Wayne Bingham - Shelter: An Architects Journey into Sustainability

To Colleen, muse, companion, the love of my life, and constant support in our journey into sustainability.

Acknowledgment

Colleen Smith has shared life with me for over twenty-nine years. This is really our story because all events have included a deep collaboration between us. Without her presence and constant support the arch of the story would have taken a very different tack. She has allowed the arch of the story to take on its form. Our voyage would have reached a very different port had it not been for her love and companionship.

This story would not have been set down without Bill Steen. It was he who first suggested this story.

I am grateful for Evelyn and Jay Bingham who read the first, faltering drafts and suggested reorganizing the sequence of events and sparked renewed confidence in me to continue writing. They saw that the story had meaning and should be told.

Vicki Varela assisted in moving me from clinical expression to the concept of the first draft and indicated that I do have a voice. Her words have encouraged this effort.

And this book could not have come about without Christopher Robbins. He listened and accepted the idea for the story, and then guided me through the first drafts toward story telling. His whole-hearted support of the manuscript allowed it to emerge to its current form.

I appreciate the efforts of Bill Steen who graciously consented to read and make comments for the cover.

My thanks as well to Lindsay Sandberg, who at the starting gate of the editing process said, My name is Lindsay and I am so excited to work with you on your book. I have read it and think that it is fantastic. She has guided me through the editing process with timely suggestions, corrections to diction, recommendations to delete or move parts of the story, and offered unfaltering support and enthusiasm.

Prologue

Coming Home

Salt Lake City, Utah, May 25, 2013 . We have our list of things to do for we are returning to Our Place in Idaho. As time passes, there is an increasing need to write lists, review them, and check them off before setting off on a new adventure. For the next two days, the list included washing and packing our clothing and boxing the computers, cameras, food, and tools. Our dentist, dermatologist, and optometrist all gave us a clean bill of health.

Before we leave for Idaho each year we also try to touch base with friends and family. We go to dinner with my brother Jay and his wife, Evelyn, to celebrate his eighty-second birthday. Sitting at the Red Butte Caf with them feels so good. Both Jay and Evelyn are filled with love. You can feel it with each hug and handshake.

Colleen and I had found the Red Butte Caf several years ago when deciding to go out and eat for dinner. Where? was our usual question on date night, and Lets just find someplace was the typical response. We backed out of the driveway, turned left, then right at the corner, and left again at the stop signthere it was, now our favorite restaurant. It has been months since we had relaxed with Jay and Evelyn in an unhurried time together. The delicious southwest chicken salad tasted as good as ever while we caught up with all the happenings in each others families, our health, and our future plans.

This morning I got up at five and started boxing the computers, the books, and my toiletries. After breakfast and a shower, Colleen packed all food items in coolers and bags, and Mariathis years volunteer youth educator at Wasatch Community Gardens and our house sitter for the summerhelped pack the truck and car. She will be watching our home and our two cats, Midnight and Lily, in Salt Lake while we live in our strawbale home in peaceful Teton Valley, Idaho, for the summer months.

The road is familiar after eleven years of driving to Felt. We leave our winter home, the city, its traffic and noise, and head north on interstate I-15, Colleen in our car and I in the truck. I listen to a discussion on creativity on National Public Radio as the miles roll by. Now free of the city I have only the road, the wind, and the clouds to accompany my thinking, to slow my pace to the rhythm of the rolling hills, the mountains, and the sky. I am looking forward and one thought persists as the rest fades into the rearview mirrors: How will Our Place be after our long winter absence? How will it have fared the wind and the snow?

The Wasatch Mountains are on my right, still capped with snow, the lower hills turning a light shade of green. The Great Salt Lake passes on the left in the distance. The signs of urbanity diminish. There are fewer cars and trucks on the freeway and the bombardment of billboards no longer fights for my attention.

The GPS indicates that I will be home, at Our Place, at 4:14 p.m. I am on schedule. Our neighbor Brian, who welcomes us yearly with open arms and willing hands, texted me that he can assist me this afternoon in removing the door shutters and bring in the boxes from the truck.

My anticipation builds. We are returning to Our Place, our beautiful home that came into being as the result of a dream. The realization of a dream. A dream that grew from a desire to create a place consistent with our highest aspirations. Colleen and I had had unfulfilled dreams, but this dream was finally standing complete, underpinned by the strength of our love for each other.

The earth from which our dream grew is composed of many elements and has many nutrients. I was educated and became licensed as an architect. I practiced architecture for thirty years. At the beginning of my career, I was under the tutelage of an architect I considered the best in the world. Later I worked on projects for other architects, both large and small: corporate buildings, museums, even prisons.

Somewhere in the latter part of those thirty years as an architect, I became aware of the concept of sustainability. I delved into the implications of where we obtain our materials, the limits of the earth to supply them, and the impact of our building on the climate and the environment. During this search that I call our Odysseybecause it was a voyage of discoveryI found a system of building that anyone with enough desire and determination could use, which was consistent with my concept of sustainability, durability, beauty, and functionality. These are the elements of the earth from which our intent grew and our dream became reality. We wanted a home for ourselves to express and embody this dream.

As my truck got closer to Our Place, I began to wonder at the changes to not only the land, but to myself. Time away with opportunities to design and observe the construction of other buildings gave me additional perspective about my expectations and my dreams.

Does our place still occupy the same level of satisfaction that we experienced when we completed it and moved in?

From experience, I know that joy mellows over time. The dream can change. Anticipation becomes the reality of doing, and the result sits on the earth and ages. Will it be as satisfying now as it was when we stood on the threshold of our dream, or will the softening and mellowing of time diminish its meaning to us?

I could describe the emotional feelings in building Our Place like falling in love. We experience a magnificent high when first we fall in love. Our affection matures over time and develops deeper and wider significance. The high changes into something with greater meaning.