I do not know if it’s because I loved Microbe et Gasoil, or because I came across this image on Urban Outfitters blog but right now I’m obsessed with tiny houses. Houses no larger than a student apartment but with all the charm of a big one.
In the latest film by Michel Gondry, Microbe and Gasoil are two teenagers who build a car with a lawnmower engine and give it the shape of a house to hide from the police. It exists in the United States, we call it “tiny houses”. You can move it according to your desires and it includes the minimum to live (my favorite is a house designed by Heirloom). But the crucial point is what is your minimum to live?
When I was a student in art school prep, our volume teacher asked us to design a cell. Not a cell of imprisonment, but a place of habitat as small as possible which would contain all the necessary comfort to live there a month. After some trial and error not very inspired (and a big shouting of the said teacher toward our too academic attitude), each imagined a concept completely crazy and personal. I remember a house on wheel to meet people, a house on the edge of a cliff to contemplate the view, a floating house to travel on the oceans, … For mine I had imagined a bubble (our teacher had reproached us for seeing things too square, I wanted to prove her the opposite ^^) suspended in the middle of the forest. The interior had a kitchen, a bathroom, a large bed, clever storage, a library and especially a view of the surrounding forest. Apart from the bathroom, the entire cell was a single room of a few square meters. In addition to making us think about proportions, our teacher really wanted us to think about the question of minimalism.
With time I think back about it and I tell myself that I would not change much, the essential is there. Maybe the form. The location probably. I would put my cell on wheels to be able to move and travel, or I would build it in the middle of nowhere, near a lake or a forest in order to have a huge garden. But eventually I realize that I do not need a big space to live. The more space you have, the more you fill it, fill the gap to escape. In Iceland I had only the minimum and I did not miss anything. I was too busy exploring the place to worry about it, but the house for me should be the place where we rest, not the place where we lock ourselves surrounded by objects. When I open my closets they overflow, I have boxes to store things that I do not use (and that I have forgotten the existence because they are hidden in these boxes), clothes to dress a for months without doing any laundry, things that I kept because they were given to me or offered, trinkets accumulated over the years … So little by little I began to sort, to throw , to give, to declutter. That way, the day I build my little house, I’ll only have the essentials to take there.
And you, what is your minimum to live? Can you imagine living in a small space? Or on the contrary you only swear by the big rooms?
Here are other projects that leave me dreamy: