Fresh from completing my capstone projects and buoyed by newfound confidence, I felt compelled to act. Driven by an intuition I couldn't explain, I brought my wife and newborn to the stark 1907 black lava flow at the southernmost edge of the Big Island—a decision that, on the surface, made little sense.
I tried to rationalize my actions, telling myself that I needed land to explore Christopher Alexander’s vision and to build a home shaped by the principles of A Pattern Language.
Yet, as I immersed myself in A Pattern Language, I discovered something remarkable: the methodology feels almost alive, as though it responds to your intentions and adapts to your evolving vision.
Eventually, I came to see that my seemingly odd choice was rooted in a broader context: the 1976 UN Conference on Human Settlements, which introduced site-and-service projects as innovative solutions for developing nations.
This concept returned minimalist design to its social origins, now focused on uplifting impoverished communities rather than industrial workers. In reflecting honestly, I realized that my understanding was theoretical—I had never fully experienced the realities of living within a minimalist site-and-service framework.
My involvement in developing the CED Habitat Manifesto (1976) was, in fact, the true source of my call to venture into the wild.
