So tell me, how do you like your retrofitted shipping container dwellings to be arranged?
Stacked two high and politely camouflaged
as to “fit in?”
Positioned in the shape of a cross?
If that last one sounds at all appealing, you’ll appreciate Georgian designer Dachi Papuashvili’s micro-home concept dubbed Skit 2014
. As you can see, this tiny off-grid dwelling is composed of two wood-clad retired shipping containers that intersect at just above the middle to form a sort of habitable cross.
And although Papuashvili relays to Dezeen
that “despite the similarity of the cross form it is not linked with religious symbols” it would seem that the structure’s distinctly rood-ish profile is a shoo-in for meditative, perhaps devotional, activities. It's also worth mentioning that "skit" is an alternate word for skete
, a type of monastic community found in Eastern Christianity.
Tbilisi-based Papuashvili, whose past design concepts include mountainous monasteries and vegetative alleyways, describes the “energetically independent” — the self-sufficient abode sports olar panels and rainwater collectors atop its roof — cozy cross-cum-cabin as being “best for both: churchmen and laymen. Here are all conditions for a long term living, but also may serve for short-term isolations (for fasting, scientific or translating works, icon paintings, etc.)"
Whoever it may be that winds up taking residence in Skit 2014, be it monk, yogi, naturalist, artist, Thoreau wannabe, or generalized loner, it’s probably best that they be on the sprightly side as there are no traditional stairs (no room for 'em!) within the single-occupancy structure; a single ladder connects each of the four tiny floors: a storage area/entryway on the first level where the rainwater reservoirs and solar batteries are housed; a compact bathroom with composting toilet on the second; the relatively spacious third floor spanning the entire length of the horizontally positioned shipping container that includes a kitchen, bedroom, living area, and study; and the fourth level where you’ll find a 13-square-foot “room for pray" and a roof deck.
And if things get a wee bit claustrophobic inside this petite hermitage, Papuashvili has incorporated an expansive elevated deck into the design of the structure so one can enjoy a bit of fresh air and scenery while mulling over all of those profound thoughts.
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