A very productive week! As I type this, the
seventh NH3 mechanism is just to be assembled. Eighteen to go!
My role is assembly; as individual parts arrive from the workshop,
movements are assembled and adjusted. The main problem is that I am
handling components which take days to manufacture and hours to hand
finish, so there is no other way but to go slowly and carefully. A slip
of a screwdriver could turn a perfect part into a write-off, which does
happen occasionally. Hand finished parts are quite different to handle
than mass produced, mass finished parts. The other problem is
deteriorating eyesight. But what really drives me crazy is that constant
pursuit for perfection: under the eyeglass even the smallest
imperfection is impossible to ignore. No customer would ever see such a
minute imperfection, but I know it's there. Think of it as one bad pixel
on a screen: invisible, until pointed out; and once seen, it becomes
something that can not be unseen ever again. To be perfectly honest with
you, not one evening I went home feeling completely happy and overly
satisfied with my daily performance.
Yet this is precisely how every honest singer, painter and sculptor must
have felt about their own work. Many artists sabotaged, ruined or
destroyed their artworks as a result of displeasure. Claude Monet
allegedly slashed at least 30 of his water lily canvases.
On the other hand, if watchmaking was easy, then everyone would do it.
There is a limit to scrutiny. No one in his right mind would go over a
model's face with 10 times magnification. That would be inappropriate,
disrespectful and intrusive. Even the most beautiful faces on the cover
of Vogue magazine have tiny wrinkles, facial hair and pimples hidden by
layers of makeup, photoshopped away.
Settling for imperfection is not just s sign of maturity. In the real
world, this is the only possible outcome because perfection simply
doesn't exist.
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