By Alexandra Salazar, SFCC
Isabel Winson-Sagan reports:
Now, if we had followed the original plans, we probably would have ended up destroying this brand new trailer. Luckily I’m being helped by experienced metal workers/contractors, who pointed out that removing the side walls would wreck the structural integrity of the trailer. We could still remove the railings in the front and the ramps from underneath, just not the side walls. It seems possible that purchasing a new trailer, while safer in many respects than going with a used one, undermined us on this point because this model is newer than the one used for previous Tumbleweed tiny houses, and so the plans and the trailer do not match up. So the question became- how do we modify the plans in order to keep the original floor dimensions, without removing the sidewalls, in a safe manner?
To see the ongoing process of Isabel Winson-Sagan’s BabaBuilders, go to http://bababuilders.wix.com/babayagahouse
Be Prepared or Three Wishes: No Sausage on my Nose
As a child I read the fairy tale of a woodcutter granted three wishes by some magical imp in the forest. First, hungry, the woodcutter wishes for a sausage. His wife is furious–he should have wished for gold, jewels, etc. So, now angry, he wishes that the sausage dangle from her nose. And of course is forced to use the last wish to remove it.
Did I learn not to be greedy or angry or foolish? No. Like the devoted Girl Scout I was, I learned to be prepared. (And no wishing for more wishes, by the way).
For much of my life, I’ve put myself to sleep at night preparing ten–count ‘em–ten wishes to have handy.
Now that I’m older, I like to quantify my wishes. I don’t want to be “rich” or have ten million dollars. No, I’d like to have a magic wallet that daily produces $40.00. Doesn’t that sound good? Enough to take a friend to a nice lunch, or buy a hardback, or join the Botanical Garden. Every day. And not enough to quit my job or have to buy a bigger house.
So I don’t wish for fame–rather that my blog’s hits double. Or my Amazon sales go up 10% a week. That I get a really fun gig. That there always be boursin cheese if the refrigerator. Sometimes I feel magnanimous and wish that a particular friend get her or his wish.
Now all I need is for an imp to appear and grant me three wishes. I’m ready.
Have you ever set specific creative goals for yourself? Yes.
Such as? Painting with Red and Green for two years in a row.
Did you “succeed” or “fail”? I felt like I succeeded, at least I accomplished what I set out to do which was to understand how to work with complementary colors.
How have these goals changed over time? Yes.
How successful have you been at publishing or showing your work? I am showing my work now.
In the past decade, have you been able to bring your work out into the world? Somewhat.
Are you satisfied with your ability to engage with new technology? I am always striving to understand new technology and utilize it.
My ultra creative daughter Isabel is building herself an official Tiny House this summer. The Slavic witch Baba Yaga isn’t the only one with a mobile dwelling! Help be part of the team that builds the foundation–a trailer bed in this case–by contributing at http://igg.me/p/443880/x/3699690
$5.00 gets you in as part of the team and higher contributions get you a B & B stay in the house!
This amazing sartorial creation, by Jennifer Pritchard Couchman, is made from a book of fairy tales and worn by writer Claire Massey
The pictures are by Jonathan Bean @Litfest.
The Baba Yaga House
Isabel Winson-Sagan is a resident of Santa Fe, NM, and has a degree from the University of New Mexico in religious studies and evolutionary anthropology. She will soon be attending the University of Aberdeen in Scotland for further work in religious studies. She just bought the trailer for her Tiny House, and will be starting her build in the next couple of months.
If I were forced to provide a single, unqualified answer to the question, “Why are you building a tiny house?” I would have to say: instantaneous love. I was 8 years old when I first saw the inside of an RV trailer, while on a road trip with my parents. Afterwards I demanded of my mother, “Why don’t we live in one of these?” On some level I was wounded. My parents had always known about these perfect, tiny, ship-like houses on wheels, and had chosen to abide in our irritatingly stationary home instead.
To read the whole essay:
The Ballad of Baba Yaga
I wandered through the Cricklewood
On a snowy and wintry day,
Face to the wind, back to the trees
The forest to the West did lay.
I was no child, I had no fear
Of Baba Yaga’s famed disguise.
Her love of children for a meal
Her snaggle tooth and whispered lies.
But winter turned her back on me
And shredded her over long nails
Wandered the hills through the snows
Screeched her high-pitched wails.
She settled in a nestled wood
Beneath wispy branches of pinon
Watched slyly as two children stood
Innocence their faces crowned.
She licked their boots sniffed their toes
Crooning sweet notes all the while
Warm little bodies, bundled up snug
For roasting, or stewing once beguiled
Fear crawled beneath their winter clothes
Crept into skulls lost far from home
Winter unfurled a breath of ice
Gleeful to see them all alone.
Slyly she crept up to their knees,
Another blast of hoary breath
Until their chests were covered full
Fear now turned their face toward death
Her nails worn down to the quick
Through scabbed lips another breath she drew
Gathering arctic force, a full winter’s gale
Innocence and children both she slew
Into her mortar she snuggled down
With pestle for rudder she glided past
Belly content with her childlike meal
She lazily scratched the crack in her ass