First of all I hate puzzles. Maybe it’s my IQ but really- do I want to spend my time trying to fit together cardboard pieces to create a picture? Ummmm NO!
Contradicting myself however, I DO love this one Postal Service song and long called Ben my puzzle piece before they came out with Such Great Heights, “And I have to speculate that God himself Did make us into corresponding shapes like Puzzle pieces from the clay” We may be a messy 2 puzzle picture whose pieces don’t always WANT to fit together, but we do.
I think the thing that I hate most about puzzles was the fact that once you accomplished your goal you DESTROYED IT. Unless you were one of the weirdos that glued their puzzle together and hung it on a wall. That must seem like a good idea, all the hours you spent are proudly hanging on your living room wall, but here’s a little secret… it looks HORRIBLE. Sorry to burst your bubble, but really no one cares if you spent 45 hours clipping pieces together to form a picture of 5 kittens playing in a wicker basket of yarn. It looks sloppy on the wall and doesn’t seem like real art. Even if it IS real art, like a Van Gogh puzzle… at least a painted replica has the pretense of being a real piece of art, a glued puzzle on the wall just looks like a glued puzzle on a wall.
Now that I’ve insulted all my puzzle gluing friends, I’ll move on.
The breaking apart of the puzzle was so difficult- I have trouble spending hours and hours laboring on something only to destroy it. That’s why I don’t fish catch-and-release style. (I just made that up- I never fish- but IF I DID I WOULD EAT IT!) What I’m wondering today is what makes someone love puzzles? I feel like it’s a waste of time, but is there something beautiful too? Working at something that is not permanent? Hard work, dedication, and passion all to create something that will be gone? Sand castles, snow men and falling dominoes?
I’ve now written and said the word “Puzzles’ enough times that it seems like I’m either misspelling it or saying it wrong. Do you know what I mean? If you say a word a ton suddenly it seems weird? Is this just me? I remember doing this as a child. I said the word “of” enough times I started writing it “uv” (cause THAT seems right) or I said “Elmo” until it seemed like I had made it up.
I want to live in the moment, not have to have every moment mean something or every bit of work have a glorious outcome. I don’t want to be inefficient or waste time but I want to do something beautifully temporary or pointless. I want to appreciate the time doing it, the memories created and not necessarily the outcome.