A Storm of Roses: 
James Honzik









This is, in at least temporary totality, my new series, combining brutal and intense sunrise light, and roses in afternoon softness. Wisconsin and Oregon. The creation is as much aleatoric as intentional. Visual metaphor. Poetry of tone. The first two are dark. I layered in skeleton trees. I was working out the form. And I am not even sure about them anymore, but a tattooed woman dressed in black leather and chains told me they were her favorites. The third is a beautiful piece of chance. Perhaps the best one, perhaps an abstraction of thought as tone. The fourth brings home pareidolia; lips, hips, dark hair, dark eyes. It remind me of a woman I used to know. The fifth, could embody a profile, a mouth, curved cubism. The sixth could portray the birth of a strange new creature. The seventh has a lost luminous quality I can’t ignore. The eighth is made of strange faded rained upon petals, double stormed beauty in decay. All of the prints are absolute.