We found these frames at a yard sale and haggled them down to $10 each. Let’s call them our twig & berries.
The tall, narrow shape immediately felt perfect for flanking our bed, placed above the glass-based lamps on our temporary side tables (they’re too small and lack drawers) in this unfinished corner of the master bedroom:
We planned to replace the art—these were prints of Alaskan berries and wildflowers (a nod to where we honeymooned)—but they read a little too grandma for our taste.
Still, we loved the long rectangular frames, so we hung them to get a feel for the scale. Ignore the empty wall space for now—we’re slowly furnishing this cavernous room. Once we replace the side tables we may adjust the art’s placement, either moving them farther from the bed or raising them higher depending on the new pieces.
While the shape was right, the warm wood tones clashed with darker thrifted wood accessories and the darker pieces around the bed—like the candle holders, the leaning mirror, and the leather chair in the corner.
…plus the mirror and the leather chair:
We realize sleeping under a giant resin ram head isn’t everyone’s ideal decor choice, but it’s ours. Funny enough, the possibly-too-small art that we debated removing has actually grown on us and stayed up.
Then I did something out of character: I spray painted the frames oil-rubbed-bronze. We tend to favor white frames—most of our frames are white in both this house and our last one—so choosing dark frames was a little unexpected for me.
Two quick notes from the spray-painting session:
- The glass was so tightly fitted that I didn’t want to risk breaking it by removing it, so I covered it with newspaper before painting.
- I propped each frame on a rock so the sides wouldn’t stick to the drop cloth and peel when I picked them up.
I also removed the mats and spray painted them white for a cleaner, more graphic look.
Here’s one of the more ridiculous photos from the day:
As a practical spray-painting trick, I wear dark dress socks so I don’t worry about drips on my shoes or tracking paint into the house. Works like a charm.
A few minutes after that I and John exchanged “crazy eyes,” meaning we were both entertaining new ideas.
John: “What if we put those old botanical-looking prints back into these now that the mat and frame are updated?”
Sherry: “To be sure we’re over them—yes, let’s try it.”
We hung them back up and loved the updated look. The prints still have a vintage vibe, but the dark frames and white mats made them feel fresh and purposeful—something you could imagine in a design magazine, even if they only cost $10 each. Mostly, they make us smile.
Art is subjective, and we know not everyone will agree on a resin ram or botanical prints over a bed. But we’re happy with our twig-and-berry pairing. It’s our bedroom—we don’t entertain here—so it only has to work for us.
We got a kick out of placing the berries on John’s side and the flowers on mine—gendered decor tropes aside, it felt playful and fitting.
Then something unexpected: John vetoed the leafy duvet cover we ordered months ago.
When we bought the duvet it felt like a reasonable compromise—he agreed on the condition that it could be replaced if one of us changed our mind. He didn’t expect to change his vote so soon, but the new framed art and the leafy duvet were visually competing. In the end we stripped the patterned cover off and put our simple white IKEA duvet insert back on to assess the look.
The white insert was more compatible with the updated art, but it didn’t feel like the final answer. We’re now hunting for a duvet cover with subtle texture—a soft chevron, crosshatch, or light stripe—something less bold than the old leafy pattern. We’ll check HomeGoods, TJ Maxx, and maybe make another trip to Ikea.
The takeaway: don’t feel pressured to settle. If something doesn’t feel quite right, wait until you find a piece you both love. The Alaska prints felt like the right fit for us, and the small, inexpensive frames ended up leading to a bigger change in the bedroom.
We’re considering selling the old duvet cover—there are similar listings online for more than we paid—so we might recoup some of the cost. Meanwhile, the kids approved: Clara toddled in and gave the new art two thumbs up (she loves that gesture), and Burger offered a sideways paw—he’s definitely an art snob.
Anyone else ever have a surprising but ultimately welcome veto from their partner? Or a spray-painting ritual involving black socks? We suspect not, but we’re amused either way.
