There is a quality of patina… that is impossible to describe. The effects of weather, of chairs sliding on the floor, of cracks in the concrete, edges worn by use, stains from the wine bottle, and the worn area on a threshold from thousands of visitors footsteps. I love this quality.
It is often difficult to convince people of this beauty. But this quality took decades to acquire. It can easily be erased with a careless restoration. What is lost is truly the soul of a thing. While a new restoration creates a facsimile of the old structure… all the experiences and acquired character are lost if you rebuild the patinated areas with new. The story of a place is in its flaws. You remember the time that the wine spilled… the day your brother crashed his bike into the wall… and the day your dad scribed your height onto the closet doorjamb writing your name and the date next to the pencil line. Can you imagine painting over all those height marks… from your youth?
Be careful when you restore things. Try your best to notice what is damage… and what is life and history and soul. The difference between an historic design… and a brand new design… is only the character of time that has been imprinted on something. If you eliminate this character of time… you have destroyed the context of the thing.