Framed

In some of my free time (mostly at night after the kid is asleep and I can't do anything loud with the power tools), I still like to dabble in some amateur art just so I don't completely lose the skills that I paid my alma mater to teach me.  After having some of my work framed years ago for some sold pieces, I was shocked by how much it cost to have a painting framed.  At that time and even today, the cost to frame one piece seemed to be as much as I value the actual painting at.  After that initial surprise I made some attempts at cheaper framing with buying whole mat boards, glass, and metal assembly frames which cut the cost by more than half and then I took a long hiatus from making pretty much anything.

From airplanes to wall covering.

Prior to my long hiatus, I did make one frame from scratch when I had easy access to a wonderful wood workshop and a clear goal in mind.  I wanted a frame for one piece that I was working on that was not pre-cut from a factory.  The same wonderful people (thank you Millers!) that had the workshop were also rebuilding a 1927 Stearman Travelair bi-plane and had just ordered a new engine part for it.  The crate that it came in consisted of some perfect wood pieces that I wanted to use and so I drug it home and disassembled the whole thing.  There was some great industrial character to the wood including the metal join pieces which were still sharp enough to give a reminder nick or two about the caution that should be taken with repurposed material.  But they also add to the character of it and now, when I think about the piece, I can't really think of it in another frame.

Caution, sharp!

If you look closely, you can see notches from the
original milling process.

Since that time, I've gone back to work painting again and I've intentionally steared clear of having to buy frames, especially since I have the materials needed readily available.  The materials themselves have often been cheap to free depending on where they've come from and I feel they add much much more character to the pieces than a near perfect, professional frame does.  As with the frames, we are not perfect and the imperfections in us and our work help define who we are.  With one of my later frames, I wanted a more crisp, clean look than the rugged timeworn look that most of my frames tend towards.  For it, I used some leftover 2x2s from my front deck and with the use of a handy router, miter saw, and some leftover mat board, made a decent wood frame with some flaws that are more noticeable upon closer inspection but I love them for it.  They belie the fact that this is not perfect and that material used in the making is reflective of the actual content of the picture.  I considered a pure black at first but then realized some leftover walnut stain that I had would be perfect.  In a double application it made it appear black from faraway but with good soft lighting, the wood grain glows.

After that I made a pair of frames where I wanted their former lives obvious.  For one, I used leftover scraps from the old hardwood floors from our home that we were unable to use when we restored the rest.  The wood was covered in paint and plaster splotches which I left on.  I loved the wood itself for some of the rich grains and also the stains from it's previous life as a front deck but I'm still not sold on the splotches with the painting itself.  They just seem too darn happy for a cloudy Victoria beach.  For the other, I set out on a mission to find some old rough-cut timber just like the joists in our 100+ year old home.  We took a trip the Rebuilding Center and I found some beautiful 2x4 rough cut that even had a square nail head still anchored.  The rich red color of the wood, the tight grains, and the old sawmill marks from the blade worked perfectly with the painting I wanted to frame and I will definitely be coming back to this type of resource again.  To help stabilize the frame I also used some copper strapping on the corners.  I couldn't get a shot that wasn't blurry but I love the look of it as it complements the deep reds of this antique wood and it does a great job of pulling the industrial aspects of the painting into its surrounding as well as keeping the frame together well!

Nails and saw marks are a wonderful thing.

The frame has to look good so folks won't pay attention
to the painting.

 Lastly, after my tinkering with building a cat tower (see my last post), I wanted to continue the use of driftwood in purposeful applications.  It just so happen to fit right in with the painting I was currently working on anyway, so we all took a family bike ride down to the river.  After poking around for a couple hours, I had enough pieces of wood to work with and we headed back.  My original thought was to carve out nice crisp notches to join the sides of the frame together but as I thought of how I would fasten them, I couldn't think of something that looked natural enough for what I wanted.  So I ended up using some notching to keep the corners somewhat centered and then bound them with sisal twine.  Not only was it easier and more natural looking, it enhanced even further the relation of the frame to the painting.


I'm not sure what's next on the horizon but I think it will involve some repurposed metal and wood.  Either way, I'm finding that I truly enjoy crafting the frames nearly as much as the art and I think that they fit better with what I want than anything over the counter.  Finally, as you know the bottom line is always a consideration, the most expensive any of these frames were would be around $70 in materials.  The driftwood frame was about $5 for eye screws and sisal twine (which I already had laying around for gardening).  Probably the best deal you can find, both economically and sustainably, is an already produced frame that matches the size and style you need.  However, that can be like looking for a needle in a haystack so crafting your own may be a great way to go.