Organizing My Space with cardboard boxes and Hanji

 One small but long-delayed item on my to-do list this year was to organize my craft room—not with shiny plastic bins or sleek store-bought containers, but by upcycling what I already had and incorporating hanji. Cardboard boxes had been quietly piling up in the corners of the room, their edges softening, tape peeling, waiting for a second life.

I finally checked that box.  


I started with a beer carton whose built-in dividers made it perfect for sorting fabric scraps. I cut down a larger box to wrap around the outside, imagining it as a skin to apply Jogakbo techniques with Hanji. As I measured and cut, the cardboard made that familiar dry, papery sound, a little resistance giving way under the blade.


Hanji—traditional Korean paper made from mulberry bark—has long been known for its durability, beauty, and surprising strength. When resources were scarce, hanji was never limited to books or windows. It became part of everyday life: storage chests, boxes, trays, cabinets, even clothing. Layered, glued, and lacquered, hanji objects were light yet sturdy, humble yet quietly elegant. Running your fingers over lacquered hanji, you feel both softness and resilience—a surface that remembers the hands that made it. (You can check out pictures of various objects made of Hanji here.)


I’ve long been fascinated by traditional Korean hanji crafts. With the quiet hope of someday making my own furniture and household pieces like this, I brought Hanji back with me from Korea. 

Source: Hanji craft artist Son Ji-min's blog

For my first hanji project, I chose something simple and practical: an organizer for fabric scraps. As I brushed glue onto the cardboard and smoothed the hanji into place, the paper darkened slightly, then settled. Patch by patch, each color emerged—vivid on its own, yet harmonious with the others.


My craft room is now a little tidier. But more importantly, it holds a new piece of storage that embodies a quiet fusion of ancient Korean craft principles and modern eco-consciousness. Every time I reach for a scrap of fabric, I’m reminded that with patience, care, and a bit of imagination, even what we discard can be transformed into something useful, beautiful, and lasting.



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