My March 14 (Pi Day!) Friend(s)

It’s never a dull day in North Beach. The Local Maker Mart art gallery on Green and Columbus, with its synth-y techno vibes (as Barry would say: “techno with a personality”) was drawing in wandering souls who felt the pull of the music and community.

I happened to be one of those wandering souls, curious to learn about the people who produce. The people who create. The people who feel and are confident enough to display their manifestations for public judgement.

Inside, crystal art and psychedelic paintings dotted what used to be Citibank — its massive vault doors barely noticeable now.

Emily and I struck up conversation and she shared how her fiancé, Greg, had this idea to convert the empty building to a community of local artists and creators. Apparently Mayor London Breed loves Greg and spent Halloween there with her friends.

Emily reminded me of Matt in that she is so grateful for her state of mind… Something to reflect on each and every day.

I continued meandering up Green Street and right across from Golden Boy pizza, there was a musician playing in front of a tiny art boutique. Tibur, the proprietor, beckoned me inside and I was surrounded by canvases of art by Ann Cohen.

Ann explained to me how her art reflected the musicians in her husband’s band and how she had one piece in the negative in which the canvas tore right as she got a message that Princess Diana had died…

Tibur showed me the dimly lit downstairs which was dotted with his photography of dancers under the Golden Gate Bridge. He is converting the “members-only” space to a speakeasy.

He did offer me a glass of wine and when I politely declined he commented “You don’t look like you drink — your eyes are too clear.” Had myself quite a laugh on that one.

Tibur opened up about being in Hungarian refugee camps before the Berlin Wall fell and how he witnessed murders before his eyes.

“I entered a boy and came out a man.”

Tibur believes in a higher power because his plane ticket to America is what saved him from breaking.

He shared his tumultuous love life with me then explained why he loves photography:

“I can control the quality unlike in painting.”

I sensed that this need to control his environment and outcomes stems from his childhood experiences surviving a horrific period in history where he was stripped of his control over his own life.

As we wrapped up our conversation, Tibur became serious. He was most grateful for God and for every day he has on Earth.

“I know I look perfect but I am not and I am grateful to God for guiding me.”