegan’s pond, she sought water moccasins. She strained fish eggs between her fingers. Sara killed many minnows after feeding them canned corn from a neighbor’s cupboard, but saw new life when a cow named, Bossy, gave birth to Chuck in the basement. On sunny days, Sara would pause her play to lie in the grass. There, she glimpsed gliders as they detached from their lead planes. After those hypnotic moments, she briefly mourned their disappearance over the fluffy green ridge of trees. Her outside world was a private peaceful place until the day a pack of wild dogs killed a neighbor’s pony. After that, Sara parked herself near the steps to the kitchen door.


At age 11, her family moved to the Maine woods. She was shocked by the isolation during that first long hot summer. Regularly, she saw moose spying on her from between the trees. One morning 2 domestic cats emerged from the forest. Over time, while the cats nursed their litters in the shed, Sara lugged 5 gallon buckets of sparkling mica from an abandoned silver mine over rough terrain to the basement. Upstairs, she danced to Quiet Riot and learned the moon walk. One could say they were distractions from her artistic endeavors, but she will tell you these experiences have molded her creative vision.

Many memories of those teen years have been intentionally entombed in the dark hole of her past, but much of high school on the coast is still vivid. Every morning, getting on that bus was like climbing out of a coal mine into the brilliant sun. She took in deep cleansing breaths of salty air. Colorful license plates and flashing brake lights were like fine jewelry. Those starry eyed days always ended with Sara under the canopy of the thick Maine woods. There, in her room, she spent many hours drawing sacred portraits. Certain, she will admit, it was to amend her opposing disposition ;).



For as long as she can remember, Sara dreamed of getting married and having children. Her plan was to raise children and, then in her 40s begin her career. It all came to light the day she caught the scent of fresh sawdust wafting from a tall, dark, handsome man in a flannel shirt.  Now, they have been married over 25 years. During that time, Sara painted scenes on canvases, interior walls, and cabinet panels. That burning desire to paint her life away grew more intense until she burst out of her shell. Now, Sara, a professional artist, captures nearly 50 years of natural history. It’s in her nature.

My 5 children and me. Acadia National Park, Maine. 2006