Yesterday, I took some of my paintings to get framed.

I have a lot of canvases hanging on my walls–paintings I’ve done since college. Each one is special to me, and each represents a different time in my life.

One, from my first apartment after graduation when I didn’t have furniture or a TV. Another, I remember carrying back and forth to an adult art class in the freezing cold in downtown Baltimore; another, of the California sunset.

I had never thought it necessary to frame canvases, but recently it’s started to bother me. I enjoy my new apartment and I don’t want to hang a canvas from a nail in the wall anymore.

So, I got this wild hair and found a framer downtown. I selected a couple of paintings and carried them on the subway and through the Christmas market.

I met with the shop owner, and I realized framers are special people. He was so patient, bringing out different sizes and colors, making recommendations and not rushing me. He had a great sense of humor too, which is something I rarely run into over here.

I could see how getting a picture framed could be a chore for some people, but I absolutely loved the process.

I also realized it was the first time I had personally framed my artwork. I got to decide exactly how I wanted to showcase my artwork. And it felt really good. It felt like these pieces now had the finishing touches they deserved.

I knew it was going to be expensive; and it was. But I can’t think of another way I’d rather spend my money.

So now I have to wait 10 days before I see the finished paintings. The owner told me a painting is not done until it is in a frame and hanging on the wall, and I thought that was a great way to think about art.

And now I want to frame the rest of my canvases! Which means I won’t be able to afford to go anywhere anymore. So I’ll be forced to stay at home and enjoy my frames!