In 1854 Henry Thoreau wrote, “There is some of the same fitness in a man’s building his own house that there is in a bird’s building its own nest. Who knows but if men constructed their dwellings with their own hands, and provided food for themselves and families simply and honestly enough, the poetic faculty would be universally developed, as birds universally sing when they are so engaged.”
The little bus in the photo is my home. It was a school bus with 19 seats when I bought it two years ago. I removed most of the seats and have slowly and cheaply built a beautiful little home for myself in there. It’s not finished. Like the two novels I’m writing.
It’s cost me very little to get to where it’s at, but taken plenty of thinking, a lot of frustration, quite some profanity, and been an absolute joy. Like the two novels I’m writing.
It has no shower yet, but I can shower at beaches or in rivers. Which is wonderful. I collect free electricity from the sun and stay in free campgrounds like the beautiful one in the photo, which is at Thora, NSW, Australia. That’s Thora, not Thoreau, but I think he’d have approved.
Unable to write lately, I got out of the city a few days ago, and last night I wrote again. I feel like a bird who just got his voice back.
Do you think maybe Henry was right ?