#55. Comfort Art - Light in Dark Times (2020 Retrospective)

A Card Full of Comfort

In difficult times - after loss, during illness, or in a period of loneliness - there is something powerful about receiving a card. A small gesture that simply says: I’m thinking of you.

I remember how hard it was to find the right card for my mother when she was seriously ill. The ones in stores were either too cheerful or too heavy - none felt like true comfort. That’s why I began designing blank cards, using my own nature photography. This way, there was room for a personal message. A personal voice. A small ritual of care.

These comfort cards were sent to people in grief, to the sick, to those in recovery or simply going through hard times. A little spark of attention, at just the right time.

Candlelight as a Gesture of Connection

Around that same time, I also started designing candle holders featuring my nature images. Lighting a candle became a ritual for me - something I did for my parents, for myself, and later for others as well.

A small light on a dark day.
A warm gesture placed beside a photo, an urn, or on a grave.
Or simply on a table - as a quiet reminder.

I would often receive messages from people who had received one from a friend, a neighbor, a colleague. That it touched them. That the little candle on the shelf felt like comfort.

Remembrance Products and Sympathy Gifts

Comfort Art slowly grew. I created photo montages paired, custom visuals for memorial services, and curated sympathy gifts for moments of loss. It was never just about “giving something nice.” It was about letting someone feel: You are not alone. These gifts found their way into hospitals, funerals, and homes where grief was quietly present. Sometimes it was a candle holder with a nature photo. Sometimes a card. Sometimes a poem. What they all had in common was their simplicity - and the space they created for connection.

Words That Brought Comfort – Poetry for Grief

Some words touched people so deeply, they kept returning to them. Like this poem, written by De Troostdichter (The Comfort Poet):

I Miss
I miss the words
to say what I feel
I miss the lines
to speak of hope and care
I miss the stories
of sunshine after rain

I share these images with you
so we may look together
so we may simply be
– The Comfort Poet

Or the line my mother had written down, which we used on her memorial card:

Always
When we lose someone we hold dear,
we are no longer where they are—
but they will always be where we are.

These words offered support. Comfort. A moment to pause. Something to hold on to.

Rituals of Remembrance

Beyond cards and candles, there are countless ways to keep memories alive. A photo on a candle holder. A printed remembrance card with a poppy. A thank-you note after the funeral with a fitting image of nature.

In Limburg, where I’m from, remembrance cards (bidprentjes) are a familiar tradition. I grew up with them. On the card for my mother-in-law is a field of red poppies - a photo I took myself, now a symbol of her gentle strength. These images live on, just like the memory.

What Remains

I no longer sell physical comfort gifts or cards. The Comfort Art webshop has closed (partly due to my move to Norway). But the soul of the project lives on - in my photography, in my writing, and in the way I now work under the name Earth Embrace.

Comfort Art was never a business plan - it was a response to something I felt deeply. A heart-driven movement. And although I no longer create the products, I carry the meaning with me in everything I do.

A Grateful Reflection

Sometimes, looking back helps us understand why something needed to happen. For me, Comfort Art was a way to process grief, to share love, and to offer others a soft place to land.

I am thankful to everyone who sent a card, lit a candle, or found a moment of comfort in my work.

Even though the form has changed, the intention remains:

To create soft places through images, light, and love.
Places where comfort may be found.

P.S. Are you looking for a nature image for a memorial card or a personal moment of remembrance? Or would you like a custom photo made just for you? Feel free to get in touch. My archive holds thousands of images, and I’d love to help you find the right one.