All the modern conveniences

Mother is led to the sudden treehouse.
Shipwrecked. At risk from the wild. A family to protect.
Take off the blindfold!

Program: 
1. Living space in the trees, accessible by retracting stair
2. Enclosed bedroom for Mother and Father
3. Boys room
4. Cultivated living/working space

OH!

How’s this?

All the latest innovations; running water, genuine imported tortoise shell. And not forgetting the cooler! See how it works, Mother? Look- The big wheel, turns the little wheel up there, the cup pours the water into the shell, it runs down the bamboo, and feeds the sink and the cooler.

I… I can’t believe it!!

And this is something I worked out; when you’re in for the night, turn the wheel, pull up the stairs!

Remember this? I built it for us

Don’t tell me you pull this to ring for the butler?

Here, I’ll show you

Now you can lay here and look at the stars.

Don’t you remember, that summer we went to Interlaken, you said that someday, if you had your wish, you’d sleep each night so that you could see the stars?

It’s so wonderful, I don’t deserve it

Former Huston-Tillotson University professor Jeff Wilson lived in a dumpster for a year to prove that you can live in an area 1% the size of the median sized new house.

“The dumpster is a metaphor for the dichotomy between our sacred space (where we live) and the waste we throw away. The crap we don’t want disappears when we toss it in a dumpster.” Bringing together such disparate elements “serves as a symbol and a surprise.”

Wilson and his students were restricted in their practice because the imperative was to break the symbols; “dumpster” “house” “professor”. When I asked a student docent why they hadn’t wrapped it in insulation, they explained that it was important to be recognizable a dumpster.

Now, we are free to consider it more like an octopus might address their first coconut shell. How can I live in and be protected by this? How can they go together? What do they restrict and encourage? How can they be improved?