A more astute person might have narrowed that down, there were only so many reasons to want paper. Journal keeping, sketching--maybe building plans or notes about the canyon. Jude has the means, but little interest. He knows what he can keep in his head, what he can touch with his hands, and--even Sam might relate--what he can sketch the shape of.

Writing down all the confusing parts of this place won't make sense of them. It'll just make him think about it.

"I don't think you stop being one because of where you go," he points out, resolving to get back tot he project once the damage to the house is sorted. Making paper had been something to do, not something he'd thought of as particularly important. But it's been used, and there have been requests since her own. "I was at the institute in Pittsburgh," he admits. "Illustration and graphic design."