When Yamile reached out, she spoke passionately about her kitchen—a space full of memories where she’s created countless meals and moments. She didn’t want a full remodel; she wanted to highlight its beauty while letting go of what no longer worked.
The project involved adding doors to unfinished shelves, replacing worn ones, and converting a hinged door into a sliding barn door. As I worked on the door, I discovered layers of paint meant to mimic aged wood, ironic because the door itself was already old wood. Stripping the paint revealed its history—each layer representing a period in the house’s life. This wasn’t just a renovation; it was about giving the kitchen a fresh season while honoring its story. By removing the excess and letting the natural wood shine, we brought new life to a beloved space.
When I first took on this project, I thought it would be a straightforward job—revitalizing a kitchen while preserving its charm. But that perception changed the moment I started working on the door. It had been painted layer upon layer to mimic aged wood, which was ironic because it was already made of beautifully aged pine. As I stripped away the paint, I realized that each layer told a story, like the rings of a tree marking different seasons in the house’s life. This project wasn’t just about fixing a door—it was about revealing history and giving the kitchen a new season while honoring the past.
But then, we hit another challenge. To transform this old beauty into a sliding barn door, it needed to be slightly larger—like resizing a digital file. That’s when Yami’s husband (his official title, though sometimes subtitled Gaia’s Dad) casually suggested, Why not frame it like a picture? And without thinking for more than two minutes, I said, F* it, that sounds awesome.**
So I built a three-layer frame—two layers of maple and one of cherry—surrounding that old pine. It was way more work than I anticipated, but the result was worth it. Then came another hurdle: the color. The cherry needed to darken while the maple stayed light, but stain bleeds, so painter’s tape wasn’t an option. That’s when I channeled my inside-the-lines skills from pre-K, grabbed an old brush, and carefully hand-painted that cherry with patience and precision.
To tie it all together, I cooked up a rich, chocolatey-smelling hard wax paste that spread like butter. And now, after all the hours and detail that went into this door, I might be getting a little too attached. But hey, when a project surprises you and turns out better than expected, it’s hard not to.
