Madison & Friends Charity Art Fundraiser has become a cornerstone of community and creativity in the Tri-Cities art scene. The show, which benefits the Cancer Center, returns this year at Layered Cake Artistry, June 27th from 4-7pm.

This incredible event makes owning original art accessible to everyone, creates a platform for local artists and makers to showcase their work, and raises vital funds to support the essential work of the Cancer Center.

I sat down with 33-year-old Madison Rosenbaum, who describes herself as “a stage IV metastatic breast cancer thriver” and facilitates this fundraiser every year. You can follow her journey at madisonhatescancer.com or on Instagram: captainmadisonx.

If you are looking for a way to get more involved — this is it! Stop by, experience the art, and support this beautiful cause!

This is your fourth year putting on this incredible event. Can you share a bit about the event’s origin story?

I think the origin story of the fundraiser starts about ten years ago at the Red Show, through DrewBoy Creative. Before that, I was making art mostly through undergrad class projects and trying the whole ‘freelance photographer’ thing, but I never really called myself an artist. Then I took a chance and put my work on a wall (thanks Davin!), and suddenly I was surrounded by people who did see me that way, and it completely changed the trajectory of my life.

Art became my gateway drug to community, but also to understanding myself. I realized creativity wasn’t confined to a canvas; it could look like storytelling, organizing people, designing experiences, fundraising, writing, creating Halloween costumes, making people laugh, or making them feel less alone. Somewhere along the way, I became a creative chameleon. The arts community completely transformed my life and gave me a place to land.

Fast forward to four years ago — I was diagnosed with stage IV breast cancer in March while rapidly approaching my 30th birthday in June, which is, objectively, a terrible party theme.

Instead of spiraling about turning 30 in the ‘normal’ way, I was suddenly just trying to make it to 30 while going through chemotherapy. Birthdays now feel fragile and miraculous and heavy all at once! Cancer has a way of stripping your life down to the present tense. You stop speaking in assumptions. You stop treating time like it’s guaranteed.

I’ve never been very good at doing anything halfway; so naturally, I decided the appropriate response was to throw a giant art fundraiser birthday party!

Supporting the Tri-Cities Cancer Center Foundation (TCCCF) felt deeply personal because I watched my mom move through cancer treatment during COVID in 2020 and 2021, and then just a year later, I found myself becoming a patient there, too. In 2022, my aunt and I went through chemotherapy alongside each other. The fundraiser became a way to merge these two worlds that shaped me so profoundly: the arts community that helped me find my voice and the cancer community that helped carry my family through some of the hardest years of our lives.

What I didn’t expect was how many people would show up to help carry it with me.

Now every year I get to stand in a room full of artists, local businesses, previvors, survivors, thrivers, grieving families, old friends, new friends, and complete strangers — all gathering because cancer has touched nearly all of us in some way. And yet, for one night, the room fills with people determined to give something back anyway. Art. Money. Time. Energy. Hope. Love. A stubborn refusal to let something so shitty have the final word. It’s joyful and heartbreaking and messy and emotional all at once. 

How has the event grown and evolved since the beginning?

What started as me turning my 30th birthday party into a fundraiser rager has somehow snowballed into this giant community art event that continues to outgrow itself every year. The first year, I honestly had no idea what to expect; but so many artists and people in my life immediately responded with, “I got you, let’s do this!” And the generosity completely blew me away. We raised around $5000 that first year. Last year, we raised over $9000 in a single night.

Every year brings more artists, more community support, and more moments of me staring at a packed venue wondering if the fire marshal is about to personally end my fundraising career.

Over $20,000 has been raised so far. What does that impact mean to you, personally?

Cancer treatment is exhausting in ways that are hard to explain unless you’ve lived it. Beyond the physical side of it, there’s also this overwhelming emotional and financial weight that suddenly crashes into your life. You’re learning an entirely new language of appointments, insurance, medications, side effects, scans, paperwork, and constant uncertainty, all while trying to remain a functioning human being.

What means the most to me is knowing that every dollar raised goes directly to supporting patients in treatment, easing the burden of things like food, gas, lodging, and medical expenses not covered by insurance. Cancer already asks so much of patients and their loved ones. Anything that helps ease the burden means people can spend a little less energy negotiating survival logistics and a little more energy negotiating with cancer itself.

Why do you feel events like this are important for the local community?

I think events like this are important because they remind people that community is not an abstract concept. It’s something living and breathing that we actively create together.

We live in a time where so many people are isolated, overwhelmed, grieving, burnt out, or quietly carrying things they don’t always talk about. Art has this incredible ability to crack people open a little bit and reconnect them to each other. It gives people permission to feel something together. To laugh together. To be vulnerable. To tell the truth. To feel less alone.

I also think there’s something powerful about gathering people in a room around a cause that almost everyone has been touched by in some way. Cancer does not exist in neat little boxes. It ripples through families, friendships, workplaces, and communities.

Real talk — local art matters because local people matter. There’s something special about watching people show up for each other in real time. It reminds me that even in really difficult seasons, people still deeply want to connect, create meaning, and care for one another. I think that’s one of the most human things we can do.

What would you say to someone who’s hesitant to share their art publicly?

I would say that almost every artist I know, no matter how talented they are, still feels nervous sharing their work publicly. I think being perceived is unfortunately one of the side effects of making art.

But sometimes, all it takes is one opportunity or one person looking at your work and saying, “Hey, this matters. You should keep going.”

One of my favorite things about this fundraiser is that it creates space for artists at every level and in every medium. We’ve had professional artists exhibiting alongside first-time artists and even a three-year-old contributor. Art should not only belong to people who feel polished or confident or established. Sometimes people just need a place to begin.

I also think the world gets infinitely more interesting when people make things and share them with each other. Your art does not have to be perfect to deserve space in the world. It just has to be honest.

What can attendees expect when they come to the event?

The fundraiser works a little differently than a traditional auction. The artwork is displayed gallery-style throughout the venue, with suggested donation prices. If someone falls in love with a piece, they visit the TCCCF table to claim it. People can donate the suggested amount, more than the suggested amount, or less. Obviously, we’re there to raise funds, but a huge part of the event is also making art accessible and getting it into people’s homes. The art stays on the walls for most of the evening, and then everyone takes their pieces home at the end of the night.

During the final part of the evening, we also hold a “find this art a home” blitz round for any remaining pieces, where attendees can donate whatever they would like for the artwork. It’s one of my favorite parts of the night because it really captures the spirit of the event: community, generosity, and making sure the art continues living with people beyond the gallery walls.

The evening will also include beer and wine available for purchase by donation, raffles, a ballet folklorico performance from Alegrías de México, and chips, salsa, and agua fresca courtesy of Casa Rosita. The event is family-friendly. And down the street at Blackthorne Neighbourhood Pub, people can also grab the Captain Madison cocktail or mocktail, with $1 from every drink donated to the TCCCF.

What role does art play in your own life?

Art is woven into almost every part of my life. It’s how I process the world, how I connect with people, how I tell stories, and how I survive difficult things. I think art has always been the lens through which I’ve tried to make sense of being human.

What’s interesting is that art stopped being confined to traditional ‘Art’ for me a long time ago. It spills into everything. Creativity became less of a hobby and more of a way of moving through the world with curiosity and intention.

I also think art has given me language for experiences that are otherwise hard to explain, especially around illness, grief, joy, identity, and survival. Sometimes art says the thing before you have the words for it. And beyond that, it’s brought some of the most meaningful people in my life into it. 

What has been the most rewarding part of organizing this event each year?

The most rewarding part always happens at the very end of the night. After the last piece of art comes off the walls, after we’re done trying to send people home with leftover horchata, after my feet ache from heels and I smell faintly like a hundred different perfumes from hugging so many people, a group of some of my favorite humans gather for one final selfie.

Every year, I have this overwhelming moment of realizing — I am still here!

Still alive. Still loved. Still surrounded by people creating beauty and generosity in the middle of something as cruel as cancer.

As a patient, I have been held by so much compassion from the nurses, doctors, and staff at the Tri-Cities Cancer Center. Being able to turn even a small piece of that care back into the community feels like survival transformed into something useful and shared.

How can community members who aren’t artists still get involved or support the cause?

Come experience the art. Bring a friend. Share the event with people in your life. Donate if you’re able. Claim a piece that makes you feel something. Grab the Captain Madison cocktail or mocktail at Blackthorne Neighbourhood Pub. Tell artists their work mattered to you. 

This art event / fundraiser is an entry point for everyone. You don’t have to be ‘an art person’ to connect with creativity, generosity, or community care. You just have to show up.

Where do you see this fundraiser going in the next few years?

I stopped pretending I know where this fundraiser is headed a while ago. It has already evolved far beyond anything I imagined when we held the first one in 2022. Is this the secret to my success? A complete lack of long-term planning? Maybe.

Next year marks two significant milestones: five years of living with cancer (knock on wood!) and the fifth year of hosting Madison & Friends. I’m a sucker for an anniversary, so although I cannot speak to future years, I can nearly guarantee next year will be magical! 

What is your biggest hope for this year’s event?

Last year we had 101 pieces of art in the show and only four didn’t find homes, so naturally my goal this year is total domination. I would love for this to be the year we finally hit $10,000 and completely sell out the show. But more than anything, I cannot wait to see Layered Cake packed wall-to-wall with art, community, and people enthusiastically yelling “I need this!” and immediately making a beeline for the donation table.

Madison Rosenbaum is a 33-year-old stage IV metastatic breast cancer thriver. You can follow her journey at madisonhatescancer.com or on Instagram: captainmadisonx