That’s what Clara said when she woke up and saw our newly hung piece of real art in the kitchen. It was adorable — we laughed, then she squealed, “She’s swimming! Look, fishies!” (there aren’t any actual fish in the piece, but Clara’s imagination is delightful). So hooray for imaginary fishies.
I call this “real art” because it’s our first significant art purchase. It’s a large archival print of an original oil painting by an Etsy artist we couldn’t stop thinking about. At $195 it felt like a splurge for us — we usually frame pieces we make ourselves or hunt thrift stores and garage sales for inexpensive finds — but we’d saved money in many other areas of the kitchen (we reused existing cabinets, kept the sink and faucet, sourced pendant lights and a range hood secondhand, resold old appliances and materials, built our own fridge surround and open shelving, installed clearance tile and cork ourselves, and chose budget-friendly stools). That made it easier to justify treating ourselves to something we truly loved.
After a little rationalizing — “you’ve saved everywhere else, you love this, and you don’t have any real art yet — just do it” — we took the plunge. It feels great. No regrets. Just love.
We’re calling it our Valentine’s gift to each other (and to our kitchen). Clara’s excitement made it even sweeter. Burger hasn’t noticed yet — we’ll report back.
Doesn’t our swimmer look especially cheerful next to two leftover pink tulips from recent shoots? (Yes, the book shoots are still happening — they wrap this Friday and today we’re actually shooting cover material.) As for framing, someday we might pay for professional framing, but for now we balanced splurging on the art by saving on the frame. We framed it ourselves for about $25: a simple black frame from Target for $21 and a sheet of archival mat board from Michael’s for $4.
We already had white Rust-Oleum Universal spray paint (the kind with built-in primer), so I spray-painted the frame after removing the pane and backing, laid it out on cardboard, and painted outside. Then I trimmed the archival mat board to fit the frame and centered the print in front of it.
Unlike professional framing, the mat isn’t a cut-out window — the print floats in front of the mat with an even border around it, which helps the piece fill the frame. A happy accident: the mat board has subtle gray undertones while the print and frame are bright white. That contrast creates balance — the gray relates to other soft gray elements in the room (penny tile, appliances), while the bright whites echo the molding, countertops, and dishes on the open shelves.
The print is on archival paper and uses archival mat board, so it can always be upgraded with proper framing later. For now it fits the room beautifully — refreshing, like a tall glass of lemonade or a dip in the pool. This DIY mat-and-frame approach is how we display a lot of pieces (for example, items in our hallway of frames), so while it isn’t the fanciest method it works for us. Art is personal, though, so use whatever method makes your home feel good.
Real art is addictive. Our little swimmer proves that a wall splurge can make you genuinely giddy. We hope saving up for pieces we love turns into a recurring habit. What have you been framing lately? Do you have a favorite framing method? Do your children spot imaginary fish? Let’s chat.