I know that many readers have similar feelings. Paper, as agent, has propelled us onwards as artists and craftspeople. We have worshipped its qualities with a religious fervor. Its symbolic and ethnographic properties have connected us to hand papermakers of other cultures and of the ancient past, and has fixed us collegially to an international network of like-minded artists who are intent on best-practice papermaking. This, then, is my second surprise––paper's gift to me of wonderful people, parties, and adventures in memorable places. The first papermakers' conference that I attended was in Kyoto in 1983 when my eyes and mind became infatuated with the translucent glow of Japanese papers. The Australian papermakers who travelled together to that event went on to form robust groups of devotees within this country. Many readers will have their own memories of that pivotal gathering. International paper conferences and workshops provide us with opportunities to travel with intent and purpose well beyond that of ordinary tourists. Remembering some of the funny, bizarre, and unexpected places I have found myself always brings a smile to my face—all fuelled by the paper quest. I have dined on wild boar and tripe with a hundred papermaking friends in a beautiful Tuscan monastery and eaten crow's meat in Holland. I spent days shucking walnuts to make rich, glossy dye with Tim Barrett in Iowa. Seven of us, nervous and naked (save for our borrowed flannelette nighties), crawled into the dark, claustrophobic heat of an Indian sweat lodge somewhere outside Edmonton. Signor Nicola Milano, dressed in bowler hat and elegant black coat, escorted me along the narrow alleys in Amalfi to show off his ancient underground paper mill. I dodged "friendly" gunfire while teaching in the Philippines and studied French binding under the tutorship of a German bookbinder in Switzerland. In my turn I have hosted a number of papermakers who have made long journeys to visit Tasmania and, while I list other places in the world as memorable, I hope they include their excursions to this tiny southern island among their favorite travel stories. The third surprise is how paper has extended and expanded my career, beyond the closure of the paper mill at the School of Art in 1998. It has afforded me work in the paper conservation laboratory at the State Library of Tasmania where the colonial treasures of that repository strongly influenced my recent books and graphic imagery. Paper is the predominate material in the freelance bookbinding, boxmaking, and graphic design business which I run with fellow artist Diane Perndt. When searching for the perfect sheet for a job, or for a new idea to work on, we love to rummage through our store of beautiful papers that we have amassed, both from our own making and those that we have garnered around the world. We have also curated several paper-based exhibitions and are currently working on the touring version of "Tasmania 1:100,000 Mapping the Island" which includes work from international paper artists including Laurence Barker, Helene Tschacher, Jacki Parry, and Amanda Degener. \[For an online catalog of the exhibition, go to www.mappingtheisland.com.au. Ed.\] Since I have been involved with hand papermaking, it seems every day brings me something new that is wonderful, enlightening, enriching, and great fun. I look forward to the glorious, papery future of opportunities, art experiences, and adventures.

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