Incidentally, concerning the shower arrangement, I confess my mind still shudders its practiced resistance, imagining 25 arctic feet between my front door and the bathhouse, and yet… Time and again, the air is fresh, rather than cold. The shower is hot, and the open-air ritual surprises again with a decadence and happiness unmatched in prior days of in-house showers. Given my own residual resistance, the wide-eyed shivers of others each time I explain my shower facilities are unsurprising. Some are comforted when I compare it to hot-tubbing in the snow. Some are not. Truth be told, it is quite possible to incorporate shower facilities into a 136-square-foot (or smaller) house, with some sacrifice. If you’re frozen on the threshold, mentally attempting to wrestle sofa, big screen TV and 5-piece bedroom set into such a space, you might begin to appreciate the quandary. It’s a question of priorities. In my case, kitchen facilities, closet space, and moisture concerns trumped in-house bathroom.
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“Wow… you’re a minimalist, aren’t you?” It’s a common response to my tiny home description. Maybe by popular standard, although I don’t think of myself that way. In fact, on observing the perfect simplicity and comfort of fellow tiny dweller, Dee Williams’, 84-square-foot house, I wondered, do I still have too much stuff? There are still things I want or think I need, and the size of my space requires some discernment in determining whether or not to allocate valuable ‘real estate’ to items in question. Sometimes it’s complicated, and I feel a little overly decadent. Then a friend offered some comfort, pointing out that the artistic process is messy and has certain requirements unique to each individual... Oh yeah… The light flickered on. The reason I’d spent the last 10 years ditching the 40-hour work week, fleeing city speed for the Island time, self-employing, building a home… How does this all translate? Well…
In my present perfect world, I need a cabinet (or two) allocated to the flavor palette and the accoutrements of prep and display in order to serve up sensuous dishes in my tiny kitchen. If I want to manipulate bits of metal and stone into fanciful objects, I need a corner for a tiny workbench. Closet space is requisite for a couple of dresses, some bling and a pair of 3-inch heels in which to dance the tango. Additional nooks and crannies are colonized with art, books, guardian spirits and other necessities—trash can, work boots, camping gear, clothing, toiletries… Admittedly, it’s quite a bit of stuff, but stripping down to one’s creative essence (more odiously known as downsizing) is a process. Life is big. It takes the right tools to render it well. Over time, some things serve a purpose and go, or fall away as mere distraction. At present, the riot of things still swirling about my tiny home, compose a work in progress. And it all fits.
See you next week.
The Art of Tiny Living...