Today the discussion came about of "do I seriously need all the paper in the world?"
Although somewhat said in jest, I know this was a phenomena that some may not understand
Well, that's a very good and personal question. Considering that my DH (dear husband) is a music aficionado, albeit much neater and single-focused than me - for a split second I considered turning the tables, yet I paused to deeply ponder this from an interrogate standpoint and render my defenses to the sidelines at least for now...
I don't see a scrap sheet of decorative fish motif paper as something for refuse, I see it as the perfect thing to cover a box that now sits fabulously on our bookcases and houses my recipe cards.
Or to line envelopes with Italian made and painted papers to bring just the perfect touch of extra decadence to the hand written note.
In my quest to get rid of various forms of paper, I ended up going to a consignment shop and purchasing the perfect bins to house them instead.
Since childhood I would...
- Flip out if someone went outside the lines in my coloring books & then rip the page out (one of my sisters will attest to this)
- See magazines as brilliant bits of information that was a re-purposeful product in the making
- Covet paper dolls to play with and once tattered and altered paste onto fabric for a makeshift apron
I still always have at least one special sheet of paper that I simply cannot bring myself to cut but will use to line a shelf or hang in lieu of a painting in my studio.
Today it's actually a sheet of Japanese paper en route to something special for mom, a stitched sheet with butterflies, and a letterpress image for constant inspiration of where I want to go next with my paper explorations.
I'm continually in awe of that very thing that can elude us at times - you know, the simple things.
I've accepted the fact that my accumulation of paper is simply who I am. The joy is how something so simple can be used in the most pragmatic ways.
Even the Sunday Paper