Thinking on paper
March 19, 2004
My mum taught me to appreciate paper early. To riffle through blank journals and pinch the sheets between my finger pads. To consider pulp and fiber. To notice how a pen flows smoothly here while it bucks and protests there. Since, I've met and felt quite intensely about so many different papers.
French toilet paper - crisp, waxy, impractically nonabsorbent and harsh. Little Italy deli sandwiches wrapped in thick white paper, once, sliced in half, then wrapped again. In Pakistan, at nine, I cut my finger in class and the teacher bound it in green crepe paper, which, as I watched in horror, turned black with my blood.
Fibrous, mud colored hand towels in bus station bathrooms. Hand made papers in the flat files of Tallas, marbleized in Brazil — $80 a sheet. Small edition books with cream-colored papers printed with scarlet initial caps and black, debossed, letter set type. The lox-colored pages of the Financial Times. A dental bib with its little necklace of steel balls and alligator clips. Heavy vellum that takes soft lead like a dream, then smears posterity. Sculpted papers at the Dieu Donné paper mill, tectonic layers thick as egg cartons. Ridged passport pages. Anachronistic rolls of brown paper in the butcher shop. Stationary, too good to use.
Silk-screened banana leaves on pre-war wallpapers. Foot thick stacks of tissue paper on a store counter, enfolding plates, glasses, lingerie, soft as carnation petals. The dehumanizing feel of a paper-covered examination table sticking to my buttocks. Gridded, oily pages of a Chinese composition book. Toothpick thin strips of heavy stock for sampling essential oils at the perfumery. Distant newspapers packed with an ebay purchase, stale with old cigarette smoke.
My grandmother at her desk, shredding old accounts payable into confetti with her aluminum ruler. The savage shock of a paper cut. Bond. Hot pressed bond. The sinful indulgence of any paper over 300 lbs. Architects' amber tracing paper ripped from rolls screwed to the drafting table, soon spidery with the lines of 6H mechanical lead and Rapidograph ink. Drawing on paper restaurant tablecloths with a roller ball pen. Collecting shirt cardboard. Foreign bank notes. Ancient craftsmen in folded newspaper hats. The heady smell of musty, rare books.
Paper balls lurking in the toes of new shoes. Kids' papier maché over withering balloons. The lottery tickets, fractioned over and again, in the Treasure of Sierra Madre. Fish and chips in a vinegary newsprint cone. The grimness of motel glasses wrapped and sanitized for my protection. The surefire excitement of florist paper, encircling roses. Ripping open a fresh 8 1/2 by 11 brick to feed the printer. The corpse of a forgotten note to self, transformed and illegible in the pocket of freshly laundered jeans.
The trembling promise and snowy expanse of a virgin journal.
Comments
i need a cigarette.
Posted by: mal | March 19, 2004 09:29 AM
ooh! Brilliant! Great bold colour & pattern!
Loved that rumination on all those wonderous types and associations of paper!
(My drawing teachers were approving when once I ran out of paper during a class and I was too engrosed in my efforts to bother asking someone to lend me some paper- I just grabbed a sheet of thin cheap brown paper-towel to finish my watercolour. It had a nice effect actually.)
Cotton rag paper is to die for...
I also recieved a gift of too-good stationary..but I haven't saved it for extra-special occassions. I use it..It makes for nice letters to friends!! This goes hand in hand with my "favourite pens"!
Posted by: Amy | March 19, 2004 09:41 AM
That would be great as a book, just as it is but each sentence printed on the appropriate paper. Take a bit of research to put it all together though.
Posted by: Richard | March 19, 2004 10:39 AM
How fortunate you were to have someone to instill in you a love and appreciation of paper (and all art, actually) when you were young. (And how blessed Jack Tea is to have you passing on the torch.)
Posted by: Karen Winters | March 19, 2004 10:56 AM
Danny, I've been reading your journal now for a couple of months, I really enjoy it. In fact I started doing a drawing a day because I was inspired.
This essay is just beautiful! It's sort of strange but it made me feel teary. Thanks so much for sharing.
Posted by: shehud | March 19, 2004 11:22 AM
Sheer poetry.
Posted by: Vicki | March 19, 2004 12:20 PM
ditto mal above ;)
something so visceral formed out of phosphors! yummmmm
and a world tour too! fantastic! my senses are truly indulged.
/me stretches out like a luxuriating cat
*purr*
Posted by: pixie | March 19, 2004 02:43 PM
ditto mal above ;)
something so visceral formed out of phosphors! yummmmm
and a world tour too! fantastic! my senses are truly indulged.
/me stretches out like a luxuriating cat
*purr*
Posted by: pixie | March 19, 2004 02:43 PM
er-
whoops.
*whistles and looks about innocently*
(well, apparently i enjoyed it twice. ;) hee)
Posted by: pixie | March 19, 2004 02:46 PM
I agree with Richard (above). What a wonderful idea. Each sentence on a different piece of paper. Marvelous! That would be quite an achievement. Richard, you are really on top of things.......
Danny, as usual, you are totally amazing. This lastest one is really thought provoking........I just adore paper. Always have...... Too bad I don't hoard my $ $ like I hoard other paper!!! :o)
Posted by: inkmonster | March 19, 2004 04:46 PM
OK so your blog accidently turned into a lesson plan..not what you had in mind I suspect.... I made copies for my (not quite gifted and talented..we call it "enrichment") 8th grade literature group to read...and asked them to write me a page full of lovelies like you did about some obvious, everyday object....I'm curious to see what they come up with...only one student was minorly offended by the mention of buttocks...silly girl....just as long as she doesn't come upon the dildo page ..yikes!..might get me fired...just kidding....I think ~Fern
Posted by: fern | March 19, 2004 04:48 PM
man oh man oh man! what a great entry to read for a paper junkie like myself. I have one friend who shares this love with me and her and I can go in to paper stores and just feel the paper.
you know what else is nice? I learned this one in a workshop with Sabrina Ward Harrison...the super thin tissue paper, slightly browned/aged over time, used to print dress patterns on...very memorable paper :)
Posted by: becky | March 19, 2004 07:07 PM
DANNY,
Your dissertation on paper was awesome !!!
I too am a lover of paper, all kinds of paper, especially exotic hand made paper. You made every kind of paper seem as though it has its own magic(of course some of us know it does), and very special charm, and purpose in life. I think that your words describing and romancing all kinds of paper , were eloquent .
I Loved It ! !
Patricia
Posted by: Patricia Piotter | March 19, 2004 09:04 PM
lovely post!
Posted by: Laurie | March 19, 2004 10:33 PM
This was so concrete, it brought tactile memories, memories of smells... wonderful.
Posted by: Nancy | March 19, 2004 10:50 PM
a gathering of drawings in word....
Posted by: Melly | March 20, 2004 05:48 PM
wow. it read like a romance novel . . . pulp novel paper is nifty too . . .
will you do one on pens?
Posted by: emily. | March 20, 2004 09:06 PM
I read you everyday because every day does matter, and your writing and drawing never fail to help me see that.
Thank you.
Posted by: ceevee | March 21, 2004 08:03 AM
I shouldn't be reading this at work anyway, but now I'm totally distracted thinking about all the different types of paper I remember over time :P It's nice to find other people that feel the same way about paper and special things.
Posted by: Mandy | March 21, 2004 07:23 PM
delicious...
Posted by: jen | March 22, 2004 06:37 PM