I saw signs for a museum of miniature art in Brussels and stopped in my tracks wondering if I was having some sort of fever dream from the flu’s grip on me. I love tiny things more than is reasonable. Growing up, I started a tiny collection of mini antique books for the sole purpose that they were small and fragile. The deep appreciation feels like some sort of minimalism offshoot in my soul. After taking a photo of an ad for the museum, I tucked it away in hopes of dragging my mom there only to stumble on it a few days later right around the corner from our apartment. Without much context, I pulled us into the museum briefly explaining it was tiny art as if that on its own was obviously worthy of viewing.
It was an absolutely delightful experience with such a wide spread of different kinds of tiny art. The following photos are from my phone and I’m still kicking myself that I was too shy to wait to take a photo of the very first one with my nice camera:
Each artist had their own take and style but all required you to lean in closely and wonder how on earth they managed to accomplish what they did. What follows are some “nicer” photos, unedited and quickly thrown below:
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