Lucie Rosická's "Laundromat: Gentle Care Program" at Trafo Gallery, Prague

The first time I saw Lucie Rosická's work, I stood way too close to it. This was a couple of years ago at her debut solo show, in the tiny rooms of Platforma 15. I was trying to understand what I was looking at. From across the room it read as painting: a body, a face, strong white and red tones. Up close, it dissolved into something else: thread. That’s because Lucie doesn't paint her pictures. She sews them. It's a technique she traces back to her grandmother's hands, routed through Prague's Academy of Fine Arts and residencies in Turin and New York, and now made wholly her own. She’s taken one of the most traditionally "feminine" of crafts, lifted it onto the wall and asked it to carry the weight of a whole life. And somehow it works. It definitely pulled me in.

Turns out, I wasn't the only one. In the time since, she's been named to Forbes's 30 Under 30 and shortlisted by ELLE Decoration. The Prague art world has caught up to what was obvious in that room and her works is now selling like hotcakes.

When I heard she had another solo show at the Trafo Gallery, I called up a friend who was equally mesmerized that winter Saturday at Platforma15, and we headed out to Holešovice to Hall 14, where the gallery keeps its white space.

Laundromat: Gentle Care Program (curated by Thom Oosterhof, and on until mid-June) takes the idea of a self-service launderette and makes it a stand-in for the early years of motherhood. Care on autopilot. Time in short supply and therefore strictly planned out. Repetition where there used to be self-expression. Rosická is clearly working through this major milestone in her life, figuring out how to exist in her new reality. Rediscovering herself, dealing with fatigue, doubt, one would even say postpartum depression. But, as with her first show, she does it in a way that pulls you in.

What's changed since the first show is the face. In the earlier work, there was more focus on the body. In this new show, you can see her characters’ gaze. They look straight out at you, direct and unwavering. But they - as happens in life - are also quite imperfect. Sometimes the stitches break, other times the fabric has been shredded. And there’s lots more variety, too. Close-up portraits, larger than life selfies, motherhood scenes. And, sprinkled in, small, more intimate pieces, too. Many of which I loved.

There are sculptures, too. These, I will admit, are somewhat odd-looking, like shedding one’s skin or discarding a dress. And yes, babies, too. Babies everywhere, it seems. I have to say, I prefer the human version :)

That said, what I loved the most are the pink large scale pieces and the circles. Something about them just feels modern, feminine, yet strong and in a way minimal. And, of course, they are the perfect fit for the title. No corners to hide in. A porthole. A mirror. A washing-machine door you can't stop staring into.

I had every intention of bringing one home. I'd chosen it (I won't say which) and discovered, with the particular sting every collector knows, that someone beat me to it. Someone faster, with better instincts about how quickly these things move. So I did what one does: I let it go, and bought another. I am already picturing where it will live once the show ends.

If you're in Prague before 14 June, go. Stand too close. Then step back. I guarantee you will love it.