Beneath a flower
Flowers are best appreciated outside, in full sunshine. Their vibrant colours have to work the streets, so to speak. That is where their full sexuality blooms. Flowers are the tartlets that advertise the Madam's boudoir. The customers, birds and bees alike, are hood-winked by their finery and perfume. What the birds and the bees never see, is what lies beneath: the skeletons, and somewhere inside all this, I do believe the spirit of the true flower. The orginal flower, in Plato's terms. The Origin of Ideas. That is why I think Steven Meyers's x-ray flower art is pure poetry. These are the only pictures of flowers that I want on my walls. Black and White. Stripped naked. "A rare and unusual look into the complex beautiful structures of flowers and leaves. Mixed with a fine sense of design, he has given us a view of natures inner workings that unfolds into an intense beauty that is hidden from the naked eye" Denver Museum of Contemporar