Ten years ago, could you have predicted what you’d be doing at this moment? If the answer is yes, then good for you (or not, as the case may be). For me, it’s an ongoing surprise.
Not that all the surprises are earth shattering, mind you. Here’s an example: I’m in the market for a custom ute tray toolbox. Melbourne has a pretty impressive ute loving culture, and I’m happy to be a part of that. To give you a bit more context, I’m not a trades-person, nor am I any kind of weekend off-road adventurer. I’m just a gal with too many cans of spray paint and a mildly unusual way of making a living.
I’m regularly commissioned to produce murals, and I like to have all my paints in ride ready to go, but I’m tired of them rolling out of their crates and getting mixed up. I’ve even had some of them stolen from under my soft tray cover – a real pain in the neck, given that these cans are the tools of my trade, and they’re not exactly cheap.
Anyway, it’s occurred to me of late that I am, fact, a tradie of sorts. Having a Masters degree from a highly regarded art school doesn’t exclude me from inclusion in that category, given what I do for a living. And seeing as my ute is my work vehicle, it makes sense that I should kit it out appropriately.
Adding ute tray accessories like this toolbox is just the tip of the iceberg. I’m dreaming of adding a tray canopy, complete with slide-out draws, racks and interior lighting, plus a solid fitout of roof racks and bars for my ladders. I’ve never been one to do things by halves, once I’ve got an idea in mind, and I’m sensing that this will be no exception.
Point is, when I decided to study art, I never pictured my future self equipped with this type of vehicular rig. And yet here I am, about to climb a 10 metre ladder in a fluoro vest and contemplating whether my toolbox needs central locking.