Looking back at this photo, it almost looks like I'm waiting for the door of the camper to open. And now more than ever in my life, it's an incredibly moving image. I remember grabbing my best friend's husband, who was taking pictures of scenery, and asking for a picture with this camper. I didn't know what I wanted to do with it, I just felt this strong desire to have my picture taken, specifically...with it. That's why I'm just awkwardly staring at it, I didn't know what to do.
Only recently, since the birth of my daughter, do I feel like I have actually started truly living, and right now, in this moment, I feel like the doors to this camper have metaphorically opened and all the inspiration I felt being near it are flowing through and out of me into the world. Seems mushy I know. But it's the truth.
This is the story behind the my inspiration.
Long before I ever dreamed of this company, I was meandering around my father-in-law's property in Montana. He owns this beautiful piece of land that sits on a hill in a tiny town called Eureka. I was in the middle of day-dreaming when I took a left around a shed and there it sat. It's definitely not in good shape; some windows are broken, the paint is peeling, and I'm pretty sure it's only inhabitants are bugs and rodents. But I instantly fell in love with it. I begged for someone to let me in it, but was told the key was likely lost. It hadn't been entered in years, and it probably stank...horribly. I was also told it wasn't worth saving and that the cost to fix it up definitely outweighs the cost to buy one new. But I didn't care. That's the thing about inspiration. It comes from the most random places, and speaks directly to the heart of its inspired, and makes no logical sense to anyone else.
Weeks after we came home from this trip, I was still thinking of the camper. At the time, I had an antique booth that I shared with my mother, so I decided to carve out the camper into a stamp and use it on my tags in the booth. I didn't know why, there was no theme really. I just wanted to honor the object that had been consuming my mind. So I headed to Michael's after work to get a stamp carving set. Apparently, Michael's doesn't carry stamp carving sets. I could literally do anything else there, except carve stamps. Seriously? So I got the biggest eraser I could find and some clay carving tools (hey they have to be similar right?). I drew the image in pencil on the eraser and began carving it out. It's a very rough carving, but I was so proud of myself: I actually made something. As a not-so-gifted, but always-hopeful crafter, this was a big deal. I started using my creation on everything. A stamp here, a stamp there, wherever was applicable. The close of an envelope (even bills), the tags for the shop, random papers, whatever. Later I glued a wine cork handle to it and it became easier to use (again, super proud of myself). Over time, I stopped contributing to the antique booth and the stamp blended into the disarray of my office.
In August of 2015, I launched this company. A few months ago, I was cleaning out my office space and came across my once-beloved stamp. Immediately re-inspired by it, I started designing my own logo. I had paid for a number of professional designs but none of them felt quite right. I worked hard on this one, and I wanted it to be centered around my camper, my inspiration, my project. And it is. And I love it. And I think you'll love it too.
To me, this camper represents sustainable living in it's entirety. Tiny living inside, big living outside, small footprint, less waste, creative use of time and space, and the ultimate freedom from the chains of things and money. These are the concepts I value, and these are the gifts I want to share with you.
The Deep Green Shop now represents on the outside what it always represented on the inside in my heart, and it is deeply personal. It's amazing what something as simple as a logo can do.
I still dream of the day I can take that orange creamcicle camper home and lovingly restore it. Until then, I see it in my dreams (and every day at work).