A vision thrives with infrastructure that gives strategic initiatives a solid foundation, strengthens shared realities, and establishes safe continuous growth.
As wonderful and as wild as my vision seems, the foundation needs more investment in each of these to bring it into present reality.
Infrastructure requires resources.
There is a tendency to romanticize and fantasize the outcome while overlooking the foundation, especially when projects involve travel, art, or alternative living. What is involved to build a mobile life and practice from the ground up?
The first phase of this project is about stabilization. I am not a beginner at this life, no matter how this may look from my bank account. The funds being raised have already directly supported the purchase of a motorhome, registration, insurance, and legal compliance. The critical repairs and safety upgrades are next. Then comes the basic interior modifications for livability along with foundational systems for long term mobility.
This is not a luxury build, nor does it need to be. I care far more about a structure that ensures safety, continuity, and the ability to work. The context aligns with part of a larger pattern affecting artists, care workers, death doulas, independent contractors, freelancers, and community organizers. The people filling in the gaps left wide open by institutions and structurally among the least supported. We provide emotional labor, sustain community networks, and provide spaces for care, ritual, and connection.
The institutions rely on our labor yet rarely provide the infrastructure needed to support and sustain the humans holding it together. As housing instability continues to rise and income volatility increases, the institutions are also loosing their infrastructure. This is a cyclical pattern and rather than find my place in it, there is a different question bubbling up from underground. What if we collectively build our own infrastructure?
The only reason why a choice was made to begin a GoFundMe was to personally invest in a solution that expands far beyond helping one person secure housing. It is within my capabilities to demonstrate how mobility can replace instability and infrastructure can emerge from crisis. Deathcare can be sustained outside traditional systems.
For grassroots organizations, this may resonate as a form of mutual aid.
For arts institutions, it represents a model of embedded, socially engaged practice.
For coalitions and networks, it offers a node—a moving point of connection that can engage across regions.
For corporations and larger entities, it is an opportunity to support tangible, measurable infrastructure with real human impact.
Every dollar in this phase is functional.
Every contribution moves this from concept to reality.
Because before anything can be shared, documented, or built—
There has to be a structure that holds.
What It Actually Takes to Build a Life on Wheels
There’s a version of this story that could be romantic.
Open roads. Golden light. A quiet, wandering creative life.
That version skips over the most important part: making something like this actually work.
Before this can become a mobile studio or a site of connection, it has to become something more fundamental:
Safe.
Functional.
Sustainable.
The first phase of this project is not aesthetic—it’s structural.
It includes:
Purchasing a motorhome that is mechanically sound
Registering and insuring it legally
Completing repairs and safety upgrades
Making minimal interior adjustments for livability
Building basic infrastructure for long-term mobility
This is the foundation.
Without it, nothing else is possible.
Housing instability is not an abstract concept—it is a growing reality, particularly for artists, caregivers, and independent workers. And what this project proposes is not just a personal solution, but a model:
What if a crisis could become infrastructure?
What if displacement could become mobility?
What if survival could become a platform for contribution?
The funds raised are not excess—they are precise. Directed. Necessary.
They make the difference between precarity and possibility.
Between temporary solutions and something that can hold.
This is the part of the story that is often unseen.
But it is also the part that makes everything else real.
