#241 – Getting Something Framed

roger-rabbitMore often than not, I’ve enthusiastically uttered the phrase “I’m going to frame this!” about that sports thing or this photo. And, more often than not, nothing comes of it. I wind up forgetting or deciding not to even waste the time or money on it. Most of the things I own that are framed were given to me that way.

With that in mind, here’s a story for you. A few years ago, I bought art. That’s a big deal for me, for two reasons: 1) it’s something other than an unframed movie poster to put on my wall and 2) it’s fucking art. You know, the shit grownups buy to put on their wall (read: things men buy when they start living with women and this sort of stuff inexplicably starts to matter).

Now, I should clarify.. the “art” in question here isn’t a painting or something abstract. After all, I am the one who bought it, so it had to have a little of me in it. But still it wasn’t until it arrived from Australia that I even considered the idea of framing it.

Of course, the prints I received weren’t traditionally sized and so it wouldn’t be a simple buy-it-off-the-rack job. No, no. I’d have to take it to a framing place.

Here’s two things I discovered upon visiting a few of these stores:

  1. It was going to cost me way (way, way) more to frame the items than it did to purchase them and have them shipped literally from the other side of the fucking planet. I was, and continue to be, at a loss for how something like this isn’t talked about more often. The person creating the art charges less than the person putting a wood square around it. I mean…
  2. Just like any other business, they will try to up-sell the shit out of you. One store actually offered me some sort of protective glare thing for the glass on the frame. I calmly explained that I intended to display the artwork on the inside of my apartment and promptly walked out.

So, like any disgruntled framer–or woman looking to get her craft-game on–I headed to Michael’s. I got me a nice black, normal frame (still too expensive) and picked it up a week or so later.

It felt generally ridiculous, the rigamarole and cost that went into it. But, hanging it on the wall as opposed to taping it? Well, that felt (sad as it is to say) shamelessly satisfying.

Polar Opposite of this Feeling?: The annoying feeling of asking someone, anyone, over and over… how does this look… here? Better here? No. No… Here. Is it straight? It’s even? You’re sure?

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