Embroidery c. 1936

This embroidery, by Eugene Croe, feels like a slow, deliberate dance with thread, each stitch a step in a carefully choreographed process. The colors are muted, almost faded, giving it a dreamlike quality, as if it's been pulled from a forgotten memory. Look closely at the vase; it's not just a container for flowers, but a world of texture. Each stitch, each knot, builds up a surface that begs to be touched. The way the light catches those tiny threads, it's almost sculptural, transforming a simple craft into something alive. And the flowers, oh, they're bursting with a quiet energy, a subtle riot of color that feels both delicate and robust. I can't help but think of Hilma af Klint, another artist who embraced the slow, deliberate process of creation. Like Klint, Croe seems to be channeling something beyond the visible world, inviting us to pause, reflect, and connect with the hidden beauty of everyday life. It's a reminder that art isn't always about answers, but about asking the right questions, and that ambiguity is a gift, a space for our own interpretations to bloom.