A while ago my friend John Chung asked me what inspired me when it came to my next project. I’m a one-kit-at-a-time kind of guy and thus inoculated against the temptation to start something on impulse, and was slightly nonplussed by the question: why do I choose to build what I do?
After giving it some thought I concluded I’m not inspired. At least I don’t think I am. And this struck me as rather odd.
Fast forward a few months and the most recent episode of the excellent Model Geeks Podcast featured this as their main topic of conversation: ‘Modeling (sic) Inspiration’. It’s in episode 56 if you fancy a listen, and you should, because it was very interesting. All kinds of sources of inspiration were discussed: personal connection to the subject, history, a heroic story, model shows, air shows, a photograph, and so on. But again I thought, ‘I don’t think I’m inspired by any of these things’. And that struck me as rather odd.
Now, let me be clear: I am not knocking the MGP nor their discussion of it. And it’s a perennial topic in all kinds of corners of the hobby, and I’m not knocking those discussions either. And I’m not knocking any of the answers – these really are sources of inspiration. And I’m certainly not knocking other modellers and how they practice this hobby. It’s just that clearly I’m odd, and I’d like to know why. The discussion is about what moves you to start a kit, and I have realised I am simply not moved in this way.
In my reply to John, I figured out that I am building a collection. The parameters of that collection are broad, but very tightly adhered to: 1/48 post-WWII aircraft, and only one of each marque – no duplicates. If a kit fits these parameters, I’ll almost certainly buy it, and thus my purchasing is not driven by impulse or inspiration, but simply by definition. The last kit I bought was Trumpeter’s new Mil Mi-4, a green blob of a helicopter that I know nothing about, but it fits my collection, so I had to have it. There are some kits that qualify that I won’t consider, usually for practical reasons, such as the expense (but mainly size) of a 1/48 B-36, B-52, B-1 or B-2. The upcoming JetMads Neptune is tempting, but I know it will simply be impractically large, and so I’ll pass, but on the whole I add to my stash in a fairly disciplined, programmatic way.
In broad terms, my choice of project is governed by how long a kit has been in the stash – kits that have been hanging around in my loft longer move towards the top of my list. In February 2023, when the time came to start the next project, it was the Hasegawa Phantom FG.1 which I’d had the longest, and so that was what I started. Inspiration, impulse and emotion simply didn’t feature in the decision; to some extent, it was made for me by the arbitrary rules I have constructed. My current method is to then build all the related aircraft in my stash, so now I’m making the Academy F-4B kit I have (as a G) and next month I will start the Tamiya F-4B. I like this method because it means I build fairly stochastically through the stash.
Between more involved projects, I like to bang out a quick single-engine prop. The last of these was the Trumpeter Nanchang CJ-6 I finished in January. I had no interest in this subject: it is an average kit of a boring plane finished in a boring scheme. There is no inspiration involved at all; it simply fits my collection and so it needed to be added. And I loved it.
And this is the odd thing: I am never inspired before starting a kit, but I jolly well become inspired once I’ve started. I can’t help it. Later this year I’m going make Academy’s 1/48 CH-53E. I’m not interested in the Super Stallion. I don’t look at photos of it and think, ‘I really want to make that’. I feel completely uninterested in it, plus the kit is basic, it will take a lot of work, I’ve spent a ton on aftermarket, and I already know the kit stencil decals have to be used and will suck. Yet when I start it I know that I will become entranced. I’ll be thinking about it all the time until it’s done, I’ll be poring over endless photos, I’ll learn about all the modifications it underwent during its service lifetime; I’ll be obsessed. And when it’s done I’ll do the same with the Hawker Hunter. And this strikes me as odd.
I’m learning to live with this oddness. I’ve learned that if I wait for the impulse, the inspiration, to be moved into sitting at the bench and making something, I’ll never do anything. The activation energy is too high; it’s easier to watch YouTube and flick through Facebook. I sit down at the bench as a matter of habit, regardless of the desire to, and then the emotion flows.
Coincidentally, I recently watched Nick Cave’s interview on Unherd (Nick Cave: Christ, the Devil and the duty to offend). I’m not a particular Nick Cave fan. I’ve watched him from a distance for thirty years and bought only one of his albums, but I think he’s a pretty interesting guy and articulate with it, and he speaks a little in this interview about his creative process. He sits down at 9.30am every weekday and works until 5.30pm (or whatever – I don’t recall the exact times) and that’s his creative time. He’s disciplined and regular about it. He does it whether he feels like it or not. And within those parameters he is incredibly creative. He goes to church, and he goes to church not out of impulse or desire, but to bring order to his creativity. He intentionally creates the space and the structure to allow his creativity to flourish.
I am not creative like Nick Cave. In fact, I think the reason modelling appeals to me is because it can (notice the work that little word is doing, and so I repeat, ‘can’) be practised in a way where creative input is minimal. For me that’s a feature – so much of the form is already given to me I don’t need much creative vision to turn out something I can appreciate looking at. My creativity is mainly worked out in sermon-writing rather than model-making. Yet in a very faint way, I recognise what Nick Cave was talking about – the need to not fall into the trap of thinking all that is of worth comes from the spontaneous, that all that is authentic is a matter of impulse, that discipline is bondage and doing what you want to do when you want to do it is freedom. I think it was Stanley Hauerwas who said that planning is simply spontaneity in slow-motion.
But hark! I preach too much. This is a hobby and the last thing I want to do is lecture. No, my aim is simply to broaden the discussion a little. I love hearing about what inspires people, because I love hearing about how people engage with our hobby. There’s no right or wrong way to do it, just your way, and this is my way. I’ve mapped out my build schedule for the next three years. Yes, it will be tweaked and modified for arbitrary reasons. I decided a few weeks ago that in early 2024 I’ll make my Academy Hunter F.6 simply because I realised it will be the last Academy kit in my stash, and it pleases me to expunge that manufacturer from the attic. And that then entails I’ll make my recently acquired Airfix Hunter F.5, because that’s the other Hunter kit I’ve got. I’m not interested in the Hunter, and I think it’s a spectacularly bland airframe in a dull colour scheme, but I will really get into them once I’ve started. So I reserve the right to change my plans as and when I wish, but the future is sketched out: for the next few years I know what I’ll build and when. It’s just the way I am.
And that strikes me as rather odd, and I think I’ve made my peace with it.
Back to home.
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