Aug

29

East Meets West, Meets West: Part Two.

Filed Under Life Slice 

JPP Paper Sample Wall

Nancy Jacobi is an extraordinary woman. She is the kind of person that when you meet once you wish to remain in the company of for forever. She is understanding, intelligent, insightful and passionate; liberally offering words of encouragement to those who meet her. In some ways, she is familiar, like an old friend is familiar. There is a kind of ease about Nancy, that is more kind than modest, poetic, but also practical, and overall, genuinely, authentic. Nancy brought all things Japanese to Toronto, and then the world. She is the founder of The Japanese Paper Place.

I met with Nancy at what used to be The Japanese Paper Place’s warehouse; a tall vertical building, with small sign, that’s easy to miss. The Beer Store is next door. At rear is a secluded parking lot and beyond, some snaking train tracks. A fence separates the back delivery exit from the railway, and when I get too close, a flock of black birds launch at once from between the wood and metal rails, rattling up, what was until now, a quiet and peaceful moment. The scene, indeed, is startling. Just minutes away from Queen West’s cool, on a small strip on Brock Avenue, is the unassuming headquarters of The Japanese Paper Place.

Instead of entering through the main entrance, a warehouse employee ushers me in through the side door. The view is dazzling. Papers stand tall like bolts of fabric at a textile store. The aisles are woven with colour.

Wholly, magnificent.

Upstairs, a shop is combined with a resource centre. Binders describe the kind of papers available to order such as, Chiyogamis, Katazome-shis, Itajime, Nepalese and Brazilian Marbles. There are brushes and books for sale. Magnets and bone folders too. Small squares of Shikishi are scattered beside parcels being prepped for a trade show. In the neighboring room, long tables are lined with craft paper. Shelves are stocked with more papers and tools. There are some unusual artworks, made out of paper, which hang against the walls and dangle from the ceiling. In a corner of the room–from behind gauzy, cut-out, paper-quilted curtains–light pours through a window. The sitting area is nearby.

I put my things down and get settled. Nancy joins me. She sits on the edge of an oversized loveseat and begins to tell me the story of her life. TO BE CONTINUED….

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