So Let's Talk Buildings.

The last few posts have been heavy. Necessarily so, given what life has thrown at me lately, and I need to go someplace else for a while. Architecture it is.

My daydreams about True North have ranged from new construction on rural acreage to adaptive reuse of urban buildings. True North is never far from my mind, so sometimes the flashes come from seemingly nowhere — triggered by nothing in particular other than things that cross my path as part of any given Tuesday.

The possible forms are endless. And that's a good thing. True North's founders will decide the form together, once we've done the harder work of figuring out who we are to each other.

More on that in a minute.

New Construction: The Sims Approach

In the Sims video game, you build exactly what you want, where you want it, in a landscape that adapts to your vision. New construction is the real world version of that — with all the same creative freedom but considerably more paperwork.

New construction gives you things no other form can. Everything is built to fit the vision — you inherit no one else's decisions, you choose the quality of every material and every system, everything is up to current code and incorporates current technology, and you start with warranties across the board.

But new construction front-loads costs that go far beyond the per-unit price. Trenching water lines. Running power to a rural parcel. Roads. Septic systems. The unglamorous line items that eat the budget before a single wall goes up. And beyond the financial weight, there's a relational one: new construction requires hundreds of consequential decisions made by a group of strong women still building trust with each other, using a governance model most of them won't have practiced yet.

Here's where my brain wandered playing the Sims: True North version:

• Tiny house village — foundation-built, Park Model or wheeled tiny/small homes clustered on acreage: classic IC vision, privacy and autonomy maximized

• Barndominium — large shared structure adaptable as living suites, common space, or both: efficient use of budget, cost effective and durable materials

• Motel-style plaza construction — adjacent living suites around a central commons: single level living, communal feel around a central space

• Townhomes — small footprint/higher density buildings in urban settings: more density, possibly with municipal development incentives

Common buildings are a given, not an afterthought — the timeline depends on resources and sequence, but the vision includes dedicated space for shared meals, wellness, and creative work across virtually every medium imaginable. Check out the FAQs for some ideas on common areas.

Adaptive Reuse: The MacGyver Approach

MacGyver didn't look at a paperclip and see a paperclip. He saw eight different tools, constrained only by physics and ingenuity.

Adaptive reuse asks the same thing of us — look at what already exists and ask what else it could be. Not building from a blank slate, but inheriting one that already has a story — and making it yours.

Adaptive reuse gives us more bang for our collective resources. It's easier on the environment. It bounds the decision-making in ways that can relieve pressure on new relationships — the bones are given, which means the building holds some of the choices for you. And the place already has a life in whatever community surrounds it. The neighbors know it, have feelings about it, memories of it. Our presence continues a conversation that started before we arrived.

The costs are real too. We work within a defined footprint. We may inherit costly surprises from deferred maintenance. Cultural resistance is possible. Converting non-residential structures to residential requires specialized expertise. Zoning changes in established neighborhoods can be harder fights than rural rezoning.

Here's where my brain wandered when I channeled my inner MacGyver:

• Motel/vintage hotel — already set up for separate living suites, may have common areas; livable while transitioning to full-time residential zoning

• B&B conversion — established living suites with comfortable gathering areas, kitchen and dining room for group meals

• Historic mansion — full of character and stories, built for communal living

• Warehouse/industrial loft — established conversion model makes finding an experienced architect easier

• Decommissioned school — lots of big open rooms for living and common areas; may have commercial kitchen and space for public events

• Church — interesting architecture and history within the wider community to build on

• Kenosha WI Historic Masonic Temple — striking architecture with facilities for public gatherings and activities; bring balance to the Force of gender equality and accessibility

• RV park — easiest conversion to THOW village, power, septic and water connections ready to go

• Campground — some site prep already done, beautiful environment by design

The categories blur at the edges, as they should. An existing RV park is adaptive reuse of infrastructure repurposed for a community its developer never imagined. A B&B that slowly becomes True North is new construction of relationships inside an existing shell. MacGyver would approve.

The Hard Work Isn't the Buildings

Here's the thing about all of this: the external work — zoning codes, architect plans, material choices, infrastructure costs — is complex. But it's knowable. There are guidelines and precedents and professionals who have done it before. You can look things up. You can hire expertise. You can follow a process.

The internal work has no manual.

Understanding our own values, our priorities, our non-negotiables and the things we can budge on. How we share space and stay private within it. How we argue and how we heal. What we owe each other and what we reserve for ourselves. This is the work that matters most — and it has to come first. The form follows the values, not the other way around.

The primary contribution each founder makes to True North is not her finances, or a specific skill set — though both matter. It's herself. Her individual scars, strengths, vulnerabilities, and daydreams. The self-knowledge she's accumulated through whatever life has thrown at her. The willingness to show up whole rather than curated; authentically rather than performatively.

I've laid out many of my own non-negotiables on the True North website. Not because they're fixed forever, but because going first is me leading with vulnerability and asking everyone else to be courageous too.

The women I'm looking for are not fear-less. They're afraid and they do the thing anyway, because they've decided that something matters more than the fear.

Now It's Your Turn

I've shown you my daydreams. The motel with the horseshoe plaza. The Masonic Temple with the grand staircases. The schoolhouse where someone's bedroom used to be a classroom.

What do you see when you close your eyes?

Maybe it's a specific building you drove past once and couldn't stop thinking about. Maybe it's a floor plan that's been living in your head for years. Maybe it's something nobody has built yet and you've been embarrassed to say out loud.

Say it out loud.

Come play with me. The brainstorming gets more powerful when it's shared. And the women I'm looking for are exactly the ones who feel the pull of that invitation, hesitate for just a moment, and respond anyway.

Show me what you've got.