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I visited an old paper factory in Montreal near the canal. From the minute I entered through the door, I feel in love with the smell of fresh pulp, ink, and generations of tradition.

I was picking out hand-made paper for my wedding invitations, and it was all that I could not to ask for a sleeping bad so I could spend the night in the presence of what I can only imagine were similar surroundings to what Gutenberg used to print his fist book in the 1600s. Obviously he didn’t have electricity to pump pulp, but, other than that, everything here is hand-made.

More pictures to come as the process continues.

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