Kim Stadin has a fascinating dual identity: an award-winning Dateline producer whose other world is filled with canvases, paint and an unmistakable eye for color. What began as a personal pursuit has grown into an entirely separate career alongside television. It’s a combination that may seem unlikely, but for Kim, the two sides of her life have become surprisingly complementary. And like so many women in midlife, she’s figuring out how to balance ambition, family and her own interests without expecting to get it right all the time. We caught up with Kim to talk about the experiences that shaped this unexpected path and what she’s discovered along the way.
You’ve spent more than two decades immersed in some of the darkest stories imaginable as a producer for Dateline. At what point did you realize you needed something brighter in your own life, and how did painting become that outlet?
I started painting during a very difficult time in my personal life. I was deeply unhappy in my marriage, I had two little girls, and I knew I needed to leave. I’m still not sure whether painting just happened or whether I was instinctively reaching for something that felt different from the stories I was surrounded by every day.
My work at Dateline is incredibly meaningful to me, but it also means spending a lot of time with grief and loss, and with people at the worst moments of their lives. Painting gave me a place to create color, energy and optimism. I painted after the girls went to sleep, sometimes in the middle of the night. For a while, it took my mind off the anxiety and the questions that came with a long divorce: How would I manage financially? Would my kids be okay?
That period is a blur in some ways, which makes me sad. It was a very low point. But something colorful and meaningful came out of it: my art career. And my girls and I have built a life I’m proud of.
Your artwork is known for its bold, joyful color, but your painting process involves letting gravity take over. For women who feel like they have to control everything, what has surrendering to the process taught you?
I choose the colors and guide where I pour the paint, but gravity has a say in what happens next. I can’t control every drip or every line. Usually, when I try too hard to control them, I make the painting worse.
I’m only recently learning to carry that lesson into the rest of my life. I can make plans, work hard and try to steer things in a certain direction. But some things will unfold differently than I expect, and sometimes the unexpected result is the more interesting one.
Many women reach midlife wondering if it’s too late to pursue a creative passion or start a second act. What would you say to someone who’s been quietly putting their dream on hold?
I’d say you don’t have to think of it as a “second act” that replaces everything you’ve done before. You don’t necessarily have to quit your job or reinvent your entire life to begin.
I started painting while I had a career, children and a very full life. At first, I did it because I loved creating. Then one painting sold, and another sold, and slowly it grew into something much bigger. That was an amazing feeling.
You’re allowed to start something simply because you’re curious about it. You don’t have to know where it will lead. There’s something empowering about being excited by a new part of your life.
Your paintings feel optimistic without being overly polished or perfect. Do you think women become more comfortable embracing imperfection—and even finding beauty in it—as they get older?
I hope so, though I’m still working on it! I’m a perfectionist, and I can be hard on myself about my work, my art and even how I look. When I was younger, I thought there was a “right” way for your career, family, home and life to look.
As I’ve gotten older, what matters to me has changed. I’m more drawn to things that feel interesting, authentic and alive, even if they aren’t perfect. In my paintings, the drip that goes slightly off course or the color combination I didn’t plan is often the part I end up loving most.
After spending your workday covering tragedy, does creating art actually change how you see the world? Have you found yourself noticing beauty in places you might have overlooked years ago?
Definitely. Painting has made me much more aware of color. I notice it in a sunset, in the water when I travel, in a hotel lobby or someone’s dress—even in a stack of paint swatches at the hardware store.
I think Dateline has shaped that awareness too. After years of hearing how quickly a life can change, I don’t take ordinary moments quite as much for granted.
Color clearly plays a starring role in your work. Is there one color you find yourself returning to when life feels especially stressful or uncertain, and why does it resonate with you?
Blue. Always blue.
It can take me to completely different places. Deep navy feels grounding and sophisticated. Bright ocean blue makes me think of travel, water and being far away from whatever is stressing me out.
I love using all kinds of color, but I return to blue because it can calm me down and lift my mood at the same time.
You’ve built an art business while maintaining a demanding television career. What have you learned about making space for your own creativity when life already feels completely full?
I’ve learned that I’m probably never going to magically find extra time. If something matters to me, I have to make room for it. I’ll be honest, though: it’s hard, and sometimes I wonder how I’ve managed it.
I don’t paint every day. I can go weeks without painting when work and family take over, then have a stretch where I’m completely absorbed in an idea. I no longer think creativity only counts if you do it constantly.
The guilt is harder to shake. I feel it when I’m working too much, when I’m painting instead of being with my kids, when I miss a sporting event, when I haven’t exercised or walked the dogs enough, or when I feel I haven’t spent enough time with my mom. I think a lot of women will recognize that feeling.
I’m also realizing that painting, especially once it became a business, hasn’t always been time just for me. At first it helped me survive a difficult period. Later it became a creative outlet and a way to earn extra income. I’m proud of that, but I’m learning I need some time that doesn’t have to produce anything at all.
Our audience is women navigating careers, family, aging parents, menopause, and all the beautiful chaos of midlife. What’s one thing you’ve learned about protecting your own joy that you wish every woman knew?
You don’t have to justify everything you do by how useful or productive it is. That’s something I’m still trying to learn myself.
Women spend so much of their lives taking care of people, solving problems and anticipating what everyone else needs. Lately, I’ve felt a real need to have a little time that’s simply mine. I got back into yoga this past month, and I feel better for it. Keeping it up will be the challenge!
Painting has brought me a lot of joy, even though it’s also become work. I think we all need something we can enjoy without asking what it accomplishes—whether that’s yoga, gardening, tennis, reading or dancing. Joy doesn’t have to earn its place in your life.
Feeling inspired to start something of your own? Meet Jenni Benerofe, who turned her love of cooking into a second-act career and thriving food business.
