Dear Reader,

Paper—so ubiquitous and familiar—holds a complexity that mirrors human ingenuity and connection. Its history transcends borders, carried through migration and storytelling, weaving together the threads of cultures, communities, and generations. As the world confronts the undeniable realities of climate crises, war, and destruction, the urgency to preserve cultural traditions becomes more critical than ever.

In this issue of Hand Papermaking, we honor the interplay between memory, tradition, and place, examining how the legacies of the past shape and influence a sustainable future of the craft. As we explore the rich histories embedded in landscapes and materials, we see how these stories inform our choices as artists, stewards of cultural memory, and advocates for preservation. Each author brings a personal connection to the papermaking stories that shape their practice, illuminating unique relationships with their surrounding and imagined landscapes. Language flows through the pages like a current, mixing and blending to reveal the interconnectedness of our expressions. We present original languages alongside translations, ensuring that discussions of origin stories, landscapes, and practices resonate in their fullest form.

Megan Diddie and Aya Nakamura of Switch Grass Paper ground their practice in the wild plants of the Midwest, drawing inspiration from the land itself while honoring the histories that precede them. From the lines of a laid mold to the fluid veils of color across her compositions, Virginia Jaramillo’s ethereal and delicate paper works, as described by Erin Dziedzic, reimagine watermarking and showcase how handmade paper can encapsulate metaphor in even the most subtle details.

This issue marks the significant debut of Taller Leñateros, an Indigenous publishing collective whose story is retraced by Christopher Alex Chablé through visits from San Cristóbal de las Casasto St. Louis. Every sheet they create carries ancestral knowledge—a tactile link between land, language, and community that pushes back against erasure. The paper sample created by the collective embodies the abundance and resilience of the Chiapas landscape, crafted from maguey and corn silk. Republished from Almanaque de los Leñateros (1987), their words remind us, “La materia prima de los sueños es casi siempre algo que ‘no sirve’”—a poignant message that what is dismissed often holds the most potential.

Cekouat E. León Peralta reflects on the economic pressures threatening amate traditions in San Pablito, Mexico, where the disruptions of migration fracture the exchange of knowledge in papermaking communities. James Ojacastro’s exploration of ethnobotany moves across three perspectives: the naturalist, the ecologist, and the conservationist, outlining the relationship between papermaking plants and their ecosystems. Alexandre Bonton reflects on adapting Japanese-style papermaking techniques to the Canadian landscape, reminding us that traditions are never static; they evolve with us. I recount a memorable visit to Capellades, Spain, where Victòria Rabal and I discussed the village’s centuries-old papermaking history and the environmental threats it faces, and how her drive to reimagine the possibilities of paper is vital to keeping this living heritage alive.

And lastly, the issue concludes with a selection of reviews and a paper sample chosen by Hand Papermaking editor Mina Takahashi. Diane J. Charnov reflects on “Eternal Paper,” an exhibition curated by Helen C. Frederick that traveled from the United States to Denmark, emphasizing its international significance. Nicholas Cladis presents a compelling review of Washi Memories, where Eleanor Burkett captures the unvarnished realities and narratives of papermaking in Kamikawasaki, Japan. Accompanied by a paper sample of Papel Corona, Carolina Larrea offers a powerful retelling of community healing and the transformation of discarded materials into art in Chile.

Conversations with authors, though separated by oceans and time zones, have underscored the deeply personal forces that shape our work. I am especially grateful for Mina’s unwavering guidance and thoughtful support, which have been instrumental in shaping this issue and encouraging me to explore the intricacies of storytelling. The landscapes we move through, the stories we carry, and the histories passed down to us are embedded in every sheet of paper, inspiring us to seek deeper meaning in our craft. To uplift. To preserve. To protect what is sacred—our story. What are we willing to protect and how committed are we to the need for transformation and revisioning that lies ahead? At a time when uncertainty feels like the only constant, the act of creating something as humble, yet enduring as handmade paper becomes lasting evidence of what can survive.

As you move through these pages, I invite you to linger on the stories you are preserving—how they might take shape—whether in the studio, at home, or in the wider world. Consider how these stories might unfold, and what futures they might help create.

Tamara Valdez

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