If you leave a painting by the side of a building in San Francisco, there’s a good chance it’ll be picked up by a blogger.
After seeing The Thermals, I walked from Bottom of the Hill to De Haro to catch the 19 back home. Those few blocks take me past the bar Parkside. It was closed, no one was around, but on the sidewalk, set against its red wall, was an oil painting on canvas board of a still life. Sitting next to it were some empty bottles of cleaning fluid.
I was feeling a little buzzed after two beers, a great show, and jetlag, so what I saw didn’t really register until a few paces later. I stopped and looked back. And then walked back. Had it been set out with the trash? On purpose? Even in the yellowish tinge of the streetlights, the colors really caught my attention. At first I thought it must be just a print. I picked it up and looked closer. No, those really were brushstrokes. It was signed LEIBERT.
I looked around. No one was around. 17th Street at night is dead. I looked at the painting again and tried to decide through my hazy mind whether the composition was worth bringing all the way home.
Stephanie put it in the kitchen. It looks really nice there.
I just thought to google for “leibert painting san francisco” and found: Meighan Leibert. It looks like I have an email to send.