Over the years I have attended an assortment of Paper Burnings that have ranged from burning Textboooks, I.R.S. Forms, and even Harry Potter Books. Whatever the reason for burning the paper, it is always an exciting occasion that can bring out the most chilling emotions in a person’s soul. However brutal it might seem in igniting a piece of paper, there is a magical feeling that nobody can deny.
So on this Fourth of July, instead of watching a brilliant fireworks display or watching children run around with sparklers, I have decided to create my own special celebration – with fire and paper. “How will I go about doing this,” you may ask, or, “What will you be burning?” Well, fearless reader, for the last year I have kept a box full of paper’s that i have nicknamed ignitables. These ignitables include paper items such as gas stubs, old bills, letters from my ex-girlfriend (envelopes included), no less than 10 pictures of George W. Bush, a certain appalling article from The Boston Globe, an assortment of REI and LLBean catalogs, and one ceremonious book sacrifice – The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam – bought in a back alley bookshop in Baltimore (of which I bought more than one copy).
I will create a simple stone firepit in my backyard, and will use one simple match to ignite the papers. It will be an Independence Day to be remembered…
So I leave you with a teaser trailer of the excitement that emanates from the fumes of burnt paper:
I’ve long sought after a legendary type of graphing paper called “the Mint” that I originally heard about by my Grandfather. He had told me a story about two French Airmen who decided to open up their own paper business after the Second World War in Rouen, and began to create the most pristine and beautiful paper that has ever existed. To create a perfect balance of natural tenderness and artificial whiteness, they would harvest the pulp from the wood of imported Baobab Trees, and insert a secret ingredient that would capture and combine all colors of the visible spectrum to create the most lavish and flurry white that the human eye has ever caught sight upon…
This “urban legend” of the paper industry has had an indelible impact on my mind, so it came as quite a surprise to hear a similar story from a close coworker yesterday. However, in her version, she spoke of how the two Frenchmen would spoil their flawless product by graphing it up! I was sure that she was making up the entire graphing part, until the next day, when she brought in the most beautiful parchment of aged graphing paper I have ever seen in my life.
Yes, fair readers, the blue lines have dramatically fenced up the topography of the paper and the humid French Air has curdled up the original whiteness, but when I look into this paper and think back 50 years, I can see the crispness of a sheet of paper that we all must aspire to produce once more.
Has anybody else heard this story? Does anybody else have an actual piece of it?
