

Framing
When you purchase a painting from me, a custom frame is included in the price. I take great care in the framing process, ensuring it complements your artwork in the best way possible. My goal is to make the experience as seamless and easy as possible for you. Please feel free to reach out if you have any questions or would like to discuss anything further.
My Framing Philosophy
Framing isn’t an afterthought for me, it’s an integral piece of the artwork as a whole. Each frame is made by hand, shaped from timber I’ve chosen for its warmth, grain, and character. I mostly use Tasmanian oak to build floating frames that feel quiet and modern, simple and honest, designed to let the painting breathe. But under that simplicity is something deeper.
I used to chase a flawless finish, sanding back every little mark. Now I let the process show, tool marks, small imperfections, glue lines, the irregularities in the wood itself. These aren’t oversights. They’re part of the story, the wood's journey. I’ve come to really value the wabi-sabi approach, the idea that beauty lies in imperfection, in the marks left by time and process. It’s the same way I paint: responding to the moment, letting each brushstroke stand.
There’s also a tension in the making that I like to sit with. A mitred corner, a clean chamfer, these are moments of control and structure. But the rawness of the timber, the subtle mess in the finish, that’s something looser, more instinctive. Like Nietzsche wrote in The Birth of Tragedy, there’s real power in the meeting of those two forces: order and chaos. That’s what I’m aiming for. Each frame is made for a specific painting, in a specific moment, and it holds that balance, form and feeling, clarity and emotion.
The Framing Process
Take a look at my framing process below.
While framing isn’t my primary trade, I’ve honed my craft through private tutorials with master woodworkers and professional furniture restorers—along with plenty of trial and error. It’s been a rewarding journey, and I’m always eager to refine and improve my methods. I’ve long admired framers, and through my own hands-on experience, I’ve developed an even deeper appreciation for their skill and craftsmanship.









Select the wood
Each frame starts with the wood. I look for grain with character, something that feels like it belongs beside the painting without trying to outshine it. Every piece is hand-selected, often planed and milled myself, so the timber suits the mood and story of the work it’s made to hold.
Select the wood
My three favourite woods to work with—shown left to right—are Tasmanian Oak, Californian Red Oak, and Western Red Cedar.
I admire the quiet strength and character of Tasmanian Oak—it always reminds me of Tasmania. I’ve got a soft spot for the cedar. I love the aroma, but I also appreciate how fragile it is. It marks easily, and those blemishes often bring out a kind of quiet character that fits perfectly with the way I like to approach framing (and painting).
Construct the frame
I use a mix of tools—from the table saw to a wood guillotine—to cut the mitres and build the backbone of the frame.
Sand the wood
I usually sand to around 180 grit. If I go much finer, I find the oil doesn’t absorb as well—it can end up sitting on the surface instead of soaking in, which leads to an uneven finish. That said, for surface finishes like shellac, which don’t penetrate the wood like linseed oil, a finer sanding—up to 220 or even 320 grit—can be better. It helps give a smoother, more polished look.
Add the Chamfer
I hand-plane a chamfered edge (bevel) along the inner lip of the frame. It’s a small detail, but one that means a lot to me—a quiet nod to the 9 by 5 Exhibition, held at the Buxton Galleries on Swanston Street in Melbourne, back in 1889. The Australian Heidelberg painters first framed their bold little plein air panels with similar handmade bevels.
It’s my way of honouring their spirit while creating something that still feels entirely my own.
Prepare the finish
For my aesthetic, it’s about celebrating the raw beauty of the wood—keeping things simple with natural products like linseed oil, shellac, and wax, or a blend of the three.
I like to prepare my own linseed oil. Sometimes I press the seeds myself using my Piteba manual press; other times I’ll buy organic cold-pressed flaxseed oil from the health food store and refine it using either Pacheco’s method (lavender and alcohol) or Eastlake’s (sand, water, and salt). After that, I expose the oil to air and sunlight for varying periods to adjust the consistency, gloss, and drying time. I might also heat the oil to 150°C—sometimes with oxygen, sometimes without—depending on what I’m after. I make shellac from fresh flakes, always making sure it’s dewaxed. For wax, I use a high-quality commercial blend.
Apply the Finish
I prefer to apply very thin layers. I use a lint-free rag to apply linseed oil, wiping off the excess, and add as many layers as necessary. Shellac is applied with a badger brush, followed by a wax finish that I wipe off and polish with a lint-free rag. The finish often brings out imperfections, and if a blemish stands out too much, I’ll sand it down and reapply the finish. However, if I feel the imperfection adds character to the painting, it stays.
Mount the Painting
When mounting the painting, I use a range of techniques tailored to the size, depth, and unique requirements of each piece. This ensures the painting doesn’t touch the frame, creating that signature "floating" effect. My approach strikes a balance between efficiency and preserving the integrity of the artwork, providing solid support and protection while ensuring the piece is display-ready.
Stamp the back of the painting
I stamp the back of each painting with my monogram using an ink that sticks well to the acrylic-primed gesso. For the back of the frame, I use a water-based ink on the archival tape. One mark for the painting, one for the frame.









Select the wood
Each frame starts with the wood. I look for grain with character, something that feels like it belongs beside the painting without trying to outshine it. Every piece is hand-selected, often planed and milled myself, so the timber suits the mood and story of the work it’s made to hold.
Select the wood
My three favourite woods to work with—shown left to right—are Tasmanian Oak, Californian Red Oak, and Western Red Cedar.
I admire the quiet strength and character of Tasmanian Oak—it always reminds me of Tasmania. I’ve got a soft spot for the cedar. I love the aroma, but I also appreciate how fragile it is. It marks easily, and those blemishes often bring out a kind of quiet character that fits perfectly with the way I like to approach framing (and painting).
Construct the frame
I use a mix of tools—from the table saw to a wood guillotine—to cut the mitres and build the backbone of the frame.
Sand the wood
I usually sand to around 180 grit. If I go much finer, I find the oil doesn’t absorb as well—it can end up sitting on the surface instead of soaking in, which leads to an uneven finish. That said, for surface finishes like shellac, which don’t penetrate the wood like linseed oil, a finer sanding—up to 220 or even 320 grit—can be better. It helps give a smoother, more polished look.
Add the Chamfer
I hand-plane a chamfered edge (bevel) along the inner lip of the frame. It’s a small detail, but one that means a lot to me—a quiet nod to the 9 by 5 Exhibition, held at the Buxton Galleries on Swanston Street in Melbourne, back in 1889. The Australian Heidelberg painters first framed their bold little plein air panels with similar handmade bevels.
It’s my way of honouring their spirit while creating something that still feels entirely my own.
Prepare the finish
For my aesthetic, it’s about celebrating the raw beauty of the wood—keeping things simple with natural products like linseed oil, shellac, and wax, or a blend of the three.
I like to prepare my own linseed oil. Sometimes I press the seeds myself using my Piteba manual press; other times I’ll buy organic cold-pressed flaxseed oil from the health food store and refine it using either Pacheco’s method (lavender and alcohol) or Eastlake’s (sand, water, and salt). After that, I expose the oil to air and sunlight for varying periods to adjust the consistency, gloss, and drying time. I might also heat the oil to 150°C—sometimes with oxygen, sometimes without—depending on what I’m after. I make shellac from fresh flakes, always making sure it’s dewaxed. For wax, I use a high-quality commercial blend.
Apply the Finish
I prefer to apply very thin layers. I use a lint-free rag to apply linseed oil, wiping off the excess, and add as many layers as necessary. Shellac is applied with a badger brush, followed by a wax finish that I wipe off and polish with a lint-free rag. The finish often brings out imperfections, and if a blemish stands out too much, I’ll sand it down and reapply the finish. However, if I feel the imperfection adds character to the painting, it stays.
Mount the Painting
When mounting the painting, I use a range of techniques tailored to the size, depth, and unique requirements of each piece. This ensures the painting doesn’t touch the frame, creating that signature "floating" effect. My approach strikes a balance between efficiency and preserving the integrity of the artwork, providing solid support and protection while ensuring the piece is display-ready.
Stamp the back of the painting
I stamp the back of each painting with my monogram using an ink that sticks well to the acrylic-primed gesso. For the back of the frame, I use a water-based ink on the archival tape. One mark for the painting, one for the frame.
Example: Comparison of Wood Finishes
Timber: Tasmanian Oak
Front: Dewaxed ruby shellac and wax, no oil—clean, warm-toned, with a gentle gloss that highlights the grain.
Middle: Aged linseed oil beneath blonde shellac and wax—richer and slightly glossier, with deeper tone and grain.
Back: Fresh linseed oil with the same topcoat—similar, but with less warmth and sheen.
* It can be challenging to fully appreciate the differences with digital photography. Feel free to reach out for additional examples.

If your frame arrives damaged, please reach out to me as soon as you can. I’ll work with you to find the best solution, whether that’s a repair, replacement, or refund, so you’re happy with your artwork. Please also refer to the Refund Policy.
I usually work with Tasmanian oak, I like its quiet strength, its warmth. I look for grain with a bit of character, something that feels like it belongs next to the painting without drawing too much attention to itself. I also like to work with Western Red Cedar and Californian Red Oak.
I either buy brown flaxseed oil from the health food store and extract linseed oil using my Piteba manual press, or I purchase cold-pressed organic linseed oil. While this oil tends to yellow significantly over time, it can still be used if desired.
To remove impurities and reduce yellowing, I use either Pacheco's method (lavender and alcohol) or Eastlake's method (water, sand, and salt), then expose it to sunlight or air for extended periods—anywhere from days to years. Sometimes, I’ll boil it at 150°C for varying lengths of time, either with or without oxygen.
These variables affect the consistency, gloss, drying times, and yellowing patterns, creating subtle differences that reveal themselves over time. It's all part of the frame's journey, something I really appreciate.
I use dewaxed shellac flakes (blonde, ruby, patina or garnet) to make a 2-pound cut with Industrial Methylated Spirits 100 (100% denatured alcohol, free of water). Once dissolved, I filter it through 100-micron mesh and store it in a dark, airtight glass container in a stable environment. I prefer working with fresh shellac and usually replace it every six months or so.
I tend not to use a synthetic or traditional varnish. Depending on the frame, a typical approach contains either one of or a combination of the following: dewaxed shellac, linseed oil (either raw, boiled, or sun-thickened) and/or wax.
The finishes I use are chosen for both their look and their feel. They bring out the natural character of the timber, the grain, the warmth, the texture, while offering a level of protection from things like dust, moisture, and sunlight. I know they’re not as tough as something like lacquer or polyurethane, but that’s a conscious choice.
A frame isn’t a chair or a table, it’s not going to be knocked around or leaned on every day. It hangs on a wall, quietly doing its job. So I prefer finishes that feel honest and natural. They may be softer, but they’re more than enough for the purpose, and they let the wood breathe, settle, and age gracefully over time.
Yes, my frames are included in the price. I see the frame as part of the artwork, not just a way to present it. It’s all part of creating something special and complete.
In most cases, I prefer to sell my paintings framed, as I design and craft each frame to suit the work, it’s part of how I complete the piece. However, if you have something specific in mind or need it unframed for any reason, feel free to reach out. I’m always happy to chat and see what might work best for you.