Another of Francisco Toledo's projects (Ref: my post on his organic market) for preserving and enhancing arts and crafts in his native Oaxaca is a workshop for making handmade paper. To house the project, he bought and refurbished an old hydroelectric plant.

Located in a beautiful mountain jungle setting, the plant is ideal for water-intensive paper making processes. Below are a couple of large tanks in which maguey or other natural materials are soaked to begin extracting fiber from leaves.

Paper making equipment looks crude to my rich-country eyes. The stove is used to boil dyes and binders.

José, the head paper-maker, demonstrates a guillotine used for cutting long fibers into workable lengths.

Only materials found in nature are used. The jars on the left contain roots, bark, dried flowers and minerals, used as colorants or inclusions in decorative papers.

The bucket contains sliced pads of nopal cactus (prickly pear), being soaked to extract a subtle dye.

Fibers are soaked to soften them and then put into this machine, which José describes as an industrial-strength blender.

Dyes and binders are added to the pulp...

... which is then scooped onto a hand-held screen that holds a thin layer in place while water drains off.

The layer of pulp is inverted onto a worktable and a sheet of felt laid and pressed on top to absorb more water. Fine paper is pressed in a large old-fashioned screw press. Special papers are patted out by hand; designs are pressed into some, inclusions like mica or flowers into others.

Sheaves of finished paper are displayed for sale in a sort of showroom. I don't think the place meets its expenses through sales.

Objects made from paper are also for sale; here, kites.

The next two photos show gift boxes; the ones on top closed, the one below open.

Most intriguing is paper jewelry. Who would have thought of something like this?

Francisco Toledo is an artist. He's not interested in the business aspects of an enterprise like the paper factory, and it shows. The place survives through his patronage—a venue for artists and children learning art, and a place for the lucky few who find out about it to spend an interesting afternoon.

What will become of it when Francisco is gone?