There’s something about raising a thing from the dead…certain people are compelled to do it; take some utterly defunct old relic and save it from the wrecking ball, the crusher, the dump heap. I’m one of those people. I’m sure the origins of this trait are as nuanced as any human soul. I love to re-contextualize, uncover, discover. I habitually see potential, beauty, usefulness, possibility, economy, and perhaps even healing, in this practice.

A few years ago I bought this rotted out and butchered 19 ft. 1955 Silver Streak “Jet” trailer. I didn’t know exactly how it would fit into my life, which is full of flux and movement…but some combination of instinct and desire propelled me to hitch it up and take it home. The first thing I did was park it in the back of my welding shop and gut it: Trash, mold, rat turds, appliances, furniture, paint – even the sub floor came out. Literally everything. Then…it sat in my driveway, a little shell with it’s teeth knocked out, for two years.

This spring (2015) I’ve set about the resurrection process, making this aluminum bread loaf come back to life.

People who are makers seek out the moment of transformation. Most of the time this happens to some degree on a battlefield. In all of my journey as a maker, I’ve come to rely on a certitude that every authentic making process contains two essential elements: Battle and love.

The Silver Streak project fits the recipe.

Here are some photos of the process so far…















1955 Silver Streak Trailer | 2013 | Spaces