In search of suitable replacements, I peddled my way over to Scrap, the Scroungers' Center for Reusable Art Parts. (Courtesy of a hot tip from super-savvy Jenn.)
The acronym pretty much speaks for itself, and yet, it does little to describe the experience. Talk about another man's treasure! Forthwith, a mere fraction of what I encountered during my visit:
And like an oily Eskimo kiss from Kismet, I stumbled across the press proofs from the book I wrote last year!
(For more detail and MUCH better pictures, check this out: sfgirlbybay covered Scrap back in May.)
Last year, I never would've bothered with Scrap (or scraps), but today I was ready to fashion myself a log cabin out of empty poster tubes. It's funny how restricting access to the easy way out gives your creativity room to flourish.
It's also funny how branding becomes less and less important to me. The only reason I used to buy Moleskin notebooks is because they say "street cred" to a room full of design snobs. Well, thanks to an overstock from the makers of Intermune, the paper I scribble on will now speak more directly to my ass kicking:
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