Kim Swanson » Blog

My mother and aunt painted plein air in the 1950's and 60's before it was popular, back when they just called it "painting outside". When I was about 4, I remember we went to the sprawling historic Elmwood Park in Omaha, where my older brothers and I painted found rocks next to a lovely creek with opalescent water, while our mother captured the scene of a stone stairway. That may be the last time my mother painted, as she was too busy taking care of our family.  I can appreciate that as I too had set aside my own art interests for family and career. 

During the pandemic, after some reflection, I decided it was time to learn oil painting, now or never.  So in December of 2021, I decided to jump in and commit to daily painting.  Since then, my routine is when the birds start to sing, I wake, make a cappuccino and head down to my basement studio to paint for an hour or more. I don't naturally wake up with the birds, but it is great to start the workday with a sense of accomplishment from my morning studio time.

Last April, I wanted to share my newfound love of painting with my mother.  So when I was visiting, I brought gouache paints, brushes and paper for her birthday and we sat in her kitchen and painted using the beautiful imagery of a Plein Air magazine as inspiration photos. Mother hadn't painted in 50 years, but she did quite well.   It was such a treat to paint together, and my brother took lots of photos of our session.  I wish I had started painting earlier in my adult life so mother and I could have more of these shared painting memories.

The next day, mother started pulling out her old stash of charcoal sketches, linoleum block prints, and oil paintings. She had hidden them away 50 years ago and I was the first person she showed.  She was unveiling cautiously and watching my response.  Her oil studies were large, with spot-on color, good use of dappled light and wonderful loose brushstrokes.  She was painting the shapes and not the objects.  She even pulled out a box of 50-year-old turps and oil paints that had been securely packed away, hoping to have time to paint again, "someday".   

A few months later, I was my way from the airport to see mother again and on the way, I passed Elmwood Park.  The parking lot was closed for a family fun day, but a nice security guard heard my story (that I just needed to snap a few photos as a reminder of 50 years ago), and said, "you gotta' to do that for your mother" and kindly let me in for a quick peek. Luckily, I found the correct part of the park and took some photos. 

I would love to help my mother have another day of plein air painting at that same spot, but as she is no longer steady enough to manage the sweeping stone steps, it will be my quest to carry the torch and capture the dappled light of the opalescent creek.  If I get too hot, I might just jump in.

Left: Plein Air study by Helen Elizabeth Wittrock Dowd abt. 1968.

Middle and Right: Photos from 2024