A reporter reflects on the Tiny House Movement
By Sarah Protzman Howlett
I’ve always, always loved small spaces. As a kid, I’d scoop up my dolls, Walkman, blanket and pillow, and move into the half-bathroom, settling into the tub with a Beverly Cleary book. It sounds silly, but it was freedom: I could fit every thing I needed into that room. Years later, when I moved to New York City, I was largely unfazed by my 7-by-11-foot bedroom. (It only took 60 seconds to Swiffer—what’s not to love?)
So last fall when I found myself in Boulder with filmmaker Christopher Smith and his 130 square feet of freedom, I couldn’t have been more excited to talk tiny with a kindred spirit for an article in Denver’s 5280. The duo’s project will become a documentary called Tiny: A Story About Living Small, out this spring. When it’s complete, the house will sit on five acres near Fairplay, Colorado.
Smith and his girlfriend, Merete Mueller, invited me to observe as they labored under a steamy sky one Sunday. My hand stuck to my notebook as I wrote furiously, recording everything about the house. Red paint on the outside bids you welcome; the indoor wood siding feels and smells like your favorite uncle’s cabin. Though only the exterior was complete at the time, Smith showed me where the bathroom, lofted bed, and built-in shelves would go, and told me about their sustainability efforts, such as using beetle-kill pine. What surprised me about Smith’s tiny house is how even with exposed wires, sawdust on the floor, and camera equipment strewn about, the space already felt like a home.
