“Hope is the last thing to leave a person” is a saying in Swedish. Hope has never left me, but I struggle to find it sometimes. My LEGO build titled “A Lonely Teardrop of Pain and Hope” was my way to explore the fragile balance of daring to hope in harsh times. How do you go about building something with a deeper meaning? I will tell you how I approached it and hopefully that can give you some clues.

Building Deeper Meaning

My aspirations with my LEGO builds are often to convey a deeper meaning. I want them to straddle the line between bricks and art. There is no need to go so far as to “create art” if that’s not your goal as a builder, but if you do, a first step can be to really think your build through before you start. I personally think our LEGO creations communicate what we discover about ourselves, so what do you want to show the world?

As I have mentioned in my two previous articles, I use LEGO as a therapy tool. I go to my building table when I can’t take the pain or cope with my thoughts, but also to manifest subjects that I need to get my head around. Two years ago, I started what ended up as my biggest build to date—weighing 20 kg and with a size of 90x70x60 cm (44 lbs and 35x27x24 in).

A life-changing event prompted the build. Let me share with you the story. I live in Sweden, but I had reached out to doctors in London who thought they had discovered one of the causes of my chronic pain. They suggested that an operation could solve these issues. The doctors painted a vision of a glorious future in which I would experience much less pain. With my life history, it is hard to hope—but I could not hold it back. I was high on the feeling of hope!

Unfortunately, the operation did not solve the problem, and everything fell through. Nothing could be done to help me. In the times between the three trips from Sweden to England, I just built this LEGO model and internally processed that fragile border between the hope, joy, pain and suffering inside me. (I owe a big shoutout to the LEGO Brand Store at Leicester Square that helped me buy an obscene amount of trans-clear slopes. Their welcoming smiles warmed my heart in a very trying time.)

Starting with Something Softer

So, how do you build something that shows the internal battle between hope and suffering? I started by sketching and writing down all words I could think of that I associated with the subjects. My heart stopped at the word teardrop. I had previously created other things in wool using a teardrop shape, although those creations did not hold a sorrowful message. So I decided to take that shape and translate it into LEGO.

My “Mother Love“ and “Dreams” wool art.

When you felt wool, it is easy to create organic and round forms but so much harder to create hard angles—which is totally the opposite of LEGO. There is a craft involved in making objects in each of these techniques, but the creative process is very much alike. My belief is that the creative process facilitates building creations with depth and meanings beyond the obvious. Depth can also develop during the build when meaningful details are added and the concept is fleshed out.

Building a Tear

Building my teardrop was frustrating from start to finish. Inverted slopes in trans-clear are incredibly rare, especially for the amount I needed, so I had to SNOT slopes instead which then caused problems with stability. This resulted in the sides of the teardrop breaking off. I might have shed a real teardrop when that happened. I had to start from the beginning and build much more compact, reinforcing the walls. I made many compromises due to the fact that I wanted the teardrop to be built as much as possible in trans-clear.

I won’t lie, it was difficult getting a shape similar to a drop with enough space inside to hold a landscape. I took photos and tried to draw the shape I wanted and did this throughout the building process to remind myself as I built. Here you can see the shape outline I was going for and some of the progress I made along the way.

Finding Symbols Within

In order to infuse more personal meaning into my model, I decided to include many symbols in the build that connected to my personal ordeal.

On the darker side, I wanted to have a demon. I started the design process with the shape of the female reproductive system—the ovaries and uterus—as it connects to my painful disorder. Can you see the suggestion of it?

The landscape inside the teardrop was built on a tight deadline, but the contents were just as important as the overall shape. The central part of the landscape revolves around a gray minifigure. The female warrior represents me. She struggles to break free from the chains with which the red dragon has bound her. Meanwhile, her partner and friend—the faithful green dragon—rushes to her aid.

The dark side was easier to build. It was fun and therapeutic to create the small, gruesome scenes. My favorite is the black skeletons playing chess!

Some Reassembly Required

Many things have changed in the two years since I built the teardrop. I still struggle to be brave enough to embrace hope. It feels good to look back at this build and realize that even if my hope during this period did not come true, I survived and live on. This build helps me remember and to understand those things about myself even to this day.

The Teardrop was first displayed at Swebricks' annual show in 2019 in Borlänge. As it is very heavy, I can’t lift it myself, but my husband helps me. He is nervous every time, worried that he might be left standing with only crumbled bricks left in his hands if he stumbles a bit—but it has proved to be a sturdy model with some steady hands.

The top of the Teardrop can be detached so that it fits in the trunk of my car. Some reassembly is required! My husband made wooden boxes for all my builds which makes it much easier to transport them to shows. I can’t wait to go to shows again, to share our deeper meanings with each other, even if I need to buy a much bigger vehicle to transport everything...

Malin Kylinger Borlänge Utställning Bw.jpg

My other build “Worlds Inside of Me” has had the most positive response from the online community, but the Teardrop is the favorite when it is seen in person. The enclosed world of the tear shape serves as an entrance for both adults and children; there is something mysterious when you can’t see the whole build at first glance. You have to look closer and engage.

I usually take a different approach when speaking with children about the model compared to adults. Children often describe it as a crystal cave and call all the red transparent details “lava.” Adults more often see the overall shape and notice the blood trickling down to form the words ”Save me.”

But that is really the point, isn’t it? It takes some similar life experiences to understand symbols, to understand people, and to understand deeper meanings. It is the exchange of these meanings that I most enjoy—when I can connect with people and learn new insights from how they interpret the piece. That exchange gives me inspiration, and I am so grateful that the AFOL community offers the gift of connection—even if the spark of that meaningful connection is in the shape of a teardrop.

What personal stories or symbols have you built into a LEGO model? Leave your thoughts in the comments below.

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