A few simple tablets of lined writing paper, yellowed with age. To me, a vintage treasure, recently given to me by meinem Schwiegervater (my father-in-law). Hubby's dad thought my girls might like to color on the pages, but I snagged four of the five tablets with plans to layer them in art collages or in my sketchbook/art journal. The cover still bears the price fixed by the DDR: -- ,95 D-marks, which is about ,49 Euros or .70 cents. They sat in the back-room workshop of my father-in-law's little east-German jewelry store for 20+ years.
I love the idea of the paper just waiting there--through years of Soviet occupation, through the Fall of the Berlin Wall and the dissolution of the DDR, through the years my husband grew up there before his mom smuggled him and his brother to West Germany, through the year Tobi spent in the U.S. as a 17-year-old foreign exchange student, through the 9 years he continued to live in the U.S. after we met and before he finally returned to Germany with a wife and two little girls.
The paper waited there, forgotten for years. But I like to imagine it waited with a patient anticipation, dreaming of being re-discovered one day and loved by this little American girl who would turn the pages into art.