Though there are many dolls in progress today (and even more who are planned!), Lighthouse Doll began much earlier, with an old friend.
The very first doll to bear the Lighthouse name was created almost exactly a year ago, before any of the current ongoing prototypes were so much as concepts.Â
His name is Velcro, and this is how he came to be.
In July of 2025, I was participating in Art Fight. For those who aren't aware, Art Fight is a month-long art trading event in which players are divided into teams and "attack" the characters of the opposing team by drawing them for points. At the time, I was also in the very beginning stages of dreaming about creating dolls. Given the low-pressure environment of the event, I was on the hunt for a character to try recreate as a doll as a "proof of concept."
Velcro is a character designed and owned by Art Fight user JoyStruck. He's a small, black, velcro-textured creature with huge eyes and a lot of personality considering his lack of other discernible facial features. He was perfect.
The concepts began right away with sketches and plans. The head would have to be constructed in an unusual way to account for its shape, and the joints should be limited where possible to minimise the risk of needing to redo the model - the event is only a month long, and I needed to have enough time to design, model, print, finish, and photograph the doll in that time.
I settled on a design with 10 joints across 14 parts, in an arrangement that I hoped would give a good amount of movement despite its limitations. He was then sculpted in Nomad Sculpt, a program I still use to this day. The process of sculpting went remarkably smoothly, with just a few minor hiccups as I adjusted the proportions to ensure that the character would be able to sit. Then, it was off to the printers' with him.
The finished model arrived after a week or so, and the initial tests were very promising. The movement worked as expected and the curved arms and legs gave the illusion of greater motion despite the lack of knee and elbow joints. Many of the sockets needed to be sanded, however, as not enough tolerance was given to them when the model was being finalised.
The eyes measured to around 32mm in diameter. This is larger than any doll eyes I've found in western markets, and there was certainly no time to make an order from China. The nearest I was able to find were glass taxidermy eyes intended for deer, which also happened to be out of stock at the time. With that in mind, I constructed eyes from polymer clay and finished them with acrylic paint and UV resin. They weren't the most even, but they worked for my purposes.
The model was hand-sanded up to a high grit, with extra care taken to improve the fit of the joints. All in all, progress was good and the model was a great success. Unfortunately, this luck was about to run out.
The nature of ABS-like 3D printing resin is that it powders where parts rub together. On a jointed doll - pitch black one, no less - this is less than ideal. My solution to this was to coat the parts in a thin layer of clear resin.
It was a great idea in theory. The resin should protect the powdery ABS from itself, smooth out any remaining unevenness, and darken the black of the model, and any unwanted shine could be reduced by gently sanding the surface. I used a spare piece to test the coating, and it seemed like it would work out as planned. In practice, however, it wasn't so straightforward.
All of the pieces were carefully prepared and coated one by one. They were left suspended overnight to ensure to cure. Everything looked great... Until it didn't.
Something in the resin did not cure evenly. Despite the pieces being smooth the previous evening, the surfaces warped overnight, becoming ridged and uneven throughout. The joints no longer fit together and the surface was unusable. By now, it was almost the end of the month and there was no time to start over or to repair everything that needed to be fixed.
My only option was to get everything to a presentable state, submit the doll as an art piece, and make repairs after the event. And so, that's what I did. It took some panicked sanding and careful photography, but the doll was "finished enough" in time.Â
The result is not one that I was proud of.
To my great relief, Velcro's owner was willing to wait a little longer for me to make a second attempt at creating their doll. The original file was re-printed and Project Velcro 2.0 was officially in motion.
Armed with the knowledge I gained during the original creation, the second model progressed much more quickly. At the same time, I continued sanding and re-finishing the original Velcro. There was a huge, noticeable difference in the effort required to process the two - the troublesome 2-part resin used on the original did not want to budge. The eyes were also remade at this time due to unevenness on the originals. Â
Eventually, the two dolls were fully sanded. This time, I knew better than to try the resin coating again - instead, I opted for a thorough coat of Mr. Super Clear and for sueding all sockets to limit scratching.  Thankfully, this was a success! All that was left was to take the dolls out for their final photographs and send them to their new home.
In hindsight, there are things that I would change about the two Velcro dolls if I were to recreate them today. The hip joints, for one, would function better with locking mechanisms and an update to their shape. The eyes would be better to use custom printed bases, and the weight of the head could certainly be reduced to improve balance.Â
They were, however, my first full dolls. They were also the start of an era, and I learned so much from their creation. I hold so much love in my heart for these dolls and for the character they represent, and I will always look back on them fondly. Â
In spite of the issues, the process of creating the Velcro dolls was one that I thoroughly enjoyed and their creation paved the way for the dolls I'm making today. Â
