When I first stumbled upon paper weaving, I wasn’t planning to make a basket. I had seen a few photos online — neatly coiled and woven shapes made entirely of old newspapers — and something about it caught my attention. It looked simple. It looked calm. And it looked like something I could do without buying a bunch of supplies. So one quiet afternoon, I decided to try.
I gathered a pile of newspaper, a knitting needle, some glue, scissors, and clips. That’s all I thought I needed. And in many ways, it was. But as I would soon find out, making a paper basket isn’t just about rolling tubes and stacking them in a circle. It’s a process filled with unexpected learning — both technical and personal.
The first thing I realized was how much patience it requires. Rolling paper tubes might seem repetitive, but it’s also strangely meditative. Each strip of paper needs to be carefully angled, tightly rolled, and sealed with glue. I learned very quickly that rushing through this step made the tubes uneven or too loose. And that unevenness carried through to the rest of the project. So I slowed down. I focused on rolling evenly and consistently. That small adjustment made everything easier later on.
Then came the weaving part — which was both exciting and confusing. Laying out the base of the basket took some trial and error. I had seen people create beautiful round shapes effortlessly, but my first attempt wobbled and twisted. It didn’t look like much. But as I kept weaving the walls upward, something clicked. With each layer, the shape started to stabilize. It didn’t look perfect, but it looked real. Tangible. It was my own handmade structure growing right in front of me.
One of the most important lessons I learned while making my first basket was to let go of perfection. Every time I looked too closely at the uneven lines or the slightly crooked edge, I had to remind myself that this wasn’t about creating a flawless product. It was about learning a craft, using my hands, and working with materials that would otherwise be thrown away. That shift in mindset — from perfection to process — changed the whole experience.
I also discovered how versatile paper can be. It’s strong when rolled. Flexible when damp. Easy to reshape, rewind, or reweave if you make a mistake. That sense of control without pressure made the project enjoyable in a way I hadn’t expected. It made me want to experiment more — with colors, with shapes, with paper types.
After hours of work, and many small adjustments, I finally finished the basket. It was simple. Just a round container with slightly uneven edges and visible glue marks. But to me, it felt like an accomplishment. It was made entirely by hand, from start to finish, using materials I already had. And more than that, it felt like a quiet statement: I took something discarded and gave it purpose.
The experience of making that first basket stayed with me long after it was done. I began to look at newspaper differently. I started saving flyers, rolls, pages — not for recycling, but for creating. The act of crafting had shifted my mindset. It wasn’t just a hobby anymore; it was a form of mindfulness. A break from screens. A small way to care for the environment while caring for myself.
What I learned from making my first paper basket wasn’t just about technique. I learned how to slow down. I learned how to be patient with myself. I learned how to turn mistakes into lessons. And most of all, I learned that creativity doesn’t require a studio, fancy tools, or expensive materials — just the willingness to try, and the freedom to enjoy the process.
If you’ve been thinking about trying paper weaving, I can’t recommend it enough. Start with a basket. Make it crooked. Let it be imperfect. Because the real reward isn’t what you make — it’s what you discover along the way.