this is not my trailer


This is not my trailer. It’s a trailer from the very cool looking El Cosmico camping site in Texas. My trailer is, at the moment, a giant ugly tin can of white, orange, rust and duct tape remnants. BUT my trailer has potential and I’m planning on exploiting every last inch of it. In the meantime, I’m on the lookout for renovated trailers (interior and exterior) to give me some ideas of what I should do with mine. I found El Cosmico’s trailers at Poppytalk, along with some other inspiring ideas (particularly for exterior paint).

For today, I’ll leave you with some of El Cosmico’s manifesto which I like a lot and which I’d like to incorporate into my new ‘farm for a year’ life (as much as possible). I’ll definitely be kicking dirt around, not so sure about the email-less napping. But the state of mind? Yes please.

If you have been to Marfa or places like it, you may have experienced Mañana. Mañana cannot generally be found in cities with more than one stoplight. Mañana doesn’t care about email or normal hours of operation. Mañana recognizes that we can’t all have everything we want at any given moment, like peaches in January or cell phone reception in West Texas. Mañana is the anticipation that it might happen today, and it might just as likely not, and really either way it’s not that big of a deal. The key to Mañana lies somewhere in the unspecified future. It holds the great promise of hope.

El Cosmico is at the center of this exodus from a world of urgency, and flies its Mañana flag proudly. This is not to be understood as irreverence for timeliness and progress. We believe in those things too. But life gets busy. The way you thought things would go just aren’t the way they end up. Maybe the pack rats have chewed the phone lines. Best intentions are waylaid. But it seems like sometimes the only way to make something really amazing is through a steady balance of kicking the dirt around and napping. This is what we do.