|Printer paper, 50 cents|
I don’t generally think of myself as a hobo but once or twice a week I can be found with my head down a bin in a public place. More specifically, the plastic bag recycling bin at the supermarket and the paper bin by the photocopiers at a university library. I need the bags for lining my kitchen bin and the paper is for my children to draw on. When I came across this stack of old dot matrix printer paper, however, I got a brief break from rummaging for the latter, though I did miss turning over the children’s artwork and learning a little bit about life in an eighteenth century French fishing village.