A Broken Windscreen and a Studio

Just a warning before we continue. This post is a bit personal so if you don’t want sappy stories then I urge you to skip this blog post.


I didn’t run as studio in the past. As a matter of fact, I was like the majority of people in the world. A peon. A simple person who was just a cog in the wheel doing his stuff to pitch in. I couldn’t tell if I was happy or not. If you asked me then, I would have just given you a blank expression.

See, I went to work everyday without as much as a whimper. I would never come in late and I would always welcome tasks being handed down to me. For a lot of people this was obviously me telling the world that I am happy with my job.

But I never wanted to move. I never felt the motivation to move. I was just there, working. No dreams of getting a promotion or going for another job. For me, at that time, it paid the bills and that was good enough for me.

Well, up until one fateful day.

See, I have been driving my car for over 5 years then. It was an older car I bought from a friend of a friend. For a 10+ year old car, it didn’t really give me any headaches. It would take me to work when I needed him to and he would be waiting for my at the parking lot when I was done. He was there for me.

One day, while driving, from out of nowhere came a rock as big as my fists. At that time I didn’t know where it came from but it shattered my windscreen. Big deal. Windscreens can be replaced at http://windscreenreplacementperthwa.com.au quite easily.

When I took it to the shop, a visiting mechanic who was a friend of the windscreen guy checked my car. It was then I realized that it was more than just a windscreen replacement. One by one, the mechanic pointed out the problems in my car. He said that getting it all repaired will cost me a lot of money. When I asked him how long til the problem gets the better of my car, he said a few months.

Then it hit me.

I was my car. I was broken inside but nobody really knows. Not even me. That mechanic me telling me about my car’s problem was my broken windscreen moment.

I knew what I had to do. I quit my job and went on pursuing what I wanted – to paint.

Today, I manage a studio where I also display my work. That day stuck to me like pasta on Pasta day.

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