I was thinking about how much trust is involved when we’re working on things. That there are moments where we need to trust in the process and that what we face is a part of a larger plan. In a hobby that is so focused on the pragmatism of how we do things we sometimes neglect a natural cycle that crashes against the shores of our benchwork like a winter ocean’s waves; a series of emotional highs and lows that move us forward and draw us back by forces so great they’re like a force of gravitational passion.
In the name of progress I like to permit a very non-linear series of steps to layout work. That means in some parts of the layout there’s finished track that I’m so proud of I just can’t stop staring at it and, in others, we’re barely past gluing cork to foam. This evening I’ve been working on fitting ties and feeder wires, concentrating on the area where the first two modules (sections) fit together. I should have just laid the track straight across this but didn’t. Yup, I know.
I’m busy dribbling glue into this ballast. Because it’s so saturated with glue everything looks more intense and, just a little, garish. The area of this isn’t much bigger than shows in the above photograph. I caught myself thinking about how wrong this looks, how far away from my vision this looks, how screwed up it looks.
Just a car length to the right of my little garish wonderland of self doubt and anxiety is The Turnout. I’m so proud of this. I love looking at it. I can see some detail I still want to add but this is already some of the nicest work I’ve ever done. The layers of colour and texture here feel right to me.
If I waited to clear phases of layout construction completely I wouldn’t have reference points to help me get through; little reminders that it’s okay to trust in things that may not look right, right now, and know that if I keep working, keep contributing, that investment is enriching the return when its ready. A bigger plan. Revealed when it’s ready. Accepting it, trusting it, and relaxing into it.
It feels good