I love my toaster. My friend Juliana, to whom I defer in all matters related to interior decorating, is less enamoured. She thinks I need a black one rather than the shiny chrome device. I like that my toaster is unapologetically a machine. It is literally screwed together, and I like that every single piece is replaceable. I like that the timer is clockwork and that the toast has to be lifted mechanically with a lever. I also like that you can strike the lever hard to make the toast fly free of the machine.
It is proper. It works, and it is repairable. As I approach a birthday signalling my eligibility for seniors’ housing developments, the idea that when bits go wrong they can be replaced is strangely comforting. It just works harmoniously, unlike the ridiculous Wi-Fi camera in my oven.
One thing I love about my toaster is that I can strike the lever hard to make the toast fly free.Credit:Christopher Nielsen
I watched another machine in harmony over the weekend: the magnificent Horns Plus Big Band. Playing mechanical brass instruments, they sounded anything but. But it was the dazzling singing of Meredith O’Reilly that really made my toast fly.
Surrounded (and not a little intimidated) as I was in room of celebrated creative talents, whip-smart designers, photographers, Helpmann Award winners and nominees, and musicians, I was inspired by the joy that happens when talent meets hard work and dedication; when the parts of the machine gel.
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Most of the musicians, despite their evident talent, have other jobs to sustain them. Some apparently teach music, others do other things. As we know, COVID has been cruel to performers. However, this was a potent reminder that the dreary old cliche of “follow your passion” fails to appreciate the realities of needing to follow your appetite and put food on the table. But it is not either or. Just because your passion may not (for now) permit you to devote all of your time to it does not mean it should be abandoned.
There is something animating and attractive that happens when people get to express their passions and talent. The band and singer were swinging. This was not for statics. One of my favourite artists, Jean Tinguely, wrote a manifesto for statics in 1959, explaining that “Everything moves continuously. Immobility does not exist … Resist the anxious wish to fix the instantaneous, to kill that which is living.” Much of his art involved kinetic mechanical sculptures – amazing machines from which art and artistry emerge, much like the big band and the singer.
For me, it was yet another reminder that work is a potent way to express our talents, and in so doing attract, connect and move others. It is when we are stuck, trapped, stymied or confined that we become static. There are always opportunities to express ourselves, even if our nine to five existence is not the machine that permits it. Finding opportunities that really push our levers lets the toast fly free! If the toast gets stuck, our careers are, well, toast.
Jim Bright, FAPS is Professor of Career Education and Development at ACU and owns Bright and Associates, a Career Management Consultancy. Email to opinion@jimbright.com. Follow him on Twitter @DrJimBright
