Friday, I carefully wrapped up one of my most personal paintings, tucked it securely into its protective sleeve, and shipped it across the ocean to the Netherlands.
My piece, “Safe Harbor,” is now on its way to be included in the Postcard Art Exhibit Netherlands 2026, a global exhibition benefiting people affected by Alzheimer’s. Knowing that this small but deeply meaningful painting will hang alongside works by artists from around the world feels incredibly special. Even more meaningful is the cause it supports.
Because for me, this isn’t just an exhibit.
It’s personal.
The Story Behind Safe Harbor
At first glance, Safe Harbor is a peaceful coastal scene—sailboats resting on quiet water, a horizon softened by atmosphere, thick palette-knife textures creating movement and light across the surface. The water shifts from cool turquoise to deeper blue, while small red boats anchor the composition like steady heartbeats.
But this painting is about more than boats.
It’s about refuge.
It’s about finding steadiness when the waters of life feel uncertain.
The sailboats are moored, not adrift. The horizon is steady. The harbor holds them safely, even when the tide moves beneath them. That image has become deeply symbolic for me.
Why This Exhibit Matters So Much
The Postcard Art Exhibit supports individuals and families affected by Alzheimer’s disease. Artists from around the world contribute small works of art—each postcard-sized piece becoming both an offering and a voice.
When I saw the call for artists, I knew I needed to participate.
My husband is in the early stages of Alzheimer’s.
He is also living with Primary Progressive MS.
Those words are heavy. They reshape everyday life in ways that are hard to explain. We are navigating memory shifts, subtle changes, and the emotional terrain that comes with progressive illness. There are moments of strength, moments of grace, and moments of grief. There are moments of clarity and moments of confusion…for both of us.
Creating Safe Harbor became my way of holding space for all of that.
Art has always been where I process what I can’t always say out loud. The thick texture in this piece—the layered paint, the scraped edges, the blending of sky and sea—mirrors how layered this journey feels. There is beauty and weight in the same frame.
A Painting That Carries Hope
Shipping this painting to the Netherlands felt symbolic in itself. I wrapped it with care, knowing it carries not just pigment and canvas, but love, resilience, and hope.
Hope that research continues.
Hope that families feel supported.
Hope that art can remind us we are not alone.
There is something powerful about artists across continents contributing to one shared cause. Alzheimer’s does not recognize borders. Neither does compassion.
Living in the In-Between
Early-stage Alzheimer’s is an in-between space. So is primary progressive MS. We are learning to live in the present tense more intentionally. We celebrate the good days. We adjust to the harder ones. We anchor where we can.
That is what a harbor does.
It doesn’t stop the ocean from moving.
It doesn’t prevent storms.
But it offers shelter.
It provides a place to rest.
That’s what I hope this painting communicates to anyone who sees it—that even in the midst of change, there can be stillness. Even in uncertainty, there can be beauty. Even in loss, there can be love.
Sending It Forward
As Safe Harbor makes its journey to the Netherlands, I imagine it hanging on a gallery wall, surrounded by hundreds of other small works, each born of countless personal stories.
Each one is likely carrying something tender.
Each one is an act of giving.
This piece is my contribution—not just as an artist, but as a wife, a partner, and a witness to this unfolding chapter of our lives.
Huge thanks to artist David Sandhum for his support and encouragement to participate in this most worthy cause.
Art cannot cure Alzheimer’s.
But it can comfort.
It can connect.
It can create community.
And sometimes, that is a harbor in itself.
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