The Miniature
August 22, 2010 by Natalie
(The author and her editor on a mini-vacation.)
About once a day, like a faithful geyser, Austin will turn to me and say: “Whoa. I think I just had a great idea.” And for as long as I have known that boy, I am still utterly unable to predict whether the great idea is going mean we make pizza for dinner or start a project that fundamentally changes our life.
A few weeks ago Austin had a fantastic idea that I haven’t been able to shake off. I’m calling it Austin’s Tiny Timeshare. He noted that summer has taken a long time to get rolling and that we don’t have much leeway for vacation this year, but we are itchy to make the very best of it. He proposed that we get together with some friends to construct a tiny house in Bend. Imagine us darting out from under the oppressively verdant canopy of the Willamette Valley to make a run for Bend. We’d strike out on a whim with bikes, dog and trail shoes to our launching pad for adventure, our 200sq ft claim on a life outside our norm.
The idea has fueled my day dreams of an imagined future, but the need for escape that it speaks to is present and real. And so Austin’s Tiny Timeshare bobs along in my mind at once delightfully buoyant and sadly out of reach.
But I think the idea of the Tiny Timeshare holds within it another idea ready to unfurl like a parachute and bring this whole scheme back down to earth where we can use it. And that is the idea of the miniature. Specifically, the miniature as used in a Japanese garden.
Japanese gardens use miniature elements like rocks, gravel, and moss to represent larger landscape features. Rocks become small islands, gravel becomes a rolling sea, and moss becomes forested lowlands. Through an artful cultivation of scale and vantage point, the small garden is transformed into a spacious landscape.
The tiny house, of course, has a similar knack for expansion. Its diminutive stance makes the clearing broader and the sky larger. It’s tiny inside reminds you how much outside the world has to offer. But until it is real, I can work with the principles of the miniature in my present landscape and with the time I have.
For what remains of our summer, I will let the small experiences make the rest of my world feel larger.
- A sub-24 hour bike camping trip in place of the weeklong bike tour.
- An hour in the park with a magazine rather than a day at the beach with a novel.
- A pint of blueberries from the farm stand instead of the day spent picking and jamming.
I’ll be jumping lightly among these moments, like jumping from rock to rock in a garden that is really islands in a great big sea.
Oh! I can really relate to this. One of my dreams is to have a tiny vacation house, perhaps one made out of an old shipping container, on the Olympic Peninsula or an island in the San Juans. It would accumulate a foot of moss on the roof and smell like pine forest. Maybe I could kayak to it.
I’ve been eating a sandwich in the park some days after work, and that half hour is sometimes more restful than a week on vacation out of the country. It all depends on my state of mind and my intention and how present I am in my experience.
Sometimes tiny is just enough; sometimes the real thing is too big.
Hi Natalie,
I like your perspective on this. Starting small is a brilliant way to make big ideas more tangible. Tammy affectionately refers to our approach as “Smalltopia”.
Cheers!
Enjoyed the narrative of this post. Well said.
This is brilliant! let me know when/where and i’d love to play carpenter with y’all!
there’s a poem by the sufi poet, haffiz, that goes something like this: “God and i are like two fat men in a small boat / we keep bumping into each other and laughing.”
Living small is at the root of a million surprises. mostly good. always funny (albiet sometimes not funny-laugh-out-loud, but funny-weird which is still good). So I say, the smaller the better!
Great blog!
I was just talking about y’all a few weeks ago, and logan forwarded me this link! YEA!!!!!
Dee
Melinda,
Your sandwich in the park is a great example of the moments I am looking for. The only thing extravagant about it is the perfect match between what you are needing and what you are open to receiving.
PB&J FTW!
-Nat
Hi Logan,
I’ve been really enjoying following your Smalltopia on RowdyKittens. Surely, as we live in Portland, our ‘topias will meet in a bike lane some day soon! Ring a bell, say hello – I’d love make the real life connection.
-Nat
Thanks Tyler!!
Hi Dee,
Your offer to play carpenter with us makes Austin’s Tiny Timeshare feel suddenly more like a call to action – how could we NOT plan the immediate future such that we are hanging out with great folks and a tool box?
But ultimately, I bet you’d agree that the lessons of living small aren’t a weekend or vacation affair. It might be less grand to invite the poem’s fat man aboard our existing boat, but if there’s bumping and laughing, this is exactly where it’s going to happen
- Nat
Yo, Nat. You’re getting some props here over at the vsalon! Nice.
Real life connections are great! We’ll have to have you and Austin over for dinner or at the very least meet for a beer. Tammy and I would love to hear your & Austin’s perspective on a few things.
Cheers,
Logan.
This is so well-timed! I want to build a Tumbleweed home. I want to have a tiny space all my own and portable. I am small and love small, thinking small is like giving myself a big hug. Smalltopia rules!
I walked yesterday with my dogs and counted 12 different wildflowers, all bejeweled with dew, white, yellow, orange, blue and purple. It was an hour long vacation, right in my own pasture.