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I am a city person.
I paint half-truths.
I paint what I know but not all I know.
There is beauty in my lies.
The frame of my canvas hides the telephone pole and the jumble of telephone lines that are so old they stop working every time it rains. It hides the wall that Walgreens built to keep the homeless from getting expired food out of their garbage dumpsters. It hides the trash that the street-sweeper has spewed all over the street during its scheduled twice weekly ritual. It hides the liquor store’s neon sign peeking over the Sherwin Williams paint store that backs up against our garden.
Within my canvas the city is silent. Gone are the sirens of police cars, fire trucks, and ambulances racing off to emergencies; real or imagined. Gone is the dueling music mélange of hip-hop and Mexican polka coming from backyard barbeque parties. Gone is the cry for help of the Lebanese cab driver getting mugged while walking home from the late-night-shift. Gone are the curses at children from impatient mothers who are only babies themselves.
My paintings in the “Le Flaneur” series feature microcosms of the often overlooked beauty and breathtaking complexity within the urban landscape. I consider myself an aesthetic translator of visual stimuli. Painting the beautiful half-truth is a meditative practice that provides me with a refuge from the chaos and discord that surrounds me. It is my hope that my paintings will also help the viewer find solace, escape reality, and find the quiet place in their own mind.
We are the city people.
We know the sights, the sounds, the smells.
I offer up a half-truth.
There is beauty in my lies.
Mollie Thonneson
I paint half-truths.
I paint what I know but not all I know.
There is beauty in my lies.
The frame of my canvas hides the telephone pole and the jumble of telephone lines that are so old they stop working every time it rains. It hides the wall that Walgreens built to keep the homeless from getting expired food out of their garbage dumpsters. It hides the trash that the street-sweeper has spewed all over the street during its scheduled twice weekly ritual. It hides the liquor store’s neon sign peeking over the Sherwin Williams paint store that backs up against our garden.
Within my canvas the city is silent. Gone are the sirens of police cars, fire trucks, and ambulances racing off to emergencies; real or imagined. Gone is the dueling music mélange of hip-hop and Mexican polka coming from backyard barbeque parties. Gone is the cry for help of the Lebanese cab driver getting mugged while walking home from the late-night-shift. Gone are the curses at children from impatient mothers who are only babies themselves.
My paintings in the “Le Flaneur” series feature microcosms of the often overlooked beauty and breathtaking complexity within the urban landscape. I consider myself an aesthetic translator of visual stimuli. Painting the beautiful half-truth is a meditative practice that provides me with a refuge from the chaos and discord that surrounds me. It is my hope that my paintings will also help the viewer find solace, escape reality, and find the quiet place in their own mind.
We are the city people.
We know the sights, the sounds, the smells.
I offer up a half-truth.
There is beauty in my lies.
Mollie Thonneson
