Sharing Your Art

A Feel Good Story

Submitted by: Kim Nunemaker Foster

One of the most memorable coincidences in my artistic life happened this weekend at Amish Acres. I will share my story:

For years when I have been asked, “where did you learn to paint?” I replied, “when I was 16, I took a watercolor class in the summer at the Elkhart Art League.” I remember as a kid learning the basics from a guy in his 30s, self-taught artist, freelance graphic designer, and illustrator named Steve Johnson. He gave us a list of supplies and specific paint colors to buy. I learned the basic washes during the first lesson. He taught me how to paint a sky with Cerulean Blue and let the water drips to form clouds. I would scrunch a paper towel up to lift up the pigment from the paper to make more clouds. I learned how to mix skin color and use Hookers Green Light for shadows on the face. I had to buy an expensive tube of Naples Yellow to mix with Rosé Madder in order to get the color of lips. We painted a dancers face in one lesson. When the portrait dried, it didn’t look good, but Steve had me outline the face with a Black pen. To this day, that drawing/painting is one of my favorites!

During the remaining weeks of my summer class, we got to choose any picture to paint from the stacks of photos taken by this artist. I remember painting a basket of apples under Steve’s watchful eye. During this painting, “I got it!” I experienced the flow of water and the timing it took before laying down the next color. The affirmation came when my Apple Harvest painting won 1st place, $100, in Elkhart’s high school art contest! Mom has this painting in her dining room still today. I also painted a fruit still-life of bananas, oranges, and limes from a farmers market picture. I just matted and framed that painting a few years ago after I found it in my old portfolio from high school.

What I took away from that watercolor class was the foundation of my painting style today. I use the exact colors in my palette I set up in class that summer. I taped Steve Johnson’s business card in my watercolor box in case I had any questions later. I would visit his booth at Amish Acres as a kid and study his farm scenes. His cow paintings always won a ribbon. I knew I wanted to continue painting with watercolor. Maybe someday I would be good enough to show my paintings at Amish Acres…

Fast forward 28 years later… This year is my 6th year showing at Amish Acres. I received my booth space and guess who has their tent right behind mine this year? That’s right: Steve Johnson! The person I learned how to paint watercolor from. At first, I was nervous. I pulled his business card from the lid of my watercolor box and put it with my stuff for Amish Acres.

On Wednesday, we set up our tents. It took me 4 hours. It took him 1 hour. Both of us looked at each other and thought “why would they place two watercolor artists back to back when there are over 300 spots at this festival?” In the art fair world, this meant competition, stolen sales, and to be judgmental during the show… But I was bound to reintroduce myself on opening day. I walked over and handed Steve his old business card. “Is this you?” I asked. He was so surprised to see an artifact from his past he laughed and laughed. I told him our connection. I thanked him for teaching me everything I know today about watercolor. I told him because of his class, I fell in love with the medium, and have been painting ever since. I shook his hand and told him, “I am a watercolor artist today because of you. I am a teacher myself, and we go about our career not knowing how we influence others in our lives. YOU are the reason I am a watercolor painter. So thank you for teaching me when I was 16.” There I was looking into the eyes of my mentor. We both had tears in our eyes but never let go of the strong grip we had as we shook hands.

I looked closely at his paintings next to him inside his tent. He came over to my tent right away. I showed Steve a print of Harvest Apples and told him it won first place. He looked around my tent and praised MY work. He pointed put pictures he liked. He smiled as I told him my life story from age 16 to now. In my tent we both saw his skies. There were the same dabs of exact colors in his bushes as in mine. I smiled. He saw his palette of colors in my paintings.

This weekend when I was asked, “where did you learn to paint?” I replied, “when I was 16, I took a watercolor class in the summer from Steve Johnson. Coincidentally, Steve’s tent is behind mine.”