I really enjoy jigsaw puzzles, especially those with a complex design. To begin, I simultaneously sort pieces by border edges and subject motif (horses and buggies, writing, buildings, color, or plants, for example.) As I scan every piece, I and immediately find pieces to connect, before they go into their topic pile. My next, Hobbit project is over 500 pieces–not too large–but it has double-sided pieces! That will make sorting more time consuming at the onset. First, I will reconstruct the “Map of Bilbo’s Journey through Eriador and Rhovanion.” Lots of inset details of locations, rivers, and mountain ranges within two fanciful, geographic regions will help block out the map. When it is done, I plan to carefully separate each piece and lay it on the table upside, ie., reverse side, down. That will eliminate trying to place a Map piece into the Bilbo Comes to the Huts of the Raftelves side. Puzzling requires discipline.
However, a Sherlock Holmes reversible puzzle made it really difficult to apply this sorting strategy. Every piece was the same monochromatic, tan and brown coloration. I no longer own it.
Non-interlocking puzzles are deeply irritating, because the sections keep shifting. Still, I persist.
This week I was about to complete a 1000-piece, Charles Wysocki Americana scene. When I came to the last void, I knew exactly what piece was required, a corner of a creamy, clapboard building with two green tones of grass. However, the lone piece on the table was solid black, a roof section that had no place to go. All roofs had been filled in earlier. Puzzle fans will understand how unfulfilling this realization was. Where was the missing piece? What puzzle box is missing a black piece?
This photo from a friend shows a puzzle where I draw the line. The interlocking (good), clear (bad), acrylic (interesting), jigsaw pieces seem like torture for even a lover of puzzles.
