Center of the Universe
While helping drive the RV for the Rob Jones Journey (more on that coming soon, but if you're curious, Google it), the reality of my situation started to sink in.
'When I get off this trip and with winter coming, where the hell am I going to live?,' I thought.
Since March (2017) I'd been bouncing between crashing with friends, in the truck (Goldie, my 2000 Toyota Tacoma), at my parents house or out on jobs. While the roaming lifestyle is exactly what this buffalo needs, I also need a place of refuge; a place for when the chill wind blows; a place that I can call my own.
The universe acts in mysterious ways and as the Journey started down the home stretch, the question of where to rest my head occupied more and more space in there. I love my parents, but no, not even remotely an option. Love my friends, but couch crashing gets old. I could work constantly, but 'work to live' so another no. Crashing more in the truck was a possibility, but the set-up in Goldie was more for utilitarian uses and not living (I want to LIVE!). Renting a room would provide shelter, but work can leave me gone for weeks and weeks at a time. Why waste money on a place I might see one week a month...?
What to do, what to do?
As if on cosmic cue, one sunny day in Phoenix (as Rob ran marathon 20-something) I received a text from Ol' Boots.
"Hey dude, I'm selling the Mothership. First dibs go to you."
The Mothership. Ol' Boots' home for the last 18 months and literally the COOLEST home on wheels. I had hung out in it plenty of times as Boots and Bashie dirtbagged around the states and it always felt like a second home.
Thoughts of what I could do with the space filled my head. I have a certain knack for listening to my intuition, my gut, and I knew instantly that The Mothership would be mine. Call it destiny. Call it probability. Either way, The Mothership is a vehicle for transition and as I entered a new phase of my life, she was/is the one for me.
Boots filled her to the brim with toys and trinkets from his travels. Bikes, fishing rods, climbing gear, weaponry...all somehow stuffed into a very small space. The man can pack and as he moved all of his stuff out, the reality of what I wanted to do with The Mothership crystallized. Blank walls= Blank canvas. The Mothership was Boots' adventure mobile and for me it would become my mobile art studio. The refuge I sought. The place where I could go to be completely myself and allow my creative process to be free.
I've been in her for a month now and when inner vision becomes a reality, amazing things happen...
