WE CAN’T SEE THE WOOD FOR THE TREES

“So we all become obsessed with our own corner of this little world. We concentrate on the areas that we shouldn’t at the expense of those that perhaps will cause less angst, less argument and more pleasure”

Building models is not unique in bringing out the anal in us all, but it is certainly a fine example to share with friends to whom a small missing detail, or fleck of dust on the surface of a painted wing, is more likely to raise a belly laugh, than an eyebrow of understanding. You have to be part of our world to understand and maybe, just maybe, you have to be part of our world to realise that such things are really rather silly.

It would be unbecoming of me to suggest to you that I have never fallen foul of such minor obsessions. The list of models that I have never finished and put away, repainted, or smashed with a hammer after finding a small blemish that would be invisible to anyone but myself, is as long as it is painful, so I am most certainly part of the story. Even when up against deadlines that don’t allow for such things as repaints — or worst still, rebuilds— I’ve been so frustrated by what I see as an utter failure in my ability to complete even the most simple of tasks. I then become physically incapable of ignoring tiny errors, mistakes that to all but me, are nothing short of inconsequential. And that’s when the problems really start…

You see, that’s my personal, modelling OCD: the finish that I apply to a model. The paintwork has to be perfectly smooth, the colours FS-accurate and the markings, as perfectly applied as possible. If I spray a model and any part of the finish feels rough, it has to be smoothed out and repainted. And heaven forbid that some airborne fluff should land on the surface! My need to remove the unwanted contaminant is only matched by my ability to chase it around the finish so much, that the damage that I do and the blemish that results, is way beyond anything visible from just leaving it alone. But I never learn. The remaining finish could be picture perfect and I would still focus on that tiny fleck of dust that by now I hate with every fibre of my being and know, despite my better judgement, that I am going to ‘deal’ with and make matters infinitely worse.

So I lose sight of what I have achieved and focus on a wholly unimportant issue that does little to damage the look or feel of the completed model. Like a grain of sand blowing onto a freshly swept path, it should be immaterial and I should be able to sit down and enjoy a coffee that serves as reward for a job well-done. But no; I grab the broom again and pray that the breeze holds off. But it never does…

And thus we see the same obsessions with those to whom the worries that afflict my personality are replaced by a focus on absolute accuracy, detail and perfection from the kits that they plan to build. Flecks of dust are replaced with missing details, simplified features and engineering issues that won’t allow them to build a model kit without aftermarket details, extra work, or forward planning. Reworking a paint finish is replaced with hyperbolic pronouncements of unbuildable kits, engineering disasters and ideas that companies are ripping of the unsuspecting, with sub-par products unworthy of an opened wallet ready to be emptied of hard-earned cash, handed over excitedly to a model shop owner who’s no doubt, in on the ruse.

In these cases, the modellers are blind to the fact that these minor problems are often offset by the complexity, detail and accuracy found in the rest of the kit, or that their competition is an ancient tool consigned to the dusty shelf of ignorance by all but the most enthusiastic. Recent discussions about the correct shape of Zoukei-Mura’s F-4 Phantom flanks, ignore the excellence of the rest of the airframe, detail and accuracy. Criticism over Kitty Hawk’s misfiring Su-17 radome and its ungainly mounting lugs, ignore the complete cockpit, fine surface detail and the fact that finally, we have a replacement for the ancient OEZ kit (a kit that is held up as still being worthy in the face of such heinous design flaws, poor detail and difficult construction). Wood cannot be seen for the myriad plastic trees, obsession clouds judgement, minor issues become major distractions. Grandiose argument, follows moderate interest.

So we all become obsessed with our own corner of this little world. We concentrate on the areas that we shouldn’t, at the expense of those that perhaps will cause less angst, less argument and more pleasure. If I was to ignore the less-than obvious, I would be less stressed than I almost always become over every single paint job that I apply. In the past that has helped me to improve, but now that my standards are more than acceptable, it should be time to put the breaks on and calm down. Those who complain about the smaller issues in kit production should perhaps realise that we have genuinely never had it so good and even ten years ago we could not have imagined that we would see the kits that we have today, offering the detail, finesse and choice that they do. And before anyone offers up analogies about cars, electrical appliances or other spurious nonsense that is supposed to make me understand that we shouldn’t simply accept the status quo, don’t. This is a discussion about plastic model kits that are supposed to be a fun diversion, not a safety feature that’s there to save your life, or a fail-safe that’s designed to protect your house from burning down.

We all lose sight of the wood for the trees, but maybe it’s now time to take a deep breath and take a walk through the forest to admire the view, rather than stopping to examine the first oak that we find as we step off the path…