We are rained in and it looks like we will be for some time. This small coastal town has turned biblically torrential with a soviet sky. They have promised a stage three cyclone but we will most likely receive a left-over lover in the shape of high winds. Sloppy seconds. Very interesting. I watch the crowd here, embraced in the kind of unity that cant be shaken by a little sky disco. They laugh and talk and play music as though it is mid-afternoon at Burning Man, and as the rain bellows down onto the tarp covering our camp kitchen, we know that our intent and solidarity will pull us through to the other side of this Earthly bedlam.
As far as the build goes? Well, we have finished pounding about 90% of the tires (nine courses high), the re-bar is pounded and tied in, ready for the roof, we started making bottle bricks today, the grey and black water botanical cells are in, the cooling tubes are in, most of the excavator work is done and the land is smiling. Watching this crew work together is like sitting in front of a well rehearsed orchestra without the rehearsed experience. Just intuition and family.
We have been starting each morning with an affirmation for the day and a titanic group hug in the shape of a fibonacci spiral. We’re builders. Not smelly social outcasts armed with hammers and hearts, builders. The foundation of love set for this build has been a driving force, a compass of sorts. And where is it leading us? Only time shall whisper this truth.
But for now, we have arranged 22 people into a home that sleeps 7. its an intimate environment. Like the last sprotten to make it into the tin. As the Beatles ring sweetly in the background and Signe breast feeds little Sophie to my left, the vibrations settle to a space of love. A space of connected warmth where the next stage of this experiment will rear its head from beneath the ashes and onto united oblivion.