On a day when everything was going right, I almost passed a street artist without a second glance. Blame Cedar Point for giving me the impression that all street artists are purveyors of bad celebrity portraits or want to depict you with a big head rollerblading while listening to headphones.
I’m glad I fought my bad inclination because these were wonderful. Despite the impulse to be on my way I kept half turning and then being drawn back to look at the prints and then pretty soon I’m leafing through his binder.
I made my apologies for an empty wallet and promised to return again. I got no more than ten feet when the cosmos sent a clear sign by conjuring up a Bank of America ATM surrounded by an aureole of heavenly light.
I picked up one of his prints of box art work: a profile in spidery intricate lines. And he’s a great guy! He discussed his fascination with the strange street cleaning machines that inspired one of his works. You can check out Amos Goldbaum’s stuff here and on Market St., between 3rd and 4th on Thursdays and Fridays in San Francisco.