We model railroaders work in a very visual medium. Despite the fact that our work is all akin to sculpture, when sharing it with others we often rely on aids to extend or otherwise provide context for what we’ve made, reasoning that these descriptive aids help extend our work beyond the borders of the benchwork or situate it “in the real world”. As if the work itself was never good enough to stand on its own without the shelter or protection of our words.
I try to describe my feelings on this but often fall short. The title of this post is the closing sentence in an essay Edward Tufte wrote. The essay is not about model trains but so perfectly provides words where I can’t to describe something important to me and something I think about quite often. In that way I wanted to share it.
I feel the difference here is between the importance of appreciating the great thing the modeler has created without being qualified through the inspiration.
Here’s the link to the essay: