Valentine c. 1941

This is Stella Mosher's "Valentine," made with who-knows-what and when, exactly. But look at the way that central image is framed by what looks like lace. The outer frame is a soft, grey wash, making the delicate floral patterns seem to float on the surface like a dream. The colours are muted, almost faded, giving the whole piece a nostalgic, antique feel. That central image, though—it's like a tiny world of its own, isn't it? A little flame burning atop a golden cup, surrounded by flowers and those tiny coloured squares that could be mosaic, pixelated visions of love. It's all so precise, so carefully rendered, like a little jewel. The overall effect is charming, fragile and a bit naive. Someone like Joseph Cornell might have been onto this kind of sensitivity to found images. In the end, it reminds us that art, like love, doesn't need to shout. It whispers.