“IT’S SO CREEPY to me,” says Karen Liebowitz, a 25-year-old artist whose paintings were recently stolen from SOIL gallery on Capitol Hill. The four paintings, each approximately 11 by 8 inches, were part of Liebowitz’s current exhibit titled “Chaos and Kiddush,” which explores Jewish mythology, iconography, and narratives. The stolen works were all studies of a larger painting titled Chaos Bound, featuring a naked woman lying on her stomach on a seder table with her hands tied with rope and her mouth gagged with a golden apple. Liebowitz explains the woman is Eris, the Roman goddess of chaos and discord.

The images of the bound and gagged Eris are beautiful and unsettling, and members of the SOIL co-op think any number of people might want to steal the work: an S&M enthusiast, a fundamentalist Jew, or even, as Liebowitz suspects, a Discordian, someone who worships Eris and believes in the Principia Discordia, a quasi-religious text purported to be the work of a time-travelling anthropologist from the 23rd century.

But whoever the thief was, he or she didn’t have to struggle; there was no sign of a break-in. The incident highlights the lack of security at SOIL. Located in the basement of 1205 Pike Street, SOIL’s setup is less than ideal: The entranceway, a metal door that opens onto a descending ramp, is shared by two other businesses, a gym and a marketing firm, as well as a residential apartment. It’s an unlikely place for an art gallery, but for the struggling artists’ co-op, it’s been a boon. It’s affordable—costs are a constant concern for the co-op, which has moved three times since its inception in 1995—and it’s large enough to house big installations. It’s also drawn more visitors than the previous location.

Many commercial galleries in Seattle are fitted with burglar alarms and 24-hour surveillance cameras. At the very least, they insure the artists’ works and have someone constantly manning the reception area. For a small artists’ co-op like SOIL, however, such amenities just aren’t within the budget, explains SOIL member Demi Raven. At present, the group’s main source of funding is its members’ dues, which are only $35 a month. But the loss of Liebowitz’s works has “opened our eyes to the situation,” says Raven. Now, SOIL has not only installed a self-locking door, but Liebowitz is taking down many of her smaller paintings and locking them up in a storage room every evening.

This wasn’t SOIL’s first case of theft. Last month, a sweatshirt was stolen from a conceptual art installation done by “Law Office,” a Chicago artists’ group. Strangely enough, the more valuable VCR and TV that were also part of the work were not taken.

Billy Howard, director of Howard House, a commercial gallery in Belltown, sympathizes with Liebowitz’s loss. “I’m absolutely appalled that someone stole something from a nonprofit space. It’s hard enough to make money in this town [selling art]. I would call [the theft] an act of vandalism. It’s bad karma.”

If you have any information about this theft, contact SOIL at 264-8061 or e-mail gallery@soilart.org.