Behind the Scenes: How I Create in a 1990 Shuttle Bus
Crafting in a 1990 Ford E350 Shuttle Bus π✨ might sound impossible, but let me assure you—it’s not only possible, it’s kind of magical. Working in Wildebeest means I’ve learned to adapt, improvise, and embrace the quirks of a tiny, rolling space, and I want to give you a peek behind the scenes at how it really works. π¨π
The first thing anyone notices is…space is tight. But for me, tight isn’t a limitation—it’s a challenge I actually enjoy. Every project I take on requires thinking about how to move, where to sit, and how to use the surfaces around me. My foldable table becomes a crafting station, my lap is a second workspace, and sometimes the countertop doubles as a palette or cutting area. I’ve even learned to shift projects slightly mid-creation when the bus rocks or when I need to reach something else. It’s all part of the rhythm of creating on the road. π
Creating in this space also means staying flexible with materials and tools. If something doesn’t fit where I thought it would, I improvise. A paintbrush might sit in a cup on the dashboard, or paper might need to be held down by a mug while glue dries. It’s a constant dance of making the space work for me, instead of trying to force the space to fit my usual routines. π¨✨
One of the things I love most about crafting in Wildebeest is how intentional it makes every move. I can’t just leave a project half-finished on a large table—I have to think about each step: what can stay out, what needs to be tucked away, and how to make sure nothing spills while I work. That slow, deliberate process has actually made me more mindful in my crafting, and it feels kind of special. π«Ά
And yes, storage still matters—it keeps everything organized and prevents chaos—but it’s more about making sure the small space doesn’t limit creativity. Rolling bins, stackable containers, and little drawers are lifesavers, but the real magic happens when I figure out how to create fluidly in the moment: maneuvering around the bus, adjusting lighting, balancing materials, and letting ideas flow even when space is tight. π‘
Some days, the process itself is part of the fun. Cutting fabric while perched on the edge of the recliner, painting a tiny canvas on a lap desk, or carefully layering paper on the counter—it all feels like a little puzzle I get to solve every day. And when a project finally comes together, there’s this amazing feeling of accomplishment: not just because I made something beautiful, but because I did it in a tiny, moving home that also serves as my office, kitchen, and adventure-mobile. ππ
Crafting in Wildebeest has taught me a lot about adaptability, patience, and creativity under constraints. Every project feels intentional, every finished piece feels earned, and every day is an opportunity to make something special in a space that moves with me. And honestly? That’s a feeling I wouldn’t trade for a traditional craft room. ✨π¨π
So, if you’ve ever wondered how crafting actually works inside a shuttle bus, now you know: it’s flexible, deliberate, a little wobbly, and full of joy. Wildebeest may be small, but she’s packed with creativity, ideas, and love—and I’m so lucky to call her home and my studio. π






