Living in the Car Is Not Sustainable as Clove and I Continue Our Search for Safe Ground

Honesty is finding yourself in the woods, realizing you are alone, in the dark, and no one is coming to save you.

There has been my dearest of friends, lending their hearts and listening ears and bits of monies they graciously share. The people that have donated a bit of their hard earned monies to assist us in this stabilization quest. The caseworkers helping the unhoused with every ounce of their kindness and resources. The people also in the trenches with these unstable transitions fighting with every thing they have to be safe and stable. I have known this reality for so many years and growing weary.

Clove and I are still living in the car. I have tried all kinds of thought avenues to convince myself that this is the new normal, yet, the reality is that we are in deep troubles without a stable place to land. What a time to be alive, wishing to relax and relish in the absolutely outstanding nature we are surrounded by, but finding the truth is much more dire and heartbreaking. Is that what you want to hear? Flowers or fear? Mountains or mud in my hair? Healing airflows or heatstroke? Why am I unable to acclimate to this new normal without a gut wrenching feeling of failure or sometimes death? How do I continue to relax when I am unable to sleep horizontal? What am I doing wrong? Why is this happening? How do I get the fuck out of this situation super speedy like lightning?

I did know all of this was hurtling fast towards us and exactly why I placed a lot of trust in someone enough to ask for help and then also trust them enough to follow their lead when they offered to help. They hurt us in the most unimaginable ways by throwing us away like trash. They did something to both of us that will not be soon forgiven nor forgotten. They put a stain on my heart like I have yet to understand how it was even possible to do to someone you called a close friend. We were bamboozled, taken advantage of, and quite literally left for dead. This kind of grief does not disappear. This kind of cold-hearted move ripples upon the waves of time. I will repair the situation for Clove and myself. The close friend will have the life they deserve.

I continue to say, this is just research, enjoy the moment, what a beautiful view, slow down and breathe. I forget to eat because each day begins by wondering how to sustain and where will we find shade so Clove does not die in the car heat? Where will we spend the night that is safe? How on earth can I get horizontal? We need a true breakthrough and we need it now. After enough nights of trying to make the impossible sleeping arrangement work, exhaustion starts to accumulate in ways that are difficult to express unless you have experienced it. The shaking hands, the eyes puffy with grains of sand, the body in pain with bruises from knocking around the sliver of area for rest. Last Friday, I turned up to an interview with only 2 hours of uncomfortable sleep convincing myself it will all be over soon.

The Car Is Now Part of the Emergency

Of course! There is another layer of urgency because the car itself needs significant repairs. The reliable transportation has been such a blessing, safety against the elements, mobility to reach appointments and interviews. It pulled us out of a desperate moment and gave us strength to carry on. The car is currently our shelter, our transportation, and one of the few things giving us mobility while we work toward this stability.

If it becomes unusable, our situation changes dramatically. I am not just sitting on my ass claiming sorrowful situations. I have been moving mountains to obtain a more certain situation for our living situation. There is active turning over rocks of resources, reaching out to every single connection that comes our way, sourcing assistance from corners after corners, asking questions, finding answers, applications and interviews, forward motion even when exhaustion tries to consume me.

Asking for Direct Action

This weekly update had the beginning sprinkles of how Clove was in a harness for the first time, took a hike with a comfortable backpack and did not scream, and how she rolled around excited to be in a tent instead of the car for a couple nights. But, I was struck with this stripping away of distraction and into the truth of what is actually happening with us. This is about honesty, not sugary candies or pretty pictures, nor pretending it is all just fine. This is a direct ask for Clove, for me, for this support network around us, and for the due diligence of accountability. Maybe it comes through like this because of exhaustion or because the hiding in a rainbow is not helping.

You may be amazed to know that even the tiniest amount builds momentum toward safe housing and reliable transportation while I work diligently and extremely hard to rebuild a stable income.

This is a no pressure ask to donate, believe me, please share this fundraiser.

A share can put our story in front of someone I do not have the ability to reach otherwise.

At this very moment, reaching more people is incredibly important. A colleague. Your community directly around you now. The local rescue or book club or class. A group of people you see regularly. Any connection that floats into your mind right now.

Of the original goal, we have received a culmination of two thousand two hundred eighteen dollars so far. These monies meant the difference between gas and privacy window curtains, between an oil change and a shower. There are no words for the gratitude each day brings. Thank you.

We Continue

We are maintaining and in full presence for solutions to show themselves. We are making plans daily and moving toward a safer and more stable life. If you can connect us with housing, employment, community resources, or someone who may know where we can find assistance, please reach out. Right now, I am open to every legitimate door. Clove and I do not need a perfect life; what we need is a safe place to sleep, a reliable way to get there, and enough stability to begin rebuilding.

From My Field Notes

(an additional segment with writings and stories from the road)

THE SWAY

The view from here expands,
around and around we go,
up and over and around the way,
she stays hidden as we continue to sway.

From the nature of things,
not the heart as it stings,
remembering to remember,
forgetting about the rings.

We ask the star that just crossed the night sky,
from a moonbeam corner,
dipped down in the center of my eye,
do we let go,
or do we just die.

Connect And Share

MEDIA KIT: https://undertheroot.studio/motorhome-death-doula-artist-and-cat-clove

UPDATES: https://undertheroot.studio/artist-cat-clove-motorhome-updates

GOFUNDME: https://www.gofundme.com/f/motorhome-for-artist-and-clove

CONTACT: https://undertheroot.studio/contact

The Rebuild of Home for Clove, The Listening Atlas, and Me

The past two weeks contain enblazened views of outstanding lore, love, uncertainty, admiration, connection, and fear. We traversed gravel road potholes, twice we turned around after realizing we were unable to climb a mountain, hunkered down in areas not meant for humans, and watched the moon and the sun in the same morning sky. Most of our unsuccessful tries to camp due to filled up and overpopulated campgrounds, dispersed areas, and parking lots weighed heavy as boulders in our path. One night, this dear creature beside me was called my beloved for the first time as we watched the full moon light up the darkest night sky while we were surrounded, and spied on, by what seemed like a legion of wild felines. We were welcomed by the dearest of friends along the way and that fact has kept us steady as we go.

Clove and I moved from roadstops to parking lots, tree spots and loving dots, on the journey to our landing squats. These peoples and places have held my exhaustion and languishing thoughts. My journal writings stopped as my noticeable anxious insides have showed themselves to be tethered with a life long safety mechanism that I have used for decades. Run, Jen, run. We will be working on shifting that mindset from here on out.

Hopscotch Towards The Forests and The Sea

The next steps are already in motion, we leave out for our next journey later this week, to the area in which the sights have been set. Applications are being sent, interviews are scheduled, meetups on the calendar, our life and camping gear in the car. This continuation of roaming is about to slow down and center our movements around one area in particular. The priorities are to secure revenue streams, lock in a homespot to rest our heads, rebuild and expand from there.

The Return of Under The Root

In 2003, I began the blueprint and architecture of Under The Root from this well of desire to create intimate apparel from reclaimed, sustainable, and discontinued fabrics. It began as a way to learn, express, grow, rebel, and take back my agency from scarcity. It worked for such a long time… until it burned out and needed a major rest area some 20 years later. The studio is still purring and has grown to be populated with a different kind of rebellion, smoother edges, deeper core of belief. I have taken the years of dedication, with its skill and mastery, down a path towards mortality, death, dying, grief, psychedelics, and transitional thresholds.

The past 3 years of education, volunteer work, and community involvement have begun to overflow, with me creating community resources in the form of pdf downloads, recorded workshops, collections of care for support services, and handcrafted goods from my designs. At this point, I have been creating and making for such a dearly long time that it makes complete sense to keep growing in ways that listen, serve, help, and care.

The Listening Table

One of the most bubbling over actions for this next Under The Root chapter is underway. The outreach for The Listening Table began a handful of weeks ago. The Listening Table is a pilot program that branches from the larger vision behind The Listening Atlas. These workshops are inperson and carve out time for older adults and our elders to be offered creative conversations, artistic presence, expansive curiosity, and meaningful connections. This is the beginning, with or without The Listening House.

Thank You for Holding Space for Us to Grow

For all the donations, shares, purchases, the check ins, the offerings of places to rest, the open doors, and the kindness of reading these updates…
ooooo, we see you and thank you with every ounce of our essence. The original strategy has shifted a bit and the story continues to grow.

The Unexpected Switchback and Learning to Find Home Wherever the Road Leads

The road has become an honest, trustworthy teacher. Twenty minutes of driving tells me more about this motorhome than a day of sitting stationary ever can. The following words are pieced together as a story about learning to navigate uncertainty without losing your curiosity, your compassion and empathy, nor your sense of purpose.

The road chose our departure date for us. Clove and I had been holding steadfast for the time necessary to prepare the road leap. Our extractive and exhaustive move was still settling in our bones… and then, the settling asked us to change each aspect of our planet coordinates again, in one week.

While the past three weeks have been an unexpected switchback along the trail, my road shoes were on and my heart intact. Then, the place where the motorhome had been parked unexpectedly became unavailable, and Clove and I suddenly found ourselves with seven days to gather ourselves, change our plans, and head out on the road much, much sooner than either of us had imagined.

To be raw and bloody honest, it felt like the ground disappeared beneath our feet and the rug snapped viciously out from under. There was shame, avoidance, miscommunication, missed opportunities, and ultimate acceptance. The plan had been to find some solid income in order to breach much closer to making the motorhome safe and dependable before beginning this next leg of the tour. The road had other ideas. Of course!

The Road Does Not Wait

Those seven days became one long sprint of packing, planning, continuing the search for work, and making difficult decisions. All the while, working day and night to stay one step ahead while carrying the precious weight of uncertainty. Before I was able to breathe it, we were living the very thing I had been working so hard to prepare for. Ready or not, the journey had begun.

Finding Our Rhythm

We have now been on the road for about two weeks and it has not been easy to assimilate. There have been moments that were incredibly uncomfortable, moments that resonated uncertainty from the core of the earth, and most recently the moments of quick decisions from unsafe situations. I can not give up now, each morning brings another opportunity to keep free of the cobwebs working so hard to encircle my situation.

I have been witness to my resilience and it does not arrive all at once. It keeps showing up in the small corners of decisions. A choice, most times, to just make a meal and take that moment to rest before giving worry to the tomorrow. Those breaths ease my nervous system before solving the next problem which are, without a doubt, about to show up. Clove is not a road warrior yet, she still needs a quiet place to curl up and we both spend an enormous amount of time to find a safe place to park each night.

I do believe that carving space for restful moments before tackling the next obstacle is bearing the fruits of a clear head. The clarity is not a luxury. It is the very thing that gives way to growing my road legs.

Small Victories Matter

The motorhome is proving itself in so many ways and reminding me where it can use a big hug in others. The good news is that it runs. It does not purr like a kitty, yet. It can not climb mountains, yet. The challenging news is that it overheats after about twenty minutes of driving, the brakes are sticking, there is a whirring sound with huge play in the steering column, and is due for a full tuneup. A whole lotta love before any longer trips become realistic. Those repairs have become our next major priority. The road less traveled has a way of revealing what no inspection will ever be able to.

Kindness Finds You

One of the most spectacular parts of these past weeks has been discovering how kindness and strength continue to appear exactly when desperation hits and very much needed. A dear friend stepped in with support that helped carry us through the very first, difficult stretch. A small and mighty work opportunity came through at just the right moment. Those moments reminded me that even when plans fall apart, community has a remarkable way of showing up. I will not ever take that for granted and hope it becomes reciprocal for the rest of my days. I know who I am and my closest friends know exactly who I am. There will always be the scared looks of uncertainty from some and it is not my job to convince, only to be exactly the honest and trustworthy companion possible.

Looking Ahead

If this journey has carved in me anything so far, it is that flexibility may become one of the most valuable tools in my carry bag. The roadmap has changed and probably will continue to do so. The timeline has changed and is asking me to leave open those possibilities indefinitely. Even the destination sometimes feels more askew than I had imagined it to be. The purpose has not changed and the work continues. The motorhome is still asking for my attention, right now. The Listening Atlas is awaiting to be built like firewood set next to a pit. And, probably most importantly, Clove and I are moving forward, one step, one mile, one repair, and one day at a time.

Thank You

Thank you to everyone who has continued to follow along, donate, share updates, shop with Under The Root, and encourage us through every step of this unexpected switchback in the road. While this was not the chapter I had expected to write, maybe that is exactly the yarn that was needed on this weave of a journey. The road did not ask permission if we were ready. It plopped us down and pointed us in a direction to map out, and that is what we are plugging away to do.

From My Field Notes

(an additional segment with writings and stories from the road)

DEAR GRANDMA

The monsters surrounded every corner,
deals were made,
horns in a cacophone,
generators unyielding,
people yelling and pissing on the ground,
doors slamming with rebound.

My triggers lighting up like a house on fire,
i lay frozen, without fight nor flight,
solid as a stone under the covers,
weaving spells along every nook and cranny,
windows, walls, and cries for,
help from Granny.

At the break of light, slithered into the seat out of sight,
pretending to mean that all along,
thick white plumes out the pipes,
proceeded to roll along.

Bind these windows and doors and walls,
Keep away what does not belong,
Draw in what is to sail along.

WE CONTINUE ON.

MEDIA KIT: https://undertheroot.studio/motorhome-death-doula-artist-and-cat-clove

UPDATES: https://undertheroot.studio/artist-cat-clove-motorhome-updates

GOFUNDME: https://www.gofundme.com/f/motorhome-for-artist-and-clove

CONTACT: https://undertheroot.studio/contact