You may be wondering right now, what exactly is so special about origami paper cranes. Well to begin with, the crane - a large long legged, long necked bird - has been a very dominate symbol in ancient culture for centuries, including that of China, Japan, Korea, Arabia and even Greece. In the Japanese culture, the bird symbolizes peace, happiness and recovery. This is similar to the Chinese and Korean culture, where the crane is a symbol of longevity - long life - and purity. For the Ancient Greek and Roman, the crane symbolized joy and love. In short, the crane is a celebration of life. Much like a paper crane.
I've been making paper cranes since elementary school, ever since I read Sadako and the Thousand Paper Cranes by Eleanor Coerr. I photocopied the instruction from the back of the book on how to make an origami paper crane and spent weeks figuring out how to read the very confusing folding techniques. Once I finally successfully folded a rather crumpled, pathetic looking crane, I just couldn't stop. It's really quite addicting. I'd fold cranes with whatever kind of paper I could find. I bought all sorts of decorative scrap booking paper and created beautiful cranes to give to my friends and family, and to set around my room and house. I've even made an enormous blue crane I call Karen, out of a large piece of Bristol board I found in my garage. I used to put cranes on everything; birthday presents, table settings, Christmas trees.
So according to the Japanese, if you fold one thousand paper cranes, you are granted a wish. It's usually recovery from an illness or the promise of a long life, but there's nothing wrong with that in my book.
However, in my opinion, a paper crane can mean a lot more. Have any of you ever read the young adult novel Shiver by Maggie Stiefvater? In the book there is this character named Sam who folds paper cranes and then hangs them on the ceiling in his room. To him, since he folded each one at certain moment in his life, the cranes symbolize memories. When he lays down on his bed at night, he can look up at the cranes and browse his fondest memories.
I agree with Sam on this. When I look at a crane that I've made, I can usually remember something specific about when or how I made it. Sometimes the crane makes me happy, sometimes it makes me sad, sometimes it even makes me want to laugh, but whatever the emotion, it is still a memory. And while I've probably only made about two hundred cranes and am nowhere near one thousand, that is what paper cranes are to me - memories. And that is what this blog is about - memories that I want to share with you, moments that I hope never to forget.
