I grew up in a little town near Lake Michigan called Muskegon, at one time a big lumbering hub, then a manufacturing center. The lakes provided plenty of good places to dump toxins, see. By the time I was conscious of what was around me, business was dwindling around Muskegon. But there was still a big ol’ paper mill on the south shore of Muskegon Lake. We never cared much for it, because of the odor. You know that paper mill odor? No? Well, it’s pretty pungent, pal. But that was then, this is now, and right now, there’s one paper mill I love: the French Paper Co. of Niles, Michigan.

French has been there since 1871, using hydro-electric power for 85 years. And recycled paper? They’ve been at it since the ’50s, baby. Ahead of the curve, that’s our French.

I love ’em because they’re in Michigan, too. My home state. They’ve stuck around for six generations now. That kind of loyalty to a region and its employees is rate and wonderful, especially in Michigan.

And their paper is beautiful. Rich, think, clean and creamy. The vanilla malt of wood pulp-derived substrates, I tell ya. I’m using their 140-pound art paper for my latest prints and they look just great.

Thanks French! A tip o’ the hat, and keep up the good work!