Yesterday I rediscovered my love of handmade paper; of a craft I enjoyed so many years ago.
I was rummaging around in the basement, looking for Christmas wrapping, when I wandered over to a container of “stuff” that was destined for a second hand shop, or a school, or something of the sort. Peering inside, I pulled out stickers, scrapbook paper, old envelopes, and ribbons … all those things that no longer hold my interest. My days of scrapbooking with glue and scissors have long been over.
Just as I was about to close the lid on that can of worms, I caught sight of something that stopped me in my tracks. I held my breath for a moment. Look at that … look at that paper … as I gently pulled it out, I was struck by the nubby textures and the soft colours. I was struck by how each sheet fit so well against the next, and I was struck by the beauty of it.
Memories flooded back … hours and hours of bliss spent creating these one-of-a-kind treasures … ten years ago …
I would soak magazines, newsprint, and light cardboard. I would save the wrapping that grocery stores used to protect flowers after they were purchased … you know — the pretty coloured triangles that were taped shut at the top to keep the frost out. Dried flowers, and leaves, and even seeds, would be thrown into the thick sludgy mix in the kitchen sink. Then came the straining and pressing of each individual sheet against the screens, until it was the perfect thickness and size. After a day or two spent drying on towels they were carefully stacked and tucked away until I needed some for a card or layout I was making.
I used to liken the process to making cookies. It was very similar really – measuring ingredients, mixing, forming, baking …
I didn’t get many presents wrapped that afternoon. I knew I needed a “be still” moment. I needed to stop and honour these creations that came from my heart.
It made me a bit melancholy … it was a lifetime ago that I did all this, and it seems like I have so many different “lifetimes” and all passing so quickly … just gone … and you can’t hold on to them no matter what you do … but it was a blessing simply to recall that time, to hold a tangible piece of it in my hands, and then to preserve it in a photograph.
I’m sharing this today at Friday Finds.