Rose Sanderson began painting on vintage postcards in the early days of the pandemic, treating the small, familiar format as a refuge from difficult news. She describes the project as a mix of escapism, invention and childhood memory, shaped by growing up in a seaside town in the 1980s and 1990s. The postcards themselves come from thrift shops, antique markets and online sellers, adding to a collection started by her grandparents, whose aged colours she values for their warmth.

The humour comes from scale. An enormous crab looms over donkeys on a beach, a tiger stretches out beside unsuspecting holidaymakers, and a sea serpent rises from the water as if it belonged there all along. A zigzag crack splits the ground around a fairground, worms emerge from green hills, and a wind-up key protrudes from a car. The scenes borrow the mood of early creature films, but Sanderson keeps them playful rather than frightening, so that the strangeness feels inviting instead of threatening.

What holds the series together is the tension between the postcard's promise and the picture's disruption. A holiday greeting is supposed to reassure the recipient that everything is fine, yet here the landscape itself misbehaves: animals grow enormous, objects acquire mechanisms, and everyday leisure turns quietly absurd. The joke lands because the painting style stays gentle, letting viewers enjoy the disruption before they notice how thoroughly the scene has been rearranged.

The series has now reached 50 paintings and will be shown at Aberystwyth Arts Centre from 11 November to 23 December, accompanied by a limited-edition book reproducing all of the works. For an artist who started the project as a personal comfort, the exhibition turns a private game with old paper into a public invitation to look twice at a familiar view.