Today I was going to write a reminder about what a lovely paper Folio is. I went to Legion Paper and see it is no longer available.
It was a versatile printmaking paper sold in 22 x 30 inch sheets at a very affordable price—which, together with the fact that it folded well with the grain, was excellent for making hand-bound visual journals.
Yes, it was not a water-media paper, but I painted on it all the time. And I used it in many of my classes, to keep costs down, but quality up, for my students in the 1990s and early 2000s.
A Little Bit of Background
Many of my posts on Folio are in the closed archive. To briefly recap, when I came across it in the 1990s at the local Paper Source store “cream” was actually a lovely peachy color. It was the best paper for drawing in ink or color pencil ever. It had a slight tooth, but was very smooth. And it could take watercolor washes if you simply minded your water use!
Then the paper was remade/taken over by Legion. I don’t know if it was made at a new mill, but the paper was definitely different in texture and color.
Sadly I didn’t find out about this change until a box arrived for a journal class I was teaching. I opened the box in class to find a totally different paper from the one I expected to be using.
We continued on in class—it was still a lovely paper. But I spent the next month trying to find a vendor who had the original paper in stock so I could buy some up. This was around 2001. I did find some at Jerry’s Artarama. But even though I stipulated that a signature be required for delivery it was simply left on the front step of my then home, in a rain storm. (That door was never in use and a huge sign stated as much.)
The paper was doused and not found for days. It was ruined.
Jerry’s was happy to replace it, but when I asked questions about what they would be sending it was clear they would be sending the “New Folio.” The same stuff I’d had in class. They assured me it wasn’t. I bit. It arrived. It was the “New Folio.” I made sample books out of it for a couple years.
I moved on to other papers—that’s the reality of having a long habit of binding and visual journaling. Papers become defunct.
In the fullness of time I actually used some of those sample books (in 2001 I was perfecting the Roz Method and several of my prototypes were made with that paper).
Overtime when we can’t get one thing we really want to have we learn to live with another thing. (This is true in just about every facet of life, but it is a constant reality in the life of a life-long journal keeper.)
I learned to adapt my color pencil technique to the new paper, and, more importantly, I learned to adapt my watercolor approach to that paper.
Where I Stand Today
I like to bind in batches and I don’t work exclusively with one type of paper for long periods of time. That’s why in any given year you’ll see me post journal pages from books made with a variety of papers—each book only contains one type of paper, I’m rigid that way; but I do like to move from one type of paper and page size to another. It keeps my practice fresh.
Because I bind in batches and don’t work through a batch I’m fortunate that I still have a few of those books I made with the ORIGINAL peachy color “cream” Folio. And I have a few books with the “NEW Folio” as well. I take one off the shelf every 10 months or so and enjoy it.
I also have a stack of “waste” paper. These are the strips torn from large sheets so I could tear down the large sheets into the size pages I wanted when I was binding. Or they are the scrap pages I cut out of a journal (leaving a tab at the gutter) to allow for the thickness of collage material I was putting into a journal. Today’s painting is one of the latter. I have a small stack of those.
I wanted to write about this paper today because I was going to recommend the “NEW Folio” to you for visual journal binding. Even though it isn’t what the original Folio was, the “New Folio” was a useful paper and delightful paper.
Then of course I looked it up to give you ordering details and I learned it was discontinued.
I think the facial expression of today’s portrait says it all. We need to keep smiling as the things we love and enjoy and use disappear. But there is pain in that smile. And a bit of querying the Universe as to “why?”
What Can We Do?
This is a totally different post from the one I wanted to write today.
Instead of recommending a paper I offer today’s post as yet another cautionary tale about the transitory availability of art papers. My recommendations follow.
Don’t stockpile and hoard paper—you’ll load your creative life with the weight of that expense and a creativity-stifling sense of scarcity.
Do use your favorite papers while you have them.
If you have a special paper that is now defunct, don’t hoard it and save it for something “special.” Everyday is special. You can portion the remaining books or sheets out to yourself so you can enjoy it for a little while longer still (like I have done with one book or so of Folio a year); you can use it for a special project (as I did one of my fake journals with this paper), but you need to use it. (Paper can age and deteriorate, and the sizing can deteriorate depending on storage conditions—more reasons to use the paper up!)
Do try some new papers now and then so you have something to “land on” when your favorite paper dies!
Note: at the end of the 1990s I had a list of over 100 art papers I used for binding visual journals. That list contains less than 25 papers still existing today—only 30 years later. Of those 25 papers—many aren’t really the same paper any more because their sizing has changed. That means that probably about 8 papers on my master list are the same as they were in 1999.
Find Papers that You Love and Enjoy
Write in your journal what it is you love about the papers you use now and enjoy. Describe the drawing and painting experience with your favorite tools on that paper.
This isn’t an exercise in nostalgia. Being mindful of how you worked joyfully on these papers while you still have those papers (so you’re not relying on embellished memory), and knowing why they worked for you and your methods, will enable you to find other useful papers and adapt.
Life is about adaptation. It’s one of the great lessons of life-long journaling. It’s not just about the materials. It’s about understanding the context of your life, the quality of your mind, and the level of your skill. Everything is built on that foundation, and you pour that out onto every sheet you touch.
Happy and strenuous exploration.
