When we were in Morocco, we bought a door.

Our goal was to paint it and hang in on the wall, but what with one thing and another (moving, stress, in-law visit, stress, etc), we mostly just leaned it against the wall. Everyone who came to visit admired it, and everyone said not to paint it.

You can buy these old doors in the medina. They come in a variety of sizes and ages–in fact, some are modern, just made, sold at high prices to tourists. Others are ancient, weather-beaten and bug-eaten. We opted for the latter.

We put it in the container and when it got to Oregon, we announced our intention to paint it. In the meantime, we leaned it against a wall. Everyone said, “It’s so beautiful. Don’t paint it.”

But we did anyway.

In our defense, Moroccan doors are often painted, and you can see where this one had been painted at some point in its previous life as a door, rather than a wall hanging.

You can see how this is an authentically old door.

It’s less than 4 feet high, but Moroccan doors are often that small. I don’t know why. Moroccans are not an especially short people. This door comes from a village in the mountains, and perhaps doors and windows are kept small to keep as much heat in as possible.

Donn and I had a discussion as to the shade of blue we wanted. We looked at our pictures from various Moroccan towns and argued as to the precise amount of green permissable. Then we went to a Miller Paint store, coincidentally the closest paint store to our house. We started telling the manager about it and he got into it and recommended we try a stain rather than a paint, in order to preserve the details of the wood. (Which reminds me, we promised him a picture of the finished product.)

I think it worked out great, personally.

 

And now we have a door on our wall.

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