Itajime designs can be stripes, symmetrical radial patterns, grids, lozenges, or lattices. The traditional Japanese papers are usually one or two hues, with tints created by dilution with water. They have a lovely relief texture, created by the creases of the folding process and can be exquisite in design and proportion, with a mesmerizing counterpoint of positive and negative shapes. Contemporary developments in colorants, various diluents, and repeated over-coloring can be used to create elegant, intricate, and highly skilled works of art. Myriad variables can be manipulated within itajime.   Japanese decorative papers have been produced since at least the Edo period (1600-1868 C.E.). Itajime paper became popular during the twentieth century as part of an aesthetic that appreciated the "people's arts" during the Mingei or folk crafts period (starting in 1926). Paper itajime was thought of as work for individuals less skilled than cloth shibori specialists. Winter work for farmers, when they would not be working in their fields, could include folding and coloring itajime papers with natural dyes. Folding, clamping, and coloring are easy, compared to other, more elaborate shibori processes. Nevertheless, within traditional itajime, regularity of pattern and repeatability were valued characteristics. Yoshiko Wada, an international shibori expert, told me that patterned papers were created in traditional paper making centers in many regions of Japan, including Kochi Prefecture on Shikoku Island. It was sold in Kyoto and in the Tango seaside area but was not necessarily made there.    Traditional uses for itajime papers are box and book covers, money or tissue wallets, gift wrap, and paper-covered dolls. Contemporary uses have expanded to include lamp shades, window covers, wallpaper, space dividers, stationery, artwork, jewelry, weaving, and shifu string or cord.   In itajime, color penetration is initiated and influenced by the artist but proceeds according to the principles of science. The dynamics of water movement; the chemical composition of the colorants and diluents; the exact characteristics of the paper; the artist's manual and aesthetic skills; and environmental conditions�all contribute to what develops. Two colorants that give the same color but are not made from the same chemicals will likely behave differently in itajime. Varying the amount or type or alcohol will change solubility, cohesive forces, and possibly reactivity. Differences in pH, salt concentration, or pre-treatment of paper can also influence the rate of migration of colorants into the fiber. The many physical and chemical variables make it difficult to repeat patterns but they offer the possibility, through careful experimentation, of generating a specific pattern. With experience, the artist can attain a high degree of precision and control.   When liquid comes in contact with paper, it moves around, into, and through the fibers. The process, known as capillary action, occurs as a result of adhesion and cohesion. Adhesion is the property of attraction between two materials; cohesion is the attraction of a material to itself. Water's attraction to paper is greater than water's attraction to itself. The surface tension of a liquid results from cohesion, which allows gold leaf to float on water or a water strider to run across the surface of a pond. Adhesion is what causes a meniscus, the concave surface of water in a glass or the convex surface of mercury in a thermometer. In itajime these properties create a push-pull force in which first the water in a reservoir moves gradually onto an edge of paper and then the water in the paper draws additional water from the tray. Migration of a liquid through paper is also affected by other interacting properties of the liquid and the paper. A viscous, syrupy liquid will migrate more slowly than a fluid, runny liquid and large spaces between fibers may slow the migration of liquid. Absorption continues until the paper is saturated or the process is stopped.   The characteristics of the papers used for itajime greatly influence the outcome. Waterleaf or minimally sized papers of even thickness and high wet strength are the most desirable. Waterleaf papers abet and sized papers impede the absorption of color. Thin paper (forty-four grams per square meter or thinner) that readily absorbs water works best. Thin papers can be more accurately folded and clamped, and are less bulky. They also require less colorant. Papers with good wet strength typically have longer fibers and at least one smooth surface, which facilitate unfolding the sodden papers. Relatively consistent space between fibers enables a uniform absorption of colorant. Often, itajime papers highlight the use of fibers of different lengths. Longer fibers appear as inclusions in the sheet and absorb more or less colorant than the shorter, surrounding fibers. These inclusions can dramatically emphasize the structure and uniqueness of a handmade paper.   A feathery deckle edge is imprecise compared to a tight deckle or a cut edge and when a sheet is couched unevenly the resulting paper may form a skewed rhomboid rather than a rectangle. Both make it more difficult to fold the paper accurately and precisely, as the adjacent edges are not at right angles. When a sheet is lacy or tapers in thickness from the center to the edge the paper is likely to tear during unfolding. In such cases I leave the outer edges folded until the paper is dry or nearly dry.   I have used many unsized, commercially available papers for itajime. These include handmade papers made of kozo and banana; amatl bark papers from Mexico (which are brittle, so I dampen them and let them rest before I fold them); and New Zealand flax (from Mark Lander). I have also used machine-made papers, both Eastern and Western; coffee filters; unwaxed paper made for medical examination tables; and even paper toweling.1 Sized papers are harder to work with�they draw in the color poorly, making absorption uneven and slow�but I have had some success with them, both handmade and machine-made, including colored and white wrapping tissue.2    Many inks and dyes are made of several chemicals mixed together to produce a special color. These differ in their composition and chemical attributes. Differences include their mass (molecular weight), size and shape (molecular volume), solubility, charge, and chemical reactivity. Because of these variations, each chemical will behave differently to the physical and chemical features of the paper and the liquid migrating through it. This is most easily demonstrated by placing a drop of fountain pen ink or food coloring on a piece of absorbent paper and observing the separation of colors into halos.    Colors used in itajime also sometimes interact differently than they would in other techniques. For example, yellow ink used in itajime will function contrary to what most artists have experienced through work with paint. Usually dark colored paint like navy blue, purple, or black will overpower yellow. In itajime, yellow ink will overpower other colors and displace them, and can be used to lighten a dark color area. Similarly, water or alcohol can push colorants away and can also lighten an area.    Colorants for itajime must be extremely finely ground so that they dissolve and disperse in liquid. I recommend Higgins waterproof, fade-proof pigmented calligraphy inks and high grade, liquid, black sumi-e inks. I have found that non-pigmented calligraphy inks fade quickly or bleed when they become damp or are re-wet. Other pigmented calligraphy inks, gouache, and pan or tube watercolors do not work well, either, as their pigment particle size is too large to flow into and through the paper.    Any water-soluble color can be used in this process. Indigo dye, a vat dye, can yield magical gradations of blue. Walnut hull solution (made by boiling in water) or extract (made by soaking in alcohol) also work nicely. Grocery or culinary supply store food coloring works but yields fugitive color. Many dyes require so many procedural steps and paper movement during the dye process that the paper may wear badly or even rip before completion.   I use diluents, such as water and isopropyl alcohol, to create different color values and distinct effects. I may dip the stack first in diluent and then color, or vice versa. When I apply the diluent first, it makes the innermost advancing edge wet with liquid. A distinct separation between areas of color, such as a clean-cut delineation between radial petals can be created using diluent first. The diluent can also be colored. Water as a diluent creates soft edges on the pattern shapes. Alcohol creates halos of color, because of rapid evaporation and differences in colorant surface tensions.   Appropriate safety, or self-preservation, requires barrier hand cream, gloves, and a water-resistant apron when working with these liquids. Alcohol fumes can become overpowering, so good ventilation is also necessary.    Clamp block materials can be shapes made from Plexiglas, glass, hand-cut or die-cut wood, fomecore board, or Styrofoam, cut to the size of the folded stacks. Dowels and broomsticks, bamboo or plastic chop sticks, and square stainless steel rods also work well. Sharp edges should be avoided or removed. Hardware such as keys, washers, hinge plates with holes, hair or paper clips, clothespins, and table flatware yield interesting results. Transparent clamping materials permit me to watch the liquid move into the paper.   I use tiny trays with shallow side walls about half an inch deep for my colorants. I have had success with thin, transparent, molded plastic package covers, made for holding things like screws, and individual silverware organizer trays. For longer trays (for big projects) I have tried wallpaper wetting out troughs and plastic pipes sawed in half lengthwise, with pipe caps glued to the ends.   In traditional itajime, paper is folded precisely into an accordion fan, first in half, then quarters, then eighths, and so on. Some folds need to be reversed to create zigzag folds. I secure the folds with paper clips to prevent splaying of the fan as I fold further. Thereafter, folds are made in another direction to create a compact stack. A finger or bone folder held inside each fold as it is made creates even, smooth inner folds. Isosceles or right-angle triangles, rectangles of various dimensions, or irregular folds are all possibilities. When folding triangles, I make the first two folds face up to check the correctness of the shape. Then I flip the paper stack over and complete the folding with the paper tail in the air resting on my shoulder. I fold rectangles in halves and halves again, as with the original folds in the sheet. Traditionally, folds are always kept to the outside of the stack, by folding back and forth. Paper folded around itself instead of in a zigzag creates gradations of pattern density.   After I fold the paper, I place the blocks, shaped plates, sticks, or rods on either side of the folded stack and hold the assembly together. The shapes are usually a pair of identical pieces. For itajime on fabric, the binding is very tight to prevent the penetration of dye. For itajime on paper, the bindings are usually loose, so that the flow of liquid is directed but not prevented. I gently attach rubber bands, strings, screw clamps, or spring clamps, or I use tweezers, pliers, or my fingers to hold the blocks in place on either side of the folded paper.    To color the paper, I dip either the corners or whole sides of a bundle into diluents and colors. Traditional straight up and down dipping results in a regular repeat pattern across the paper. Asymmetrical dipping can create greater color and pattern variety and gradations of pattern size, color, and positive-negative emphasis. I touch only the resist blocks while coloring the paper, to keep oil and fingerprints off and to avoid wear on the paper. The block on either side of the stack prevents liquid from being rapidly absorbed directly through the planar surfaces. Even with blocks on the two sides the paper absorbs a little more color in the outermost layers of the stack. The paper absorbs color gradually, from the folded edges to the middle of a stack. Three or more paper stacks combined between one pair of blocks yields regular patterning throughout the middle stacks of paper.    The term "dwell time" refers to how long I leave the folded stack in a liquid and how long I wait until I unfold it. Dwell time, anywhere from a fraction of a second to half an hour, effects how much absorption takes place. During the dwell time, I lay the stack on its block side or on edge. I sometimes remove the bindings, to reduce impediments to the flow of the liquids. The stack can also be squeezed to disperse the colors differently. A dwell time that is too long, for my aesthetic standards, causes indistinct, merged markings.   When I unfold the stack, I lay the paper out horizontally on two or more layers of cotton cloth or on clean, absorbent paper. This facilitates quick evaporation and absorption of excess moisture. I handle the paper with focused care to prevent tears and disappointment as I unfold the sodden stack. My experience in handling fresh, wet, pressed sheets of newly made paper helps with this step. I open from the center folds first and progress toward the edges. I stand at a high work table when I unfold, touching only the wet areas and wiping my fingertips frequently. With each opening of a fold I flip the paper over to reveal the next folds to be opened. Because evaporation is upward, the surface that faces up after unfolding will show greater detail. If wet itajime papers are hung to dry, gravity will pull the liquid down, and elongated, merged, and less-distinct patterns appear toward the bottom edges.   Drying itajime papers can take ten minutes or several hours, depending on the temperature, humidity, and air flow. Hot moving air and sunshine facilitate faster drying. When they are nearly dry, I gather the papers and hang them in a warmer, dryer location. When they are bone dry, I stack the papers and lay heavy plate glass and weights on them for as long as several days. The creases of the paper are valued as one of the unique, exquisite aesthetic aspects of itajime paper but if I want flatter papers I press them with a clean, dry iron, sometimes with a press cloth or cover paper.   Over-coloring or recoloring itajime papers yields a rich visual bonus as the complexity of the resulting patterned papers is compounded. Double, triple, and quadruple over-color work can be done with different itajime fold sizes, stack shapes, or clamp blocks. Sometimes the underlying colored patterns act as a resist, if the ink has cured for a few days.    Unfolding the wet papers is like unwrapping a present. Of all the shibori techniques, I find itajime the most interesting one for paper. The way that it can be highly controlled and technical yet simultaneously uncontrollable is a seductive dance. I find the inability to dictate minute color and pattern variations continually fascinating.    Soetsu Yanagi, in The Unknown Craftsman, A Japanese Insight to Beauty, writes about pattern irregularity. For me, his words apply well to the repeating patterns of itajime. He writes of pattern as a means of perception about life, its meaning, its beauty, the simple, the intuitive. Pattern can be decorative and can also lead one into thought, meditation, awareness, and delight. It can be a vehicle to all and nothingness at the same time.    Shibui is a Japanese term referring to profound natural beauty. Itajime contains shibui for me, replete with mesmerizing nuance and variation. The potential of combined variables and the tango of control over materials and collaboration with natural phenomenon holds the suggestion of the infinite for me.     Endnotes   1. Some specific papers I have tried are: Sumi-e Painting Sketch Paper pads and rolls, Kozo Art # HP 549, Kozo # HP 436, Kozo # HP 547, Kozo # HP 248, and Unryu # HBP 179 (all imported from Japan by Yasutomo & Co. of San Francisco); Arches 88, Banana, Carabao, Copperplate, Fabriano Rosapina Heavyweight, Gampi, German Etching, German Ingres, Goyu, Hoshu Professional, Kochi, Mulberry, Reversible Unryu, Rives BFK waterleaf rolls, Soft Unryu, and Thai(all available from Daniel Smith Art Supply Co. of Seattle). I have had the most success with the papers from Yasutomo and the Copperplate.  2. I have successfully used handmade Chinese Gaoli (rice straw) and Shuan (bamboo) papers (available from China Books in San Francisco); Mulberry paper (from Daniel Smith); and Rakusui (lace paper).

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