paper by quentin fiore

       The manufacture of paper by hand enjoys a long and fascinating history--the unbroken tradition of an esthetic craft and a practical art. The art of papermaking gives us our most basic material for written communication: the silent tongue frequently more eloquent than our speaking tongue. In the papered world in which we live, a world of bank notes, billboards, and belles letters, we tend to forget the tool which first made possible this handsome material: the paper mold--simple and ingenious-- which is the central figure of this article. by Quentin Fiore

"Quentin Fiore, graphic designer, calligrapher, typographer, and paper enthusiast, became interested in the neglected study of handmade paper some years ago. Mr. Fiore regards paper as not merely a surface but an integral part of any graphic presentation. The hand-decorated paste-paper at right was made under his direct supervision. In dedication to the late Harrison Elliott, friend and paper scholar--a modest tribute to his kind encouragement and expert guidance in the study of the "white art."

       Handmade paper is a jewel, sought after by those whose tastes crave something that has been touched by human hands ; something nurtured by tradition and with a personality all its own. Paper as we know it today is far removed from the delicate craft of the papermaker whose traditions stretch back nearly two thousand years and across the world. It took handmade paper a millenium (105 A.D. to 1151 A.D.) to make its remarkable journey from China, through the Middle East and Africa, and then to Europe through Spain, where the Pillars of Hercules were just an invasion away from Moorish Africa.

The Egyptian Book of the Dead on papyrus - a laminated substance made from the inner
 bark of a tall sedge found along the banks of the Nile river. Read more about it.

       But eons before man produced paper, it was being made in the great coal forests of the carboniferous era, when among the lords of the earth were some of the insects of today. Among these was the Hymenopterous of the family of Vespidae, known simply as the "paper wasp." Millions of years ago, this lowly insect, which we have good reason to shy away from, developed the first true paper. We have had to learn to imitate the natural process of this winged papermaker who, without benefit of vats, molds, beaters and all the other appointments of the papermaker's trade, nibbles away at any source of dry wood, masticates it, and then exudes a paste -like substance which serves as a binder for her miraculous product. With this paper, she constructs a form of habitation that is, apart from the material used, a marvel of technology to which architects are returning as a source for creative inspiration.

Above, A letter "O" from the 
Berthold manuscript (German)
written and illuminated on vellum, an
exquisite medieval writing material
from skins of calves.  Also referred
to as a sacramentary (hymnal)

       Many materials were used for the purpose of communication before man learned to imitate this first papermaker. Thoughts, in the form of words and images, were carved upon stone ; scratched into clay tablets ; cut into brass, copper, bronze, lead, and wood; painted upon the walls of caves, leaves, and barks of trees, upon laminated surfaces such as Amatl, Huun, Tapa, and Papyrus, on cloth such as silk, and also upon animal skins‚Äî vellum and parchment. Before speaking of paper, it might not be amiss to clear away two common misconceptions of paper on the part of some. One of the materials used as a writing surface before the development of paper is particularly important because it has mistakenly come down to the present day as the first form of paper. The word for it, familiar to every schoolboy, is "papyrus." The mistaken notion is perhaps due to the etymology of "paper": the Latin word "papyrus," from which our word "paper" derives. Thus papyrus is often confused with paper, or at best, thought of as its earliest form. It is in no sense either of these things, for papyrus was made from the pith of a tall sedge found in great quantities along the banks of the Nile and was used as a writing substance in Egypt and by the neighboring Mediterranean people. The basic difference between paper and papyrus lies in their manufacture: papyrus is a laminated surface of 'strips of the sedge pith while paper is made by macerating fibers to produce an aqueous solution of pulp.
       Another substance which is often confused with paper is so-called "rice paper." Much prized by some as the most typical product of oriental papermakers, this elegant, very white thin substance is not paper at all. In reality, it is the pith of a plant that grows in Formosa, which is cut spirally into strips, and is usually used to make charming artificial flowers. Unfortunately, and inaccurately, the term "rice paper" has come to mean all oriental papers. Although rice is the universal staple of the Orient, it cannot be used to make paper.
       Before the advent of paper, and for several hundreds of years after its appearance in Spain, Europeans derived an exquisite writing surface from the prepared skins of lambs and calves. These skins were made into vellum and parchment and were used by the scribes and illuminators of medieval Europe in place of papyrus, since the papyrus sedge could not be practically raised on the continent. Man's ability to "make do" with the materials available to him accounts for the many differences in paper throughout the world. For instance, the Arabs of Samarkand (751 A.D.), although they had probably come into contact with oriental papermaking through wars, had no mulberry tree from which to form paper; linen rags, plentiful in the land at the time, were therefore used as a substitute pulp material. Apart from various substitutes proposed from time to time, there are, broadly speaking, two basic categories in which hand papermaking materials fall: vegetable fibers in their natural state, and cotton and/or linen rags. Vegetable fibers are used in the Orient, while rags form the basis from which pulp is made in the West.

A Russian birch bark letter (14th century) See also an example
from Native Americans here called, "Wiigwaasabak"

       If there is one man in all history who deserves credit for conceiving the process by which handmade paper is made, he is a Chinese eunuch named Ts'ai Lun, a privy councilor to the Eoyal Court of Ho Ti. An ancient Chinese scholar wrote: "Under the reign of Ho Ti (89-105 A.D.), Ts'ai Lun, of Lei-yang, conceived the idea of making paper from the bark of trees, discarded cloth, and hemp well-prepared; the paper was then in use in the entire universe." Perhaps Ts'ai Lun, denied the pleasurable pursuits that often distract other men, found time to gaze at the paper wasp and wonder why man too could not make paper. But Ts'ai Lun did find time to become involved in a court intrigue as an inventor of slanders against a member of the Imperial family and his end was worthy of the most confirmed stoics of another culture: having given himself up to the minister of Justice, Ts'ai Lun experienced such deep feelings of remorse and shame that he ended his life by bathing and dressing himself in his most elaborate robes and quaffing poison. Ts'ai Lun left behind him a legacy far greater and of far more import than that of many a conqueror. History, full of Tamerlanes and Caesars, records only one Ts'ai Lun. Ts'ai Lun saw, with unusual insight, the possibilities of manufacturing a writing substance from strips of silk which remained after newly mounted scroll manuscripts had been trimmed. Waste of this sort would naturally concern a man with the type of mind with which Ts'ai Lun was endowed. It was clear to him that after beating these silk left-overs until they were reduced to a fibrous pulp, some contrivance was needed upon which this aqueous substance could be poured and, after drying, formed into a writing material of very economical manufacture. What was required was a screen which would retain the matted fibers on its surface and at the same time allow the excess water to drain through. Thus was born the paper mold, and it is to this simple device that this article pays homage.

• the paper mold: simplicity and ingenuity
• paper's journey from china to america
• the love of the craft in japan
• the invention of the hinged mold
• waterpower and wind mills in europe
• new materials sought
• introduction of the rigid wire mold
• the paper mold illustrated
• glossary and bibliography 

More About Paper History:

• The unfolding history of paper

history of the dennison manufacturing company, part 1

The following article has been edited and pngs. restored from a 1919 resource, originally published by the Dennison Manufacturing Company by K. Grimm

The Founder of the Business.

       The business life of E. W. Dennison from 1844, when he went with his brother Aaron into the box business, until his death in 1886, is practically the story of the Dennison Manufacturing Co. for the same period. In those years he gave every ounce of enthusiasm in him and the best thoughts of an unusually active brain toward the development of the business which he always unselfishly called "Aaron's baby."

       In time of prosperity as well as in times of business trials‚ and there were more of the latter than of the former at the start of things, Mr. Dennison always looked out into the future with a healthy optimism and kept on working.

        His sterling principles of business morality laid down in 1844 have continued to be the Dennison precepts and will so continued as long as the business remained.

       Eliphalet Whorf Dennison was born in Topsham, Me., Nov. 23, 1819, and died at Marblehead, Mass., Sept. 22, 1886. When the company was incorporated in 1878 as the Dennison Manufacturing Co. he became its first president and held that office until his death.

Col. Andrew Dennison's Home, Brunswick, Me.

       The beginnings of our company have been told and retold, but we must make one more record of them for this anniversary book. In 1844 Aaron Dennison, who was then in the jewelry business in Boston, decided that he could make paper boxes better than the imported product. He journeyed to New York, bought a supply of box board and cover paper, and took them to the old Dennison homestead in Brunswick, Me., where his father, Col. Andrew Dennison, lived. There Col. Andrew seated on his cobbler's bench cut out the first boxes made in America, and they were put together and covered by the deft hands of his daughters. The first workshop was in the upper room of the extension between the main house and the barn. In 1920 some Dennison boxes were still being made in that little room by descendants of those who began to work there seventy-five years earlier.

       In the main entrance of the Dennison office building in Framingham sat the old cobbler's bench of Col. Andrew Dennison. Looking at it one is reminded of the tablet to Sir Christopher Wren, the architect, which is in St. Paul's Cathedral in London. The tablet said, "If you seek my monument, look about you." So, too, if the work-worn cobbler's bench could speak it would said to those who looked at it, " If you seek a monument to the industry and high ideals of those who began this business, look about you at the great pile of buildings which in 1920 housed over 2600 workers and from which Dennison goods poured out daily to the far corners of the earth."

On this bench the first boxes were made.

       Aron L. Dennison started the box-making business and was responsible for its successful beginning. Then he turned it over to his younger brother, E. W. Dennison. Proudly he watched the younger man develop the sales and manufacturing divisions. He saw the business grow out of the Dennison homestead at Brunswick and seek new quarters; he saw the establishment of stores in the large cities and the taking on of salesmen; he saw countless other items added to the Dennison line. He unselfishly yielded to his younger brother the credit for making the success. E. W. Dennison on his side always acknowledged his debt to Aaron for having begun the enterprise.

       After retiring from the box business, Aaron Dennison devoted himself to the successful development of the machine-made watch. He was called the father of American watchmaking. The later years of his life were spent in England.

       In the old days when they were making boxes in Brunswick they didn't have any time clocks and rules and regulations, and all of the other accessories necessary to the modern factory. If you felt like a piece of pie about eleven o'clock in the forenoon, why you just left your work and got it at a little bakery across the street. When a traveling photographer came along and wanted to take a picture of the "hands," everybody would quit work and stand around the front door. That accounts for the little picture in the "inset" shown here, which was taken in 1870.

       The lower building pictured was the Poland block in Brunswick, in which E. W. Dennison established a box shop on the second floor when his business outgrew the old Dennison barn. About thirty hands were employed there.

       The upper building shown on the Swift block, was another Dennison box shop. It was later operated by E. W. Dennison's capable sister, Mrs. Mathilda Swift.

The man who started the
Box-making Business.

       As more jewelers came to young E. W. Dennison to get their boxes, new quarters had to be found and the business moved into what was known as the " Dunlap block" on Brunswick's main street. There fifty hands were employed and quite a number of men and women still with the concern in Framingham began work in the old Dunlap block. The building was burned on Christmas night, 1879, and was a total loss. Then the block shown just right was erected and Dennison boxes were made there until the box department was moved to the Roxbury factory in 1894.

       The " inset" shows a traveling minstrel show in front of the " old Dunlap block." It was a big night in Brunswick when the "Georgia Minstrels" performed there.

       Aron Dennison and his father had turned out the first boxes by hand, and the instant popularity of the new product brought in orders which taxed the little homestead workshop. Father and son realized that it was production and not orders which would be likely to worry them, so they put their heads together and worked out the first rough box machine. The wooden model of the first machine is shown left, and sitting on top of the model is a paper box made in 1844. The machine was still the standard machine of its kind in all box factories in 1920. Over a score of them are were still use in the box division of the Dennison Manufacturing Co. at Framingham during the early half of the 20th Century.

Above, The Swift Block, Brunswick, Me. Below, The Poland Block, Brunswick, Me. Inset, An Old-time Group.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 and Part 5

decorated end papers: seventeenth to twentieth century

       By Decorated Book Papers are meant those sheets intended for the end papers or covers of books but occasionally used as lining papers for boxes and small articles of furniture.

       These papers were printed from woodblocks, made with paste, or marbled. The fifteenth- and sixteenth-century woodblock papers were designed for a specific book cover and were not, as were later woodblock papers, decorative in the sense that they could be used for other purposes. Some seventeenth-century patterns, whose designs were evidently influenced by contemporary leather bindings, could be used for any book or pamphlet; but it was not until the eighteenth century that decorated book papers or a repeated pattern were first printed.

llustration of the marbling tray and tools
 taken from the book School of Arts
(1750) as reproduced in The Art of
 Bookbinding by Joseph Zaehnsdorf
(1890).

       The most striking printed book papers were those made from the early eighteenth century in Nuremberg, Augsburg and Furth and known as Dutch Gilt papers because the Dutch imported them and exported them to the rest of Europe. Almost identical papers were made in Bassano. Dutch Gilt papers are printed from either woodblock or metal plates, the printed pattern usually quite heavily embossed. Two general types may be noted: one in which the design is printed and gilded over a sheet that had been previously covered with one solid color; in the other the block, or plate, is inked with several colors which more or less correspond to the design, these are printed at once on a sheet that had already been gilded. The range of patterns is a wide one with influence of textile design that may be recognized in papers which recall damasks, brocades, and embroidery. But in these the technique of cutting the block or plate has permitted the craftsman to use a finer line and produce a more delicate design than those found in textiles. More closely imitative are those papers which simulate vellum or leather. In these the embossed design creates an almost identical effect as tooling in the leather. And in sheets with a more loosely organized design, figures similar to those used by woodcuts, or for broadsides, can be seen. Though Dutch Gilt papers used these and other sources of design, in execution they were in no way inferior. They were doubtless less expensive than the rich textiles they often imitated, but it must not be thought that they were entirely a poor man's substitute. They were used as end papers in finely bound books and may be found even in royal and Papal bindings.

       These papers were conservative in their use of patterns. A paper will usually be some years later than a textile with a similar pattern. Though fanciful in design, exotic motifs are rare; occasionally a Turk or a Chinese is seen, but not as frequently as might be expected in such a purely decorative art. This may be due to the provincial location of their origin or to the innate conservatism of the craftsman.

Dominoté paper forming the cover 
of a brochure, eighteenth century

       Earlier than the Dutch Gilt but less spectacular are the productions of the dominotiers of France. They were so named from the popular religious pictures, dominos, that in earlier centuries had represented their principal production. They made marbled papers as well as printed sheets. These sheets were used as wall coverings and, in smaller patterns, for books and linings for furniture. They were printed from woodblocks and colored by stencil. As the patterns were widely used and the sheets seldom labeled, identification is usually not possible. Orleans and Paris were the two centers of manufacture. It is often difficult to distinguish between French and Italian printed papers of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. The most considerable producer of Italian papers was the firm of Remondini, established at Bassano in 1649 and issuing papers until 1861. Some of their blocks are still being used. These papers, quite Venetian in their sumptuous colors, at first were imitative of textiles. Later their design seemed more closely related to that of wall paper, but many were quite unique and even bizarre in their effects. But in general during the later eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, French and Italian papers no longer attempted to simulate other materials and textures but instead merely drew on patterns used in wall papers, printed textiles, and even lace. This was quite changed in the latter part of the century when the increased use of the machine influenced the production of decorated book covers as it did all the decorative arts. Papers were still eclectic in design but now the imitation of textiles lacked the naivete of earlier efforts and offended by its slickness; cheap paper pretending to be moire is hardly as satisfying, though it may be a closer imitation, as earlier and richer papers.

       At the mid-century, however, impressive papers were still produced. These often seem to be miniature wallpapers, some were flocked and they had a slight touch of the over-extended fantasy so often found in decorative art of the Second Empire. Opposed to these meretriciously machine-made papers of the end of the century some contemporaneous printed book papers reflect a return to medieval simplicity, that bare-handed revolt against the machine. But the popularity of these was limited and they were soon outnumbered by papers glittering with tinsel and color. By this time the variety of end papers was wide; in addition to those just mentioned end papers carrying advertising were used, and pictorial end papers with a subject related to the content of the book. Because of the elaborate machinery involved, printed papers are not as popular with the artist-craftsman of today as are marbled or paste papers. However, since 1920 the Curwen Press of England has commissioned a pleasantly designed series known as St. Albans papers which have been popular as end papers as well as covers.

       Paste papers are almost as old as the block-printed; they originated in the sixteenth century and the same techniques are used today. In some papers the colored paste is applied to the papers and printed with a block cut in relief, and the pattern results from the paste that has been displaced. If the paper is printed with an intaglio-cut block the pattern appears darker and more clearly defined against a lighter ground. In another method the paste is applied to the block, as ink. In another the sheet is not printed but drawn upon with a comb leaving a pattern of parallel lines. These methods may be combined, and rollers, brushes, or sponges, used. Two sheets covered with colored paste may be pressed together and pulled apart to make two "pulled paste" sheets. Because paste papers offer almost maximum flexibility of design and the patterns can be controlled and repeated to a degree not possible in marbling, and elaborate equipment is not necessary, paste papers are popular today for end papers and bindings.

      A marbled paper, unlike a printed one, is unique. Only one sheet can be marbled from the colors which have been floated upon the size. The same colors may be used for another sheet but the design can never be absolutely identical.

Wallpaper - Hyacinth, pattern #480 - 1915-17.
 Morris' Acanthus wallpaper design, (1875, right)

       The art of marbling paper seems to have originated in Persia, probably in the fifteenth century; but it was soon practiced in Turkey and when marbled papers were used in Europe, from the late sixteenth century, they were known as Turkish. Though the variety of marbled patterns is infinite the patterns are classified according to distinct categories. One of the earliest known is a coarsely combed pattern called Old Dutch, and the French Curl, or Snail pattern is almost as old. Spanish marbled papers originated in the seventeenth century; their moire effect is achieved by lowering the paper onto the marbling tray unevenly. The broken effect in Stormont paper is created by adding turpentine to the color. In the early nineteenth century the fine combed patterns known as Nonpareil was first used. These were first made like any other marbled papers but towards the end of the century were made by a machine, the papers being glazed by passing through hot rollers. Nonpareil and similar rather mechanically executed papers were widely used from the middle of the century and well into the twentieth. In the last quarter of the nineteenth century the self-consciously artistic Morris papers were first made; they represent the beginning of revival of interest on the possibilities of marbled paper. Today marbled papers, made as they were in the seventeenth century, are as varied in design and excellent in quality as ever in their history. The disciplined patterns which are the invention of Douglas Cockerell represent one contribution of the twentieth century to this art. French, German, and Swedish papers illustrate the widespread present interest in marbling and the excellence of the work done. In some examples marbled papers achieve a fantastic effect, perhaps more to be admired than imitated, never before realized.

       In design paste papers are the most original for they can be said to imitate nothing. The marbled papers' origin is revealed in their name, but marbles as these were never found in nature. Printed papers vary from precise imitations of the texture and pattern of other materials to fantastic sheets that please rather in their originality. The uniqueness of almost every sheet, the variety of design, the consistently high level of craftsmanship and a slightly illusive air of the bizarre constitute the attraction of decorated book papers. But perhaps most worthy of remark is the manner in which this craft, while maintaining its excellences so well developed in previous centuries, continues in our own day to find original and beautiful modes of expression. William Osmun 

A sample of restored marbleized paper.

• Decorative Papers from the Christian Clip Art Review 

"Barb Owen introduces you to Paste Paper - a fabulous
 marriage of paste and paint. Learn to make your beautifully
 patterned papers without breaking a sweat."

the art of paper cutting

The Art of Paper Cutting

An Accomplishment of the Last Century Revived

      The quaint old accomplishment of paper cutting has become almost a lost art, except where it is still remembered by a few old ladies as having been fashionable when they were young. Perhaps some of them can still take a piece of paper and a pair of scissors and cut out designs, but their hands are too old and tremulous to execute as delicate and complex patterns as they used to make.

cut watch papers by Miss Hunnywell

      The designs for these cut papers were never drawn, but the paper was generally doubled so that the pattern when unfolded, was duplex, giving a certain regularity.

      The girls of 50 years ago became very skillful at this work, and one lady tells of often seeing her old mother, as the family sat talking after dinner, draw out a pair of small scissors, pick any envelope or bit of paper, and seemingly without any thought or trouble, cut out the most exquisite flowers and arabesques.

      Cut papers were used for many purposes of decoration. Sometimes they were cut with a ring at one end that slipped over a candle, the leaf of delicate paper lace hanging down in front of the candlestick like an apron. These “candle papers,” when dipped in melted wax and then allowed to harden, had almost the look of exquisitely carved ivory.

      Sometimes the papers were cut in rounds to fit into the lids of watches, and were presented by young ladies to the gentlemen of their acquaintance and the young men of that day counted their popularity by the number of watch papers that they had received.

      Young ladies exchanged cut papers with each other as tokens of friendship and these shaped like hearts, ovals or envelopes, were often further embellished by delicately painted wreaths and flowers, and by the sentimental verses of the day, written upon a space left for them.

      Sometimes the cut papers were merely considered as works of art, and as such were mounted on black haircloth and framed. No paste was used in the mounting, as the papers were too delicate, and besides it would have yellowed them. The edges were simply smoothed out with a soft brush, and the glass put over them to hold them in place.

      These large cut papers were often done in memory of some one loved and lost, and the center would be cut in the shape of a funeral urn and tablet. Upon this tablet might appear some verse, the letters cut out with a sharp penknife after the rest was finished. A favorite one was:

“Now to the winds let all my sighs be

given,

And reach—tho’ lost on earth—the ear of

Heav’n.”

      Then would follow the date and perhaps the words, “Beloved the’ Lost.”

a candle paper cut

      The only branch of this art that still seems to be well known is that of silhouettes, but this requires much more talent than the others, for the power of catching a likeness is comparatively rare.

      The most elaborate silhouettes had the eyes and hair afterwards touched in with white or gold paint. The silhouettes themselves were generally black. But there are some examples left where the profile was cut out in white and laid on black.

      About 50 years ago a young lady of extremely small stature called Miss Hunnywell, made herself quite famous as a professional paper cutter, and it was considered  “the thing” among the young gentlemen of that day to have a watch a paper cut by Miss Hunnywell.

      The manner of her cutting was very ingenious, for she had neither hands nor feet. On her right shoulder was something like a thumb, on her left side something that might pass for a hand with two fingers, and with these and her mouth she managed to cut out the most exquisite designs and lace with marvelous rapidity.

      Her work was so much in demand, not only for its beauty, but because of its being somewhat of a curiosity, that she, traveling from place to place, and exhibiting her work, earned quite a little fortune. It was enough to make her mark for a rogue, who married her, and then ran away with her money, leaving her penniless.

      It is said that after he deserted her the lady would never cut papers again, and died in an absolute state of penury.

      There was a certain Mistress Dolly Nichols of Petersburg, who was quite wonderful at this art of paper cutting, and her drawing room was decorated with a whole series of pictures from Mazeppa, wild horses and all, which she cut out without the aid of pencil or any guide but her own fancy.

      But this art goes further back than the time of Miss Hunnywell or Mistress Nicholas. It is some time early in 1700 that Mrs. Delaney, in her “Autobiography and Correspondence,” writes of her closet at the farm as “decorated with little drawings and cut papers of my own doing.”

      Later on, when speaking of a young Mr. Twyford, who was deeply in love with her, she says:

      “His mother’s cruel treatment of him, and absolute refusal of her consent for his marrying me, affected him so deeply as to throw him into the palsy. He lived in this wretched state about a year after my marriage. After he was dead they found under his pillow a cut paper that he had stolen out of my closet at the Farm.”

      When Mrs. Delaney was over 70 years old, she made her first attempt at copying flowers in cut paper.

     Her manner of doing it was thus described: “Having a piece of Chinese paper on the table of a bright scarlet, a geranium caught her eye of a similar color, and taking her scissors, she amused herself in cutting out each flower by her eye in the paper. She laid the paper petals on a black backgrond, and was so pleased with the effect that she proceeded to cut out the calyx, stalks and leaves in shades of green, and pasted them down, and after she completed a sprig of geranium in this way the Duchess of Portland came in and exclaimed, “What are you doing with that geranium?” having taken the paper imitation for the real flower.”

      This was the beginning of the collection of cut-paper flowers, which before her death numbered 380 sheets, each one different.

      That wonderful collection has disappeared now, as has Mistress Nicholas’ wonderful Mazeppa series.  Only here and there do we come upon a cut-paper laid away in some old portfolio or writing desk, or see it hanging, framed, on the wall of some old-fashioned room, and the young ladies of today find it more convenient to send a booklet or a printed card to their friends, instead of the more personal tokens that used to be exchanged in the old days of cut papers. –Katherine Pyle, Salt Lake Herald, 1897

More About Paper Cutting:

• Paper Cutting Traditions: Many links to artists, tutorials, articles, studios etc…
• Visit the paper cutting blog, “Scherenschnitte” by Cindy Bean
• Visit Elsa Mora’s http://elsamora.net