The true story about Sarah Scott

Before leaving England

I was born in London. Mrs. Ridgemore, my nanny, raised me to become a nice young lady. I was fascinated of all the things she knew about, like art, the artists of London and their paintings. Mrs. Ridgemore taught me the basics of how to create my own paintings. I wanted to learn more about art, so I talked my father into letting me work in an art gallery to learn more. It took a lot of convincing but finally he agreed to let me work. I was fascinated of the art passing through the gallery and was happy when the artists themselves would come in and wanted me to sell their art... but I wanted to do my own paintings. I liked to work in charcoal and crayons. Krokii was my favorite, but oh so forbidden. I never showed the Krokii paintings to anyone at home and I signed that paintings with an alias...

One evening in January 1755 this handsome man entered. I knew from the first time I saw him, that there was something special about him. It felt for a second like my heart stopped beating when I saw him walking towards me like in slow motion. I watched every step he took and I can still remember the nice scent around him. Gentle... Very well dressed, I could tell his suit was very expensive. He looked at me and caught my eyes so I couldn't look away.

-I do not want to intrude, but would a beautiful lady like you care to join me for a cup of tea? he said. My mind yelled at me not to, but my heart made me say "yes, I'd like to...." We ended up in a nice coffeshop close to Trafalgar square. We spent several hours talking. We talked about almost everything, but mostly about art. The man called himself Joakim, and turned to be from Gothenburg in Sweden.

So far my life was a rather merry life, even though I was really unhappy. I did not know why, but I had this sentimental thing about me that made me cry for almost no reason. It could be a beautiful flower or a painting or perhaps a beautiful song. But also it could make he happy for the same reason. Many things in my life was very close to me, but at the same time so far away. Joakim and I spent several evenings talking about this, and sometime it seemed that we had this same strange feeling to have and not to have. Life is a mystery that none of us understood. These conversations seemed to create a bond between us.

In April 1755 my life took a new turn. My painful life turned to be a even more painful unlife. Joakim introduced me to some friends of his, he told me that they were vampires. This was really hard for me to understand, and Joakim did his best to make me understand. In that time Joakim and I had a wild life. Plenty of parties, many interesting persons, more vampires and so on. My process turning in to be a vampire was awful. I did these strange things and I had this ugly needs.

One of Joakim's friends was Michael O'Connery, he was an artist and I had seen some of his paintings earlier. He was painting mostly in oil and he was really good at portraits. He did mine and Joakim's portrait once. I was surprised Joakim's and Michael's mutual understanding, sometimes they could lock each other in the eye like if they had some secret communication. After a while Joakim told me that Michaels was his child, just like me. and for some reason I felt jealous. The three of us spent a lots of time together, painting, singing learning languages, and so on. Joakim tough us Swedish because he wanted us to follow him to Sweden.

During the time, Joakim seemed to be more and more restless, he was talking about his sire, about Gothenburg, and about returning back home. Back home is not the correct word for me and Michael so Michael decided to stay in London. I was getting bored about London, and therefor wouldn't mind staying at another place for a while. In 1786 Joakim finally comes to a decision and we headed of for Gothenburg.

 

This story does not end because we ended up in Gothenburg, but it is a new part of my life and it continues at the Gothenburg Chronicle page here