 Photo - Sketa Oz A weekend filled with glassing, framing, matting with the odd coffee or two, proved to be quite successful this October. Time seems to have got away over the years and catching up on the odd, artistic job that should have and could have been done years ago, was on my list of things to do.
I don’t tend to outsource any of these jobs, as many of you realise; keeping a firm hand on quality control until the very end is important. Especially, if the the job is close to one’s heart and has significant meaning.
I grew up being part of the framing process, when my Dad was alive. He would mat and frame all sorts of things - from greyhound prints to wedding and informal photographic prints that seemed to forever multiply on the workshop bench. As a young kid, there was always something for me to do - glueing or measuring- being careful to line-up all the markings to just right spot.
Dad was a perfectionist and a great teacher, and I guess over the years of me being a great watcher - for all things ‘workshop’, I would like to think I became a great disciple.  Photo - Sketa Oz Dad was a great tinker and could put his hands to just about anything and miraculously, it would be fixed or made into something one would never expect. Yes, it was a great privilege being an observer in my father’s workshop - filled with magic. There was always something to learn from those gnarled, skilled and caring hands.
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