Paper, Paper, Paper

I don't know if it's possible to be a stationer and not be obsessed with paper.  I can understand the color but what is it about the texture, the weight, the feel?  It's so visceral.  I opened some old boxes recently and found tons of old papers that I clearly could not bare to throw away at the time.  By now, these long strips, which were lovingly placed in this small box, had accepted their warped position.  I took out the clump and thought, "what an idiot, why didn't i store this flat?"  But moved past this immediately when I saw the entire mass bounce like a freshly curled lock of hair.  I loved the shapes the paper took, forced by time to hold it's confined position.