Hello, and welcome. I'm Lisa, and I've been framing pictures on this corner for five years, and before that for eight years at a shop in the city where I learned the trade from a man who had been doing it since the fifties. It's a small shop — the front room is the samples and the counter, the back room is the saw, the mat cutter and the work table — and everything that leaves it, I've had my hands on.

People sometimes apologize when they bring in something "that isn't art." Please don't. A child's drawing, a needlepoint your grandmother made, a photo of the fishing trip, the front page from the day your daughter was born: those are exactly the things worth framing well, because they're the things you can't replace. I take them as seriously as a signed print, and I frame them the same way.

Framing prices depend on the size of the piece and the moulding you pick, so an exact quote has to wait until you're at the counter with the piece and the samples. But nobody likes walking into a shop with no idea, so here's where things start. These are for an 8x10 piece; larger pieces cost more, mostly in proportion.

I'll always give you a firm price before I start, and I'll always show you a cheaper way to do it if there is one. Half the time the cheaper way looks better.

"Conservation" or "archival" framing just means framing the piece so that the frame itself doesn't slowly damage it, and so that everything can be undone later without harm. Ordinary framing materials are made of wood pulp, and wood pulp is acidic; over years the acid moves into the paper and turns it brown and brittle. You've seen it: the old diploma with the tan line around the edge where the mat sat. That's the mat that did it.

Conservation framing means:

• Acid-free (or 100% cotton rag) mats and backing, which won't burn the paper.
• Hinging the piece to the backing with strips of Japanese paper and a wheat starch paste, instead of tape or glue. Hinges hold the piece at the top only, so it can hang freely, and they can be removed with a little water. Tape can't.
• Conservation glass, which filters the ultraviolet light that fades ink, dye and watercolor. Sunlight through a window will fade a photograph in a few years and a watercolor faster; the coating slows that way down. It isn't a miracle — nothing should hang in direct sun — but it's the difference between decades and years.
• A mat or spacer so the glass never touches the art. Photos and pastels stuck to glass are the saddest thing I see.
• A sealed back to keep dust and insects out.

Do you need it? For a poster, a photocopy, or a print you could buy again: no. Save your money for the frame. For an original watercolor, a signed print, an old photograph, a document, a diploma, a piece of needlework, a child's drawing you plan to keep for fifty years: yes. It usually adds $20 to $50 to the job at the sizes most people bring in, and I'll tell you honestly which side of the line your piece is on.

The mat is the border of cardboard between the picture and the frame, and it's where most people freeze up at the counter. Here's what I tell everybody, and you can argue with any of it; it's your wall.

1. When in doubt, white or off-white. An ivory or soft white mat looks good on almost everything and never goes out of style. Bright white can be harsh; pure white on an old photo makes the photo look dirtier than it is. I stock about a dozen whites and we'll lay them next to the piece.
2. Pick a color from the picture, but not the main one. If it's a painting of a red barn, a red mat makes the barn disappear. A gray-green from the grass, or a warm tan from the field, makes the barn pop. Hold a sample up next to the art, not on top of it, and squint.
3. Wider is better than you think. A skinny mat looks like an afterthought. For an 8x10, two and a half to three inches on the sides is about right; for a big piece, more. And the mat should be wider than the frame moulding, or the two fight.
4. Try a double mat. Two mats, the inner one showing as a thin line (a quarter inch or so) around the picture. The outer mat is the quiet color; the thin inner one is where the accent color goes. It costs a few dollars more and it's what makes "framed" look "professionally framed."
5. A little extra on the bottom. Old framers cut the bottom border of the mat a bit wider than the top and sides, because a picture hung at eye level looks like it's sliding down otherwise. It's subtle. Once you've seen it you can't not see it.
6. Ignore the room. Frame the picture, not the couch. Couches change.
7. Bring the picture. I can't help you choose a mat over the phone, and neither can anybody. It takes about ten minutes at the counter and I promise not to rush you.

Prints, posters and photographs of every size. Original paintings on canvas (stretched and framed, or just framed; no glass on oils). Watercolors and pastels. Diplomas and certificates. Needlework and quilts. Jerseys and baseball cards and shadow boxes for medals, keys, christening gowns, a wedding invitation with the dried flowers — anything that has a depth to it goes in a shadow box. Mirrors. Puzzles, if you glue them first and I'll show you how. Objects that have made me stop and think this year: a child's first pair of shoes, a set of old skeleton keys, a 1940s sheet-music cover, a hand-drawn map of somebody's grandfather's farm, and a grandmother's rolling pin, which came out beautifully.

I also do canvas stretching for painters (several local artists bring their work here before shows), plain glass and mat cutting to size if you've got your own frame, and ready-made frames off the shelf for the quick job.

Custom framing: about seven to ten working days. Moulding is ordered in lengths and comes in twice a week, and I cut, join, mat and fit in the order jobs come in. I'll give you a date when you drop off, and I'll call when it's ready.

Rush jobs: three working days, 25% extra, if I have the moulding in stock or can get it. I can usually do it. Please don't rush a needlework; it needs the time.

Mat cutting and re-glassing: usually while you wait or the same day, if I'm not up to my elbows in something.

Christmas: the last day I can promise a custom job by December 24 is Friday, December 10. After that I'll do my best, and my best is usually pretty good, but I can't promise. Which brings me back to the fall special.