A Slower, More Human Kind of Store
I sent this email earlier this week to a donor — a widower whose wife was a beloved member of the community, a county librarian, and an artist. He donated boxes and boxes of her fine art supplies, many still sealed in their original packaging. After meeting in person and going through everything, I wrote him this note, which says a lot about why I started SPARE-- my new nonprofit reuse store that collects donated art, craft, and sewing supplies and keeps them in circulation:
"I just wanted to say thank you again — not just for the incredible donation of art supplies and vintage magazines, but for taking the time to talk. After all our phone calls, it was really meaningful to finally connect in person.
It was immediately clear how much thought and care your wife put into her creative life. The supplies were beautiful — so well chosen, so thoughtfully organized. I could just feel how much it all mattered to her.
Going through her things made me reflect a lot on why I’m doing this. I’ve always known that SPARE would be about remembering people and honoring creative legacies, but holding her materials made that feel so much more real. These weren’t just leftover supplies — they were part of her story.
One of SPARE’s taglines is “When technology drains, hands-on creativity replenishes,” and after our conversation, that hit even harder. We’re all overwhelmed — by screens, news, social media, everything. I can’t solve the bigger picture, but I want SPARE to offer people some kind of reset. A way to step out of all that noise and into something slower, quieter, more human. You don’t need to be “an artist” — just someone who wants to make something real.
And honestly, there’s such a need for this right now. Most of the small craft stores are gone, and the alternatives are big-box stores or Amazon. Who wants to put more money in Bezo's pockets? It’s convenient, sure, but it doesn’t feel good. SPARE is trying to be the opposite of that — local, personal, intentional.
It’s a model that can easily be replicated in other retail categories.
With how absolutely batshit everything feels fight now, I also keep thinking about how hard it is for people to afford the things that bring them peace or joy. We don’t know where our materials will come from, or how long we’ll be able to keep buying what we need. SPARE is one small way to make that easier — to keep those resources flowing and accessible."
I’ll write more soon about the mental health side of all this. Because starting SPARE was also a way for me to push back against the doomscrolling, the constant anxiety, and that low-grade loneliness I think a lot of us are carrying around these days.
This store is just one small space. But I hope it can become a place where people feel a little less alone — and a little more connected to something real.