With the holidays upon us, the practice of building vs. buying offers a gentle invitation to move more slowly and intentionally, affording us the ability to give thoughtfully and generously to our neighbors and friends.

 

In the early years of our marriage, my husband and I set out to build or make many of the gifts we gave, mostly due to budgetary restrictions. However, in the process, we discovered we deeply appreciated the way this practice shaped our season as a whole. We realized we loved giving gifts that felt more meaningful because of the time and intention we poured into them. We found this to be a creative outlet for hospitality—freely offering what we have to make others feel valued and cared for.

 

As followers of Jesus, we are image-bearers of a God who is endlessly creative, and in the process of building and making, we get to experience the joy of co-creating with Him, adding our own contributions of order and beauty to the world. This can take shape through many different mediums: woodworking, gardening, preserving, fiber arts, painting, baking, writing, and countless others. Every unique gift created and offered is also an echo of the creativity and generosity of our Maker.

 

Building vs. buying also allows us an opportunity to practice generosity with both our time and resources. Planning, designing, and creating a gift requires that we carve out the minutes or hours necessary for preparation and execution, and though it is not visible, this offering of time is such a significant part of the gift itself. In a season when time is such a precious commodity, what if we were more lavish in how we give it away? Instead of rushing in and out of stores to get all the deals and bargains, or clicking “add to cart” online, what if we moved a little slower, making gifts that tell a story of generosity and care, even in the preparation? 

 

Building and making is a way that we can move counter-culturally against the tide of consumerism and over-spending, offering a pace that is gentler on our souls and more intentional toward loving our neighbors. It provides one of the most accessible avenues for an introduction or reconnection to the people who are right around us. Building and making is an invitation to practice a humble, generous, and intentional holiday season.

Practice

1. Keep it simple. The aim is love, not grandiosity or perfection. Select an idea that is realistic—one that you can enjoy and accomplish with confidence. (Some simple gifts we’ve made: homemade ice cream, candle holders, dish scrubbies, picture frames, simmering bags.)

   
   

2. Make time. Set aside blocks on your calendar to avoid feeling rushed or resentful.

   
   

3. Move slow. Settle into and enjoy the process; consider offering quiet prayers for the recipients as you go .

   
   

The frame shop is a sacred place. It is where art and memory are connected through the craftsmanship of mounting and framing. A frame shop is where the stories of who we are, what we’ve experienced, and what we value are curated into invaluable objects to be vulnerably displayed in our offices and homes. A frame shop is a place of beauty and legacy.    

 

Anthology Fine Art  is owned and operated by Zach and Kendra Custer.  “All I ever wanted was to own a small business,”  said Kendra. She first became involved with framing as a young artist, bringing her photographs to a frame shop where she worked part-time. Zach knew he wanted to pursue an occupation that was in proximity to art and artists. Custom framing revealed itself as a unique fit. He shared his vocational journey:  “As I developed my skills and understood what it takes to do this job, I began to realize that maybe my path in life isn't to be an artist, but to be an art facilitator.”  Zach provides a beautiful insight into the name of the frame shop:  “Everyone collects something. What you find important you put up on your wall. That is an anthology. An anthology is a collection that tells a story.”

 

Zach and Kendra opened Anthology Fine Art in the Art District on Santa Fe in 2010. They relocated the shop to Englewood in 2016. The frame shop has woven itself into the fabric of the family-owned and operated businesses in Englewood. Kendra remarks humbly and honestly about the value of their shop:  “The question is always, if your business were to close tomorrow, would anyone miss you? Yes. Our clients would miss us.”  Zach shares about the vulnerable conversations that occur over the framing counter: “ We get to know people and spend a couple of weeks with something that is deeply important to them.”  The pieces that are carefully framed are windows into the souls of their clients. Kendra’s heart for both craftsmanship and community is apparent:  “We want everything to leave better than when it was brought in, and we want every person to leave better than when they walked in.”

 

“I think that art is sacred, whether it's family photos or a piece of art that you fell in love with. As human beings, we have this ability to create beauty. When we put them on our wall, it becomes part of who we are,”  Zach shares with a calm clarity about how the art we create and what we frame on our walls forms us. What we display is an act of vulnerability.  “It's part of our character. It's part of how the world perceives us. This is who I am,” s ays Zach about what we hang on our walls. It is that act of creativity and vulnerability which invites connection.

 

One of Kendra's favorite aspects of the work is creating family gallery walls, assembling a complete visual anthology of someone's life. A client they have framed hundreds of art pieces for shared that her gallery wall was her favorite wall in the house.  “They framed personal, not professional, family photos and preserved all these personal artifacts in a way that made them incredibly valuable.”

 

Custom framing is an investment. It is the opposite of fast fashion home décor. Zach and Kendra have more and more clients inheriting art or historic photographs from parents or grandparents. The pieces may have been well-preserved, but with updated mounting and framing, they are transformed into an heirloom investment that will last another two generations. 

 

Kendra shares a surprising statistic about their industry:  “Less than 5% of the population has professionally framed something.”  She offers a sincere invitation to make a meaningful investment:  “There is something you've been carrying around from house to house in a box—a poster, a child's artwork, a grandparent's keepsake—wouldn't it be amazing to see it every day?”  She shares something few businesses can say:  “There's never been a piece I've framed that a client has regretted.” 

 

A frame shop is a place that carefully and creatively encourages you to share your story, showing aspects of who you truly are. It is curating the anthology of your life. A frame shop is a sacred place.

Thank you to Zach and Kendra Custer for the inspiring conversation and contribution to this article.