Self-dissection through my LEGO obsession — Pop Junctions

When I was older, in middle school and high school, I didn’t have much time to hang around the sales office. I gradually forgot about my obsession with the real estate sand table model (I didn’t realize the difference between them at the time), until one day my high school implemented a sand table model from campus. Looking at the thumbnail of the surroundings that I knew like the back of my hand, a feeling similar to the one I had while standing next to the sand table in a real estate sales office was suddenly felt. Overlooking the campus that I commuted to and from every day from a high vantage point, I felt a sense of peace and comfort. I was able to “walk” the entire campus in a second with just a glance. At the time, I couldn’t be more sure of my obsession with miniatures.

Lately, I discovered that Johan Huizinga’s concept of “free play” could partly explain my obsession with LEGOs and miniatures. “Free play” suggests escapism, viewing play as a free activity taking place outside of ordinary life and serving as an alternative to the serious duties and obligations of social life. Because of being outside ordinary life, Huizinga also believes that gambling has no material benefit and no profit can be made from it. “Free play” suggests a rigid distinction between real life and play, forming a “magic circle” to protect temporary and limited perfection as an alternative to imperfect reality. In the LEGO world built with bricks, the feeling of weakness in real life is minimized to the maximum. Due to the huge volume difference, I have supreme control and power in the miniature world. For the simplest example, it might take me three hours to clean my 750 square foot apartment, but cleaning an entire LEGO house only requires wiping it down with a rag a few times. In reality, I lack the strength to push my sofa, but in the LEGO world, I can even install it on the roof.


Add comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *