thoughts after meeting a writing deadline …
January 6, 2009 § 11 Comments
I’m a paper junkie.
I know. That’s not funny.
But I get high in bookstores.
I swoon in Archivers.
I get dizzy in the “scrap” section at Michaels.
And then there’s ArtMart and RedLead and Dick Glicks, all art and paper stores in St. Louis.
I have to be on a tether when I’m in the City library.
Heaven forbid I wander into the NYC Public Library alone. I’d forget to eat or drink or answer my cell phone ’til I was rescued (likely from the reader’s room on the second floor.)
I even have to restrain myself at Frontenac’s Crane Stationery store, a very proper place, rather tiny and packed with all the designs and dribbles of things that women yesterday and today used and use to write upon. All the linen papers. All the raggedy edges. All the faint blues and cream whites and pale yellow papers.
And all the catalogs that go along with choosing anything custom to be ordered.
Even the Kate Spade pencil cases call to me.
I wanted to include some super fine pictures of paper here, to offer a whiff of the paper addiction, a glimpse into the life of a paper-o-phile.
But so many of you have it, too.
It’s difficult to capture the essence of a gorgeous paper on camera. It’s a tactile sensory thing but here are a few.
handmade paper from India
handmade in Nepal
Nearly giddy with the relief of having just handed in a manuscript to a magazine, I’m thinking about the piles of paper that are socked away on the shelves in my “office” upstairs. Yup, I’m going there now, ostensibly to clean.
If one of my old Somerset Studio magazines is up there, I’m “sunk.”