Notes of Substance

On a recent sunny Sunday, I walk through the park on my way to get Nan’s lamp fixed. Families are having picnics on the grass. ‘Can we fix it? Can we fix it? Can we fix it?’ drums in my head as I crunch across the gravel towards the Repair Cafe , a little hub where volunteers work their magic on broken stuff.  In my bag, I’ve got a lamp that’s dodgy and a globe that works. My fear in bringing the lamp for repair is that when they plug it in, it will blow the powerboard up. My nerves sizzle. The world seems to be short-circuiting. Repair Cafe volunteers help repair things, from toasters, to cushion zips to stereos. They keep rubbish out of landfill; save consumers from buying new products; and cross-pollinate a community of people who tinker, rebuild, deconstruct and recreate objects.   Around the world, there are over 1500 Repair Cafe centres, working towards reducing waste, sharing knowledge, repairing items and fostering communities. The first cafe started in 2009, and The Repair

From my bed, propped up with cushions and with my fancy headphones on, I sip gin and watch the screen as I sing an arrangement of Ball Park Music’s Surrender. “It’s OK, it’s alright, true terror in the middle of the night, give in if it makes you feel better. So surrender, so surrender.” On the Facebook livestream members of our choir make comments and jokes, or poke the emoji button until we are swirling in a sea of hearts. In my little house, my family stack the dishwasher and play with the dog. But I’m “at choir”, singing while ginning, connecting to voices, virtually. Sophia Exiner has run Melbourne Indie Voices for the past three years with technical director and guitarist, Josh Teicher. Starting out in her front room with a small group of 30, there are now more than 250 of us, rehearsing over three nights in a Collingwood studio. “We’ve tried to build a community with the choir,” she says. “It’s a unique space for connection and also a chance to let go.” But now the world is shu