Yesterday, I shared the story of a mysterious painting I found outside the main branch of the New York Public Library.

My discovery of the canvas combined with what I’d learned while researching the artist online raised a few additional mysteries—

Were all of the paintings the artist had posted on his flickr page marked “street” left out in public to be adopted?

How often had the artist done this, and how often had he been contacted by the new owners of his work?

And the question that intrigued me the most: Had the painting I picked up actually been on the street since 8/28, as this flickr image would seem to indicate?

Now that I’ve uncovered some of the answers, I find this painting’s journey into my possession even more fascinating.

According to Cabral, all of the paintings shown as part of the “street’ subset on his flickr page had indeed been left out in various public places in the hope that they’d be adopted. He’s done this about 30 times, and he tells me that he has only been contacted four times by the new owners of the paintings, once by a runner who discovered a canvas while navigating Central Park. It surprises me that so few new owners reached out, as I did, to express gratitude.

As it turns out, the reason I now have “Love Block” is because one owner expressed that gratitude by passing it on!

The difference in dates between when Kael Cabral set “Love Block” free and when I found it is due to the fact that he hadn’t put it on the street a month ago at the New York Public Library—he’d left it a month ago at Penn Station!

It had been found then by Bryan Galatis, who took photo you see above on Wednesday when he chose to set it free once more for me to find. Galatis had found the painting as I did, was unsure whether it had been left deliberately but suspected that it had been, again as I did, and also contacted the artist to offer to return it. He was also told, as I was, that he could keep the painting. But Galatis thought he’d share in Cabral’s game, and put out the painting at a different location weeks later where I came across it.

If after reading all this you’d like to own a painting by Kael Cabral, you have two choices. You can wander the streets of Manhattan until you come across one serendipitously. Or if you have doubts that you could ever be that lucky, you can visit his site and buy one.

Will I be taking part in Kael Cabral’s artistic experiment, and pass on the love, as Bryan Galatis did? Maybe someday, but not just yet. For now, I’m just enjoying “Love Block” too much.

Here you can see it in its new, perhaps temporary home, on the top shelf of a glass bookcase in my office. It keeps company with My Little Cthulhu, a key bent by Uri Geller, a 125-million-year-old trilobite fossil, a nail bent by Slim “The Hammer Man” Farman, disciple of the famed strongman the Mighty Atom, a gargoyle given to me by my wife, a baseball I caught at Camden Yards which I then had signed the same night by Cal Ripken, Jr., a Jesse Jackson for President in ’84 button, a musical Ultraman, and … well, I’m sure I don’t have to tell you who that tall, bald-headed guy with the book is.

Seeing this, I hope that Kael Cabral will feel that “Love Block” has, for a little while at least, found a good home.