The van transformation

I’ve been staying in Celeste’s apartment for a week as my van sits empty in the parking lot outside of her balcony. In my site. In my mind. I spent so many hours tearing the van apart and putting it back together that it already feels like a home. Familiar. I made it out to South Mountain this morning to let the van breath a little while I got some shots of the interior. A lot of love and learning went into making it what it is.

Last September when my dad and I brought the van home on a trailer, I wasn’t sure if I would throw some paint on the cabinets or if I would gut it and start new. I had doubts and fears about renovating it entirely. Would it be worth it? Was I able to do it? Can I afford it? At the time I was working as a waitress and paying half my paycheck to live in my apartment. I was leaning towards living with the brown, dusty interior that had no storage nor a decent bed if only so I could hit the road ASAP with more money in my pocket. When I got the position at Hallmark and life began rapidly changing, I started to take this dream seriously. I so badly wanted to rip the caramel colored carpet from the floor, rip out the cabinets and futon and toilet. I wanted a space I was comfortable in, not just a space I would have to deal with for months. After a two week road trip in the summer, I had a list of all of the work the van needed. New flooring, more storage, a better bed. It was validated: the van as it was would simply not do. And lets be honest, I wanted to HGTV the crap out of that van. There is nothing better than a killer before and after. Here is a shot of the van the day that I bought it. In fantastic shape, no cigarette smell, no stains. My Dad’s bald head.

She’s brown. So brown. In July, I tore everything out of her and saved what I could. In the beginning, the progress crept. After demo there was cleaning and labeling parts and planning what to do next. All of this, I should mention, did not excite my Dad, who was now my partner in building the van from top to bottom. Because he is my Dad and because I lived in the basement now, I was able to harass him every day. I pitched it as a fun bonding experience, which was not untrue. I doused it with a lot of blind optimism, that frankly, only came from me so I had to really go all in and believe it. The truth is, I knew I could do it. With his help. For a few reasons. Not only had my mom reminded me constantly growing up that I can do anything, but I had also watched my parents renovate houses, bathrooms and bedrooms and dozens of other DIY projects. It was simply something I grew up around. And finally, I had experienced the power of community and knew my own would encourage me and help if asked for it. My friends, family, and many past teachers and professors who have advocated for me for over and over. I knew there were people out in the world that believed in me, and that made a lot of difference. Building this van wasn’t a breeze- there was blood, tears, arguments, and constant do-overs; fixing problems only to create more problems and taking twice the time to fix those. It was eating, sleeping, and breathing “VAN”. It took us 2-3 months of complicated, constant, exhausting work. But it was made so sweet and rewarding by everyone who helped get to what she sits as now.

So I won’t say much more about the build today. I think a proper video and Q&A should be tackled soon. I didn’t record much of the building process but I learned so much. Namely, caulk is your friend and your foe. But mostly your friend.

Thanks for following along on this journey. You can find my GoFundMe page here.