I made this short film with some (maybe too few) clips from that month and a half on the road, living the dream together.  While editing it I remembered how much we enjoyed all of it. The endless talks while driving, hours singing, and those mornings where I went to look for ice while you made the coffee and then we’d drink iced lattes together. And I remembered our little home — her — that amazing truck that was our house, our shelter, our everything for so long, our safe little universe. Those few square meters, those walls and those wheels that took us everywhere.

I remembered the way we laughed at ourselves and our nonsense, when we went with the flow so hard we ended up in absolutely random situations, when our only concern was “what music do we wanna put on?” and “where do we want to park today?” And those ridiculous fits of laughter trying to maneuver her, the times the cabinets flew open and everything we owned just fell on the floor, and we’d look at each other like “there goes literally everything we have.” And having to crawl to the back to pick it all up while you kept driving (and I got a bit dizzy), or having to dump the water tank, or pulling over on the side of the road to pour jugs of water over ourselves because it was just too fucking hot.
And that as how, between the glances, the chaos, and the little fuck-ups, we became family.

I wanna sleep there again, anywhere, in our home that wasn’t a home, that was everything and nothing at the same time.

Thank you Flor, I love you forever.