I’ve been traveling and searching relentlessly since my first trip abroad at age 11 in 1992. My travels took me many times across the U.S., dropped me on the West Coast, and from Ecuador to Nicaragua to Myanmar to India and many places and trips in between. A feeling started creeping in slowly over the course of my 20’s, but around 28 or so (in 2009) I started to be increasingly aware that while traveling was tremendously beneficial and productive for me in so many ways, I was left sorely wanting for a place of my own to store all of my gear (and my sometimes-weary self) in between trips that wasn’t a friend’s garage or a paid storage unit. I also felt a lack of place and belonging in my personal life, as I was always in the position of Outsider and I never stayed anywhere long enough to sink roots. This was symptomatic mostly of my psychology, but also of being homeless.
In 2010 I started reading about Tiny Houses, I’m not sure where or who from. I evaluated all sorts of on-the-cheap living structures – from Amish-built sheds to Mongolian yurts. The more I thought about Tiny Houses, the more sense they made for my purposes. After moving home in the summer of 2011, I had a conversation with a dear old friend about needing a big goal in my life. So I decided to commit to the process of creating a house on wheels. I approach this project not just as a commitment to building a home and learning new skills, but to developing a deeper sense of place and community no matter where I park my little house. I reckon this is all quite in line with the fact of aging and the art of living. I bought the plans just before my 30th birthday and off I go on this crazy adventure. Read about it here!