Austin Creative Reuse

Austin Creative Reuse

For many years, between Bouldin Creek and Barton Creek, the confluence entering Town Lake (Colorado River through downtown Austin), there was a huge cypress tree, like the roots on that giant, gnarled and knotted, exposed at low tide.

Me? I’m mired in my upbringing and training, while arguably well-seasoned by too many seasons in old Austin, still, there is that thin veneer of bad practices. Just being honest; I am a product of white male privilege. May not agree, but must acknowledge those roots.

Part of my familial lineage anchors in old East Austin, like, just on the other side of the old airport, and those roots run deep. Memories, faded hopes and desires, the incipient works of this career, all folded into a mix. Half-baked?

Austin Creative Reuse

In my “day job,” a career cemented into place by those years along the shores of the river? There’s a certain ineffable element I liked.

I found it again at Austin Creative Reuse.

What the place does, they recycle old crafts material, creative materials, and blank canvases. Or just about anything that falls into the “creative” category.

It’s a tremendous resource for antique paper, disparate craft elements, and outdated tools. Snippets of cloths, fragments and remnants of patterns, threads and bobbins, buttons, and more.

So much more.

I browsed for half an hour, spent maybe two dollars, and successfully didn’t buy back any donated materials. But it was the people, the volunteers especially, but the patrons, too. That essence of the cooperative, out-of-the-box thinking, the creative impulse as a cogent theme.

“What are you looking for?”

Inspiration. It’s everywhere.

Inside an almost blank diary, one page had a message scrawled, “Her friend got bullied on the first day of school. They plot revenge.”

Inspiration, indeed.

Austin Creative Reuse

Donate — reuse — recycle.

A special nod to the tireless staff who work miracles everyday.

Help support the arts in Austin.

And on to San Antonio? Spare Parts.

About the author: Born and raised in a small town in East Texas, Kramer Wetzel spent years honing his craft in a trailer park in South Austin. He hates writing about himself in third person. More at KramerWetzel.com.

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