“We have a longstanding love affair with Maine,” Mindi Poston Gay says. When she and her husband and business partner in MPG Home Design, Phineas Gay, first started dating back in 1999, Phin whisked her up north from Boston for a coastal adventure. “We went on a schooner in Camden Harbor, which turned out to be a test to see how I felt about Maine,” Mindi recalls, noting that her husband has deep roots in the state, while she hails from Miami. “It sealed the deal on both sides; I fell in love with Phin and Maine that weekend.”
The couple, who live in Newburyport, Massachusetts, with two sons, ages 17 and 19, rented a beach house in Lincolnville for years. The long-term plan was for Mindi, who is an architect and designer, and Phin, who runs the operations side of the firm, to build their own home there; it was just a matter of finding the right property. In 2015 they spotted a “for sale” sign while on a motorcycle ride, turned down the gravel road, and got to talking to the owner. Discovering they had much in common, including a deep respect for the land, the Gays purchased just under three-and-a-half acres from him along Penobscot Bay.
“That kinship translated to his comfort in splitting the land,” Phin says. “We assured him and his sister’s family, who are also neighbors, that our vision was for a minimalist design that would blend with nature; we would definitely not be building a McMansion.”
In 2016 the family built a 1,000-square-foot studio that Mindi designed. The shed roof structure has shou sugi ban siding, four glass garage doors, and an open interior. What it doesn’t have is plumbing. “It’s basically a heated garage with a portable sink, composting toilet, gas stove, and four cots we’d roll out,” Mindi shares. “We happily glamped there for several years.”
During that time, Mindi explored design concepts for the home. Seahaus, named for the pair’s mutual appreciation for the sea and for Bauhaus style, was completed in 2023. “It follows Bauhaus design principles: lack of ornamentation, form follows function, less is more,” Mindi ticks off. She also took cues from her Japanese heritage. “I am inspired by the wabi-sabi philosophy of imperfect beauty, things that are weathered and worn,” she says.
Shinrin-yoku is another Japanese influence. Translated as forest bathing, it’s essentially the practice of spending time in nature, appreciating its therapeutic benefits. This idea helped inform where the house is situated. “The structure is set back from the sea, connected via a meandering path through the trees, which allows time for reflection as you make your way to the water,” Mindi explains.
Architecturally, the home plays off the studio located beside it. The home is composed of two purposefully distinct primary forms: the bedroom wing with a shed roof that is the same pitch as the studio’s shed roof, plus the main living space: an open, barn-like form with a gabled roof. A small entry connector joins the two wings and offers a view of the ocean, while a mudroom component comes off the end by the studio.
The couple partnered with Todd Weeks, cofounder of High Seas Builders, to build the 2,100-square-foot home, which exceeds the state’s energy codes. “We sought to boost performance and reduce embodied carbon wherever budget and architectural intent allowed,” Weeks says. “The foundation, walls, and roof R-values are well in excess of code.” In addition, Maine-made triple-paned tilt-and-turn windows and lift-and-slide doors from Pinnacle Window Solutions allow for a greater air seal and a lower U-factor [the insulative value for windows] than double-hung or casement windows and traditional sliders. Weeks also points out that most of the wood used here was cut and milled in Maine. “We were excited about using so many local materials,” he says.
The team also charred the eastern white cedar planks for shou sugi ban details around some of the windows and doors on the exterior. “We lash together three boards with wire to create triangular chimneys and hold them vertically over the fire; the shape draws the fire up,” Weeks says. “We turn them for a few minutes for an even burn, then release the wire, use a brush and water to extinguish the fire and clean the boards, and finally, apply an oil finish.”
There are rustic wood accents inside too; namely, the hemlock ceiling in the airy living space, which reaches 18 feet high at the ridgeline. The knotty planks add instant coziness and are more cost effective than a drywall ceiling. Plaster walls and a polished, poured concrete floor up the earthy ambiance. “We kept the interior pure, without ornamentation or fussiness,” Mindi says. “The focus is on the beauty of nature right outside.” Indeed, a pair of 12-foot-wide sliders maximizes views to the forest and ocean and provides easy access to the wraparound deck.
On one end of the room, a Stûv woodstove perches on a simple concrete bench where logs nestle underneath. A mash-up of vintage midcentury chairs—a Mies van der Rohe Barcelona loveseat, two slouchy Togo chairs, and a black bentwood chair with black and white cushions—encourage gathering. “Choosing where to sit is like a game of musical chairs!” Mindi says.
For privacy and television, folks can duck into the media room behind the curtains, where a painting of a very sad clown hangs over a scrumptious sectional. “It’s from my childhood home, and yes, I was afraid of it,” Phin laughs. “Now we joke that it’s the feeling we get when we leave Seahaus: a big frown.”
An 11-foot-long live-edge table of the couple’s own creation is the centerpiece of the dining area. The Gays plucked the chrome conference table base from an industrial park dumpster, then asked a friend to source a reclaimed pine top. “We had to drive home to get a larger car to transport it,” Mindi recalls. “I designed the layout of the sliders around this table.”
Self-described foodies who like to cook, the couple opted for industrial elements juxtaposed with warm wood in the kitchen. Commercial-style appliances and stainless-steel counters on partially open white oak cabinetry line the perimeter. In the center, an extra-wide sink graces a black-stained island with a chunky, red elm countertop. “We requested red elm for its brilliant coloration,” Phin says. The cabinetmaker, Weeks’s college roommate Jacob Perkins, butterflied three boards with Nakashima-style joinery.
On the other end of the home, the boys’/guest bedroom boasts a birch sleep loft above a queen bed, and a hemlock ceiling. Pine planks cocoon the primary bedroom, where a built-in wardrobe with oak and leather handles runs along one wall for storage. Above the bed, a paper lantern glows like the full moon at night, imparting a Japanese sensibility.
In the primary bath, the team whitewashed leftover cedar siding for the surround. The area is modeled on ideas from Japanese bathing culture. “A soaking tub by an oversized window where we can experience the smell and sounds of the ocean while bathing was very important,” says Mindi, who brings seaweed indoors for her baths. “Seeing the steam rise on a snowy day reminds me of being in Japan.”
