For five years, my husband and I shared 1,800 square feet of log home with a stunning Alaska mountain backdrop. My sister, visiting from out of state, referred to our home as “Narnia”.
Now, we live full time in a 2022 19 foot-long Airstream Caravel customized for creating and displaying my art. It’s about 75 square feet inside. We sold our house and made the big leap to living in the Airstream in May of 2023. I call this place the Mobile Art Studio because it’s where I create and show art, but in reality this is also functioning as our home.
We made this change for many reasons, but getting right to it: what’s it like here?! No, really – what is the setup for painting, how on earth do I store things, and have Wes (my husband) and I killed each other yet, sharing such a tiny space?!
Here are some anecdotes from daily life in the Airstream, followed by photos.
- We chose the Sonoran Desert as our spot for this winter because there isn’t a hard freeze here. I wake up in the morning at the very first light, excited to see the sun rise over saguaro and in a firy glow on nearby mountains through the wraparound windows at the front of the Airstream where our pull-out bed is situated. Wes and I take turns in the morning: alternating days, one of us makes/puts the bed back together into a couch for the day, while the other makes coffee. We both prefer coffee duty because it’s much less work. The quietest and most still either of us are on any given day is the hour when we sip coffee, wake up, and read – news on our phones (we have internet through a MiFi device or tethering, depending on available service) or books.
- This past summer, we were in St. George, Utah because Wes’ work as a wilderness guide is based there. It was a lovely and brutal summer managing and enduring extreme heat. The Airstream air conditioner is small and mighty, but given that it needs to constantly work in order to keep the shiny aluminum tin can cool, it needs breaks every few hours. In July, we timed our days so that mornings were for work – I set up to paint either just outside, or on my table easel inside – and mid afternoons we’d turn off the AC and head either to the rec center or the library. During the night when it wasn’t cooling down below 90 one of us had to get up in the middle of the night to turn off the AC when it was no longer producing cool air. We slept with a sheet which typically ended up kicked mostly off the bed by morning.
- I have a dedicated, narrow and tall cabinet to store my easels, canvas, and display boards. It’s just behind the bathroom and in front of a bench that functions as a hangout area, guest sleeping nook, storage (under the cushion), and coat/laundry rack – some day I’ll write my love letter to Command strips for all they do for me/us. My paints, brushes, and often works-in-progress (if they’re 12″x12″ or so, or smaller) are in a dedicated art drawer, above the one we use for toiletries, and below two drawers dedicated for cooking (pot, pan, steamer, two small plastic cutting boards, knives, cutlery, plates, bowls, other assorted utensils – cheese grater, can opener, spatula, etc).
- We have a tiny, metal trash can that lives either in the cabinet under the sink, or on the counter.
- Coffee and coffee-making accoutrement occupy a metal basket in a cabinet that is essentially a pantry.
- But – “The Pantry”, in our marital shorthand, is a collapsible, Costco-purchased bin that lives behind the driver’s seat in the truck. That’s where we stash extra food and staples that aren’t immediately needed on the trailer.
- We purchased two zero-gravity lounge chairs for our ten year anniversary in October that are unusual in our assorted belongings in that they are giant and cumbersome – not qualities we are typically after in this phase of living – but, honestly, delightful. We have a little stargazing book that was maybe my top read of 2023 that has sparked our interest in astronomy, being as we are in dark sky country.
- There’s usually a notepad lying around on the counter by the door, or on the swivel table next to the couch, that has a running grocery list and one or both of our to-do lists. I love checkboxes, and if I’m feeling particularly proud of a task, I love fully striking it through. Usually on my list: run, paint, write, social (media), and other random art business administration tasks, like website updates and accounting.
- You’ll laugh: we use Google Calendar to manage our schedules, coordinate use of the trailer if one of us needs it (often me for facilitating remote meetings via my consulting work; sometimes Wes for work-related calls), and manage use of the truck and Prius. For instance, right now I have my calendar fully blocked for Wes’ trip up to St. George to guide a trip. He gets the fuel-efficient little Toyota, and I have the big ol’ truck. I’m fine with that: more quality time at camp!
- Longer term discussions are around where we will live/work for any given season. Right now, we’ve figured out the spring (St. George, where Wes will be guiding), summer (Reno, where Wes is leading a trail crew), and fall (back to St. George). We have several potential art events in those regions that we’re tracking the application process for.
- Laundry means quarters means we have a little zip lock baggie of them (medication canisters work great too, FYI) and detergent that lives in the side door of the truck. Laundry day is a chore. We switch off. When I go, I bring my laptop so I can use the free WiFi and get some work done: either consulting, art social media, or writing (like this!).
- Managing waste is a constant dance. The usual questions: Did you plug the grey water tank? (We strategically save up the grey water so it flushes out the black water hose). Do we need to dump? (Dumping the blackwater; as pleasant a chore as it sounds!).
- Our little trailer shower is beautiful, with teak wood slats underfoot that resemble a sauna. Only problem is that the floor was built fully flat, so it doesn’t drain properly. This means either lifting up the teak and squeegee-ing out the extra water toward the drain, or very very very strategically positioning the trailer so the water (mostly) drains. This is a thorn in our side and likely something that will require an overhaul-level fix someday, maybe, but then again…maybe not, because:
We often get the question: will you live like this forever? The answer is no. I don’t know what the “other side” looks like yet. Right now the rhythm of moving the trailer roughly once a season – winter, spring, summer, fall – is just enough movement to enable change, without being too overwhelming. But it still requires a lot of advance planning, and packing/hitching up and moving is an Event every time. Towing a rattle trap trailer means that everything in our little home is shaking as we rumble across the highway, and even in a device designed to do that it means that things wear and break. It’s stressful and exciting to move somewhere new. At some point, the stress will outweigh the novelty, and we’ll want to find a more permanent spot to unhitch.
That said: the more we inhabit this seasonal type of living, the less we can see ourselves in any one fixed location year round.
I am grateful for all of our years in Alaska, in “Narnia”/our log home with the beautiful view and the many people who were part of creating a rich trove of memories there. But I don’t miss it. I love the view from here in this semi-outdoors way of living; one foot constantly out of the door and taking in fresh air, my hand on a paintbrush or clacking away on this keyboard.
And speaking of: I am running a 24% off for 2024 sale right now to help create more space in this tiny 19′ Mobile Art Studio. If you’re looking for beautiful artwork to inspire your connection to the outdoors, and a sense of everyday awe on your home or office wall, check out this collection of paintings on offer. You can simply scroll through and browse, find what you love, and purchase it right there on my website before anyone else has the chance. This sale is only running through Monday, 2/12 – don’t wait!
Pics from our lives in the Mobile Art Studio below! I would love to hear what you think and happy to answer your questions or swap tiny living stories/anecdotes.
