There, at waist height, I am looking down at a landscape sculpted to be an exact replica of the Netherlands, replete with everyday Netherlanders being depicted in a perpetual state of pause, forever caught in the motion of crossing the streets that will never be crossed, ceaselessly walking the dog, driving an eternally motionless car, that is until a button is pressed. I had paid for a ticket to witness the full splendour of Miniworld, and looking at the amazing meticulous efforts and attention to detail that had brought life to the 3D replication of the Netherlands, conjured within me is a mollifying feeling that, maybe, the reality of life is actually quite manageable; with everything built and exposed, it takes away some uncertainty and anxiety of a life where there are things and events that are still not within our control. Soon after some time moving from one shrunk part of the country to another, Rotterdam’s Miniworld us quickly reduced to a curio simply encouraging intrigue and admiration, making it difficult to think of much else when preoccupied with the refined detailing on awkwardly shaped pieces that inexplicably all fit to complete the puzzle that is the Netherlands replicated for the pleasure and study of its visiting gods.