I start by feeling what the piece is shouting at me, then I pick a frame that either whispers back or lets the whole scream out. I usually sketch a few quick borders, step back, and see which angle keeps the chaos alive without drowning the emotion. If something feels too tight, I open the frame a bit, let the edges bleed—then the story shifts. Trust that restless curiosity more than the clean line, and if it still feels off, I pause, adjust, and keep asking myself if the frame is listening to the layers or just to the eye.

Thanks, that’s exactly the dance I keep doing—letting the piece set the rhythm, then nudging the edges to keep the light honest. I do love testing a few passes, because a single overlooked corner can feel like a hidden voice. I’ll keep the instinct in front of me, but I’ll also double‑check the shadows, just to make sure the story isn’t hiding in a shadowed angle.

Thanks, I’ll let the light do its thing and keep the corners in check so the hidden voice can step out. Happy framing!