Let me start out by highlighting that I’ve been in a particularly intense situation since I left Austin to live in the van, so this post isn’t a how-to for working on the road, nor is it generally applicable to everyone. I haven’t been handling the normal hardships like theft, bad weather, creeps, or overrun campsites, though I did deal with some car trouble and freezing nights. Rather, this is my personal, crazy story that you might find interesting, followed by some lessons learned.
My relationship immediately started deteriorating once my boyfriend and I hit the road, and like a trapped animal it seemed to panic and claw everything in sight, paying no mind to damage done to itself or the surroundings in the process. This spanned almost 6 of the last 7 months, before we managed to end things warmly and lovingly, with big opportunities for growth on both sides.
Additionally, the company I work for (I am maintaining a part-time day job) got acquired only a month after taking off, so I’ve been rolling with those changes and stepping into an entirely new job description. This has been absolutely lovely and such a good change for everyone involved, but all changes are stressors.
A month after that, I landed a big, fantastic illustration project. I started work the day after I dropped the boyfriend in LA to tour with his band, the day I started traveling solo (though we hadn’t broken up yet.)
A month after that, the van started having trouble in Southern Utah, serious enough trouble to spur me to actually rent a room for two months in Salt Lake City while I found a new vehicle (which I did, pictured above, isn’t she lovely?)
A month after that, my only sister had her first child, Hildegard, who had my heart at hello.
A month later, my boyfriend and I had officially cut the cord, and I came to Mill Valley to work in a beautiful apartment, so graciously offered to me by a friend who out shooting a documentary all month.
A month after that, I wrapped the project and turned 30 years old the next day.
Holy hell, are you still with me? Am I still with me? What even is life?
So in the little bursts of travel between being with family at Christmas, a [day-job] work trip to Canada, a week house-sitting in Vegas, a week at my dad’s house in the guest room, two months in my SLC room, and a month in an apartment in California, I learned a lot about “working from the road.” Mostly I was taking day hikes near whatever desk I happened to be borrowing. Not exactly what I had envisioned, but definitely not a bad situation either. And, I learned some things. I learned so many things. Here are just a few of the main things:
First Lesson: Ask for What You Need
I’ve learned this one before, and I learned it again. A while into this work I ended up asking for an extension on the deadline. Asking was scary, but I’ve found that 9/10 times people surprise you with kindness and flexibility.
Second Lesson: Traveling without Free Time is Driving
When I was too busy to immerse myself in a place, I started to feel less like I was traveling, and more like I was just driving and parking. Additionally, I started to feel less like I was creating and more like I was working a job, so finding places to stay became crucial to continuing to enjoy the work itself.
Third and Biggest Lesson: Short-Term Projects Only
From this experience, I think I could maintain about a 30 hour work week on the road. Twenty hours at my day job, and 10 to dedicate to maintaining my business including producing, marketing, administrative stuff, and everything else. That’s slow going, but it’s enough to maintain and even to progress in bursts. You can do a lot in 10 focused hours. If I were to get a client project that put me at 40-50 hours for a week or so, I could probably handle that so long as I had margin surrounding each project to enjoy my surroundings.
Why is it so much different working on the move?
When you live nomadically, especially alone, everything takes longer. Brushing your teeth, washing dishes, getting ready for bed, getting ready for the day, going to the bathroom, getting to a place to work, and especially cooking. These extra minutes added to every activity can easily add up to hours in a day, hours that I no longer had. On top of normal life stuff, I also needed to factor in things like building and putting out fires each night because it was getting down to freezing fairly reliably (I was in the eastern Sierras for the first few weeks in February), and of course driving time, dealing with mishaps, car maintenance, errands, traffic, and so on.
All of this amounted to essentially a constant state of rushing, and I’m a person that thrives on slowness, quiet, and contemplation. I found that I was sacrificing eating 3 meals or exercising any given day, just so I could squeeze in some quiet time for me around work hours. I also quickly realized that it hardly mattered where I was, because I didn’t have the time to go out hiking, meeting people, or climbing anyway. So that’s when my borrowed desk/room/apartment hopping began.
As much as I’ve been a bit heartsick as well as antsy to get moving, I’ve also been so grateful for the exciting work opportunity that I just had, and for the forced slow-down that it provided. I got some really good insights during these months that I may have otherwise been too distracted to see, and I’m taking a hard look at my trajectory in life and mainly, in work.
I’m so grateful for any of you who are along for the ride with me here. I’m excited to share my hard work with you, and to get going on some changes for the future.
If you haven’t already, find me on Instagram and Dribbble to follow my art and travels. There's also a sign up for an email list on my homepage. I have yet to write a newsletter. Can we lump this inot said "changes for the future?" Feel free to sign up and join me in my intimidating learning process for how to write a newsletter.