What's in a frame?

One of the most onerous, time-consuming, frustrating and unsatisfying aspects of the do-it-yourself artist's responsibilities is framing the work. Especially if you're 73. I know I've lost some strength, skill, desire for perfection, when it comes to making those "simple" gallery frames. And yet.

I'm in a time warp/financial bind when it comes to framing. In the 60's, you threw some lath around the edges of your canvas and you were done. On some of my larger pieces, I nail 1 x 2, either painted or stained, to the stretcher bars. My favorite was the 1 3/8 x 3/8 stop with one rounded edge that you could "gild," which I only found at National Lumber in Baltimore. Cheap, elegant, okay. Nowadays, you can't even buy gold paint in a can--it has to be sprayed (which I'm even worse at than measuring!). Mitered corners are a must, even when your chop saw is incapable of an even cut.

So for the last two days, I've sat on the steps of my front porch, between showers, hail storms, thunder and lightning, with my chop saw and some 1 x 2 that I (1) stained dark; (2) sprayed with something called "Satin Nickel," and did my best to cut and nail these poor excuses to my precious paintings. Shaving sixteenths of an inch, cursing, pulling bent nails (and leaving some others!), poking holes in my skin and scaring the cats with my reactions, I managed to "frame" eight paintings.

In a way, this exercise is a kind of anti-hubris charm. In another way, I DO NOT LIKE frames that are "bigger and better" than the work they surround. I am not a Renaissance painter, I'm certainly not Thomas Kincaid, I cannot afford even $200 or $300 for a frame around a painting that might sell for $500--or never sell. I do my best to finish the work to a displayable form, but if the frame is what interests or repels you, Uhhhh.

This post says more about me than about my art. But what a couple of days....Do you think my paintings would look better if someone else cursed over them in the framing stage?

A painting in progress. My poinsettia finally yielded a few perfectly curled leaves--and they were green! I collected them and the rest of what had fallen off my neglected plant and fell in love with the colors.That red is Tompte Red, with a little alizarin crimson. The amazingly delicate undersides of petals, pinkish, greenish, pale--a flesh for poetry. The dark, dry purples of the deadest leaves are little exclamations, and the whole writhes and thrusts as never in real life. Everything is roughly blocked in. The wonderful thing is that I can see this painting finished--all those sexy little details that will lend emphasis and clarity. The danger is that maybe now I won't have to finish it?

One of the forgiving benefits of working on the wall is that scale can be adjusted. This canvas started out about 44 x 34, but I had to shave some inches from the top in order for the proportions to please. Might lose an inch or two on the sides as well. This is what I think about when I'm working, and, of course, whether stretcher bars come in the size I need. Do you know that 26" stretcher bars are scarcer than hens" teeth? That is an art-i-fact.