I’ve been watching videos about cutting up books. I love cutting paper, my own writing included.

I love making things like this paper city in a box and other layered paper concoctions. But then…what do I do with them? Well, that’s a problem for another day. In the meantime, what is it about paper that people (some people anyway) love? Why do we love putting ink on a crisp white page? (Though sometimes we regret it…) While I certainly do NOT love the smell of a paper mill (Thanks, Terre Haute!), paper in a new book is a delight. And a crinkle corner can make some gasp in despair.

I can’t begin to tell you how much paper I have stashed away in my workspace. Lots of it is usable. It’s got designs I don’t like or is a scrap too small to do much with. But some paper is so lovely, I don’t use it because I can’t imagine anything worthy of its dreamy surface. The blank page! So much promise!

Some people, of course, believe cutting up a book is a travesty. Right? There are people who dogear pages and people who never would. People who highlight or scribble in the margins and people who never would. People who throw books into fires and people WHO NEVER WOULD.

I also like taking a Sharpie to books–discarded books, to be clear. The first time I dragged the fat pen across the page, I definitely felt as if I was doing something wrong. But I also liked what I could make.

Look at this magic.

Now I really want to go make more things.

Thanks for reading!

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