This was only the second time I had built a stretch fabric structure, the first one being the "Prior Unity Temple", 12 years earlier at Burning Man. This was a five-face geodesic dome made from 12 foot pieces of bamboo, and covered in the tight skin of white four-way stretch fabric. It had withstood 2 fierce dust storms, as well as the sun and heat of the Black Rock desert, extremely well. But I was taking a leap of faith to depend on my new structure as my sole protection from the winter cold and rains. |

When I first was thrust into the ranks of the so-called "homeless", I had the typical fears - of exposure to the elements, of becoming a non-person in society, of being the victim of violence or theft. This was compounded by the reputation of the Wood Street encampment in West Oakland, which is vast and dark, and had the reputation for being the toughest homeless encampment in the toughest City.
The prospect of depending on a soft structure in a hard environment was all the more scary.
I found a mound of grassy dirt and broken cement, and leveled off the top to make a 9 x 12 foot space for the basic dome camping tent. Then I built a simple frame of two-by-fours, and filled it with pieces of broken cement that littered the landscape. The broken cement provided adequate drainage, and the rise of the mound placed me above the flood and the mud.
I then placed sofa cushions that I had found in the vast waste stream of illegally dumped materials, and laid them on top of the broken cement, then added a layer of carpet, to create a soft floor to protect me from the jagged edges of the cement foundation. Then I erected the simple dome tent on the cushion layer, added found blankets on top of the tent, as an insulation layer, and placed two tent flys as the third layer, to protect against rain. Then I placed a large piece of four-way stretch cotton jersey fabric, re-purposed from the original Burning Man prior unity dome, as the fourth and final layer..
I made the stretch fabric and tent fly extend about 6 feet further than the length of the tent, to provide a small front "porch", to give me a dry place to take shoes on and off when it is raining, or to lounge and receive guests in fair weather.
The top layer of stretch fabric was only a few inches from the tent, and this provided a dead air layer that added to the effectiveness of the insulation. The stretch fabric reflected the sunlight off of its white surface, keeping it habitable on the hottest, sunniest days. And the stretchiness and toughness of the material enabled it to absorb the strongest winds, and distribute the impact of the wind evenly over its entire surface, which prevented any ripping or tearing of the top layer, and protected the camping tent from the effects of sun and wind. The cotton stretch fabric also keeps the entire shelter amazingly quiet in any wind.
Right on cue, the winter cold and rains began. I discovered that after getting inside the dome and zipping up the front door, my body heat alone made the interior cozy and comfortable during the coldest, wettest nights. The softness of the floor and materials, combined with the round womb-like shape, won me over as my preferred living space, more desirable than any of the standard houses I have lived in, which, now, feel boxy and uptight.
Electricity was provided by a complicated network of extension cords, originating from a tap into one of the City light posts. Since both the City of Oakland, and the local utility, refused to provide us with electricity even if we paid for it, that one 20 amp tap provided all the electricity for about 50 people. This meant that only a small trickle of amperage reached me where I was at, and the whole system had break-downs and sabotage on virtually a daily basis. But this arrangement got me through my first winter, in my new phase of life.
The prospect of depending on a soft structure in a hard environment was all the more scary.
I found a mound of grassy dirt and broken cement, and leveled off the top to make a 9 x 12 foot space for the basic dome camping tent. Then I built a simple frame of two-by-fours, and filled it with pieces of broken cement that littered the landscape. The broken cement provided adequate drainage, and the rise of the mound placed me above the flood and the mud.
I then placed sofa cushions that I had found in the vast waste stream of illegally dumped materials, and laid them on top of the broken cement, then added a layer of carpet, to create a soft floor to protect me from the jagged edges of the cement foundation. Then I erected the simple dome tent on the cushion layer, added found blankets on top of the tent, as an insulation layer, and placed two tent flys as the third layer, to protect against rain. Then I placed a large piece of four-way stretch cotton jersey fabric, re-purposed from the original Burning Man prior unity dome, as the fourth and final layer..
I made the stretch fabric and tent fly extend about 6 feet further than the length of the tent, to provide a small front "porch", to give me a dry place to take shoes on and off when it is raining, or to lounge and receive guests in fair weather.
The top layer of stretch fabric was only a few inches from the tent, and this provided a dead air layer that added to the effectiveness of the insulation. The stretch fabric reflected the sunlight off of its white surface, keeping it habitable on the hottest, sunniest days. And the stretchiness and toughness of the material enabled it to absorb the strongest winds, and distribute the impact of the wind evenly over its entire surface, which prevented any ripping or tearing of the top layer, and protected the camping tent from the effects of sun and wind. The cotton stretch fabric also keeps the entire shelter amazingly quiet in any wind.
Right on cue, the winter cold and rains began. I discovered that after getting inside the dome and zipping up the front door, my body heat alone made the interior cozy and comfortable during the coldest, wettest nights. The softness of the floor and materials, combined with the round womb-like shape, won me over as my preferred living space, more desirable than any of the standard houses I have lived in, which, now, feel boxy and uptight.
Electricity was provided by a complicated network of extension cords, originating from a tap into one of the City light posts. Since both the City of Oakland, and the local utility, refused to provide us with electricity even if we paid for it, that one 20 amp tap provided all the electricity for about 50 people. This meant that only a small trickle of amperage reached me where I was at, and the whole system had break-downs and sabotage on virtually a daily basis. But this arrangement got me through my first winter, in my new phase of life.