Dicken Liu is a graphic designer, LEGO Masters finalist, and traditionalist MOCist who rejects digital software to design entirely by hand, treating physical bricks as a tactile medium for fine art. His work masterfully bridges the gap between commercial design and personal expression, ranging from serene, historically reverent Buddhist sculptures to highly constrained alternative builds. A fierce advocate for mastering core building fundamentals like SNOT techniques, Dicken believes that true creative breakthrough begins with a single physical element, a focused atmosphere, and the courage to break past the instruction manual.
Why do most AFOLs build premade LEGO sets? Is it more than the joy of building? Is it the instructions? The comfort of knowing exactly where every brick goes? Whatever may be the reason, that’s the start for most — a way to recreate a vision conceived by someone else.
But then there are AFOLs who get a little restless. They finish the build, look at it, and realize they could have built something different. Something entirely their own. For these people, LEGO is more than a hobby of instructions. They’ve reached a point where the official box is no longer the destination, but the starting point. This is the world of the MOCists and ALTist — the builders who look at a pile of plastic bricks and see a canvas.
LEGO artist Dicken Liu from China belongs to this very world. He’s a graphic designer, living a life that’s already full of professional deadlines and creative output. So, when he sits down with his bricks, he’s not trying to build what already exists out there; he’s looking to create something new.
Liu has spent the last dozen years proving that you don’t need a digital interface or complex software to bring a vision to life. Perhaps that’s why every piece he builds feels like a carefully considered sculpture. Talk to this gifted artist and you’ll realize how, in brick-building, all you need is a bit of inspiration, some music, and the courage to begin.
From Consumer to Creator: The Evolution of a MOCist
Dicken Liu’s journey with the brick hobby began around 2011. Like many of us, he entered the community through the standard channels, but his creative itch couldn’t be scratched by standard sets for long.
Serendipity happened about a decade ago when he chanced upon the concept of MOC building at a trade fair. It was there that he figured that the official sets, while wonderful, often left a gap between what he wanted to see and what was available on the shelf. That very gap eventually became his playground.
Liu’s professional life as a graphic designer did its bit, too. This is a career that requires a sharp eye for composition and color — skills that translated beautifully into his brick-building. One form of art met the other and magic happened!
At home, Liu finds a different kind of support system. He’s got a lovely family, and while he admits with a warm laugh that none of his dear ones share his brick-building habit, they provide the encouragement that keeps him going. “They’re all very supportive of my little hobby,” he says.
His family respect his passion and understand that he needs this space to create, even if they aren’t the ones clicking the bricks together at three in the morning. It’s that balance that keeps his work feeling so grounded.
The Ritual of Creation: Why Real Bricks Still Matter
One of the most fascinating aspects of Liu’s process is his refusal to rely on the virtual tools that have become so prevalent in the modern AFOL community. The digital vs. physical debate is tearing through the hobby right now. Everyone is either moving to software, building in the cloud, or rendering in 3D.
Meanwhile, Liu remains a traditionalist. He believes that the best building happens in the real world, not in software. He uses software for his day job, sure, but when it’s time to build, he wants the plastic. He prefers the feel of the bricks between his fingers to a computer keyboard.
To him, the digital realm is a professional necessity for his graphic design work, but the joy of the MOC is fundamentally tied to the physical world. It’s in the feeling of the build, the weight of the parts, and the process of discovery. “I’ve always believed that most of the joy of MOCs comes from building by hand, rather than from the virtual world,” Liu says and he’s right. There’s something about the sensation of holding the bricks in your hand that you just don’t get on a screen.
His process is intensely atmospheric as well. He doesn’t build in silence. He has a ritual where he’s got music playing or a film running on in the background. He immerses himself in the soundscape of music or the visual storytelling of films.
He builds as he watches, letting the pacing of a movie or the rhythm of a track dictate the flow of his assembly. It’s like he’s inviting inspiration into the room. Bringing the outside world into his workspace helps him draw from different forms of art.
The most human part of his process is perhaps where he finds his best ideas. When asked about overcoming the dreaded creative block, Dicken offers a humble, honest confession: his best thoughts come when he is having a bath in the evening. It’s such a human thing, isn’t it? To find your best inspiration when you’re doing absolutely nothing at all.
Liu’s brick-building method is a reminder that creativity is rarely a linear, desk-bound task. It is a subconscious process that flourishes when we step away from the tools and allow our minds to wander.
Inspiration from the Traditional
When you look at Liu’s portfolio, you notice a recurring theme that sets his work apart: a fascination with Buddhism and traditional art. It’s a rare and beautiful intersection to see in the brick community, where pop culture and sci-fi usually dominate your feed. The artist manages to infuse his creations with a sense of gravity and historical reverence that is hard to achieve with standard ABS plastic.
This is where his background as a graphic designer becomes clear. He isn’t trying to copy a shape; he is trying to capture an essence. Whether it is a traditional motif or a cultural symbol, he applies a level of discipline that respects the source material. It is this depth of interest that keeps him engaged, moving him beyond basic recreation and into personal expression and making his work feel like art, not just a model.
The Alien and Facehugger Project
Recently, Dicken Liu has turned his attention to a build that has captured the attention of AFOLs worldwide: his Alien and Facehugger alternative build. He took the official LEGO 76968 set (Dinosaur Fossils: Tyrannosaurus Rex) and decided to make it his own.
For Liu, this build was inspired by his genuine love for the Alien film franchise. It was a challenge he set for himself — to take a pre-existing set and see how far he could push its boundaries to match his own creative preferences.
It won’t be an exaggeration to call this project a feat of efficiency. Liu opted to use parts entirely from the official set, restating his philosophy on accessibility. He’s not interested in gatekeeping; he wants others to feel that same ‘aha’ moment when they realize they can pick up the same bricks and replicate the magic in a fresh way.
When asked about the most difficult part of the build, he is quick to answer: using as many parts from the original set as possible. It’s the classic constraint-based puzzle. You want to stay true to the limited palette provided, yet you must manipulate those same elements into a shape that feels organic and, in the case of the Facehugger, appropriately unsettling.
The Alien and Facehugger project is a testament to what can be achieved when you work within the constraints of an existing set. Liu credits the mouthpiece of the creature as the standout feature, noting that many who have built it believe it stays incredibly true to the original design from the films. “I hope everyone will explore more ways to play with the official sets. I’m sure LEGO would be delighted to see that,” he says.
Advice for the Next Generation
As we look at the broader LEGO community in China, MOCist Dicken Liu is optimistic. He talks about a surge of young, incredibly talented builders who are entering the fold. He sees them as a new hope for the hobby, a generation that is not afraid to experiment or take risks.
When we asked him what he’d tell a beginner who’s terrified of the blank baseplate, he brought up his time on the LEGO Masters competition as a finalist and said something that comes back to the core of the hobby: every build starts with one brick. That’s it.
For anyone intimidated by the thought of building a MOC, the barrier to entry is mostly psychological. But it’s not about having the perfect collection or the most expensive pieces. It’s about having the guts to take one part and trying to make it connect to something else. You have to be willing to pick up a brick and accept that it might not be perfect on the first try. The courage to start is the only requirement for greatness.
He’s also not shy about giving a little tough love to the community. Liu is a strong advocate for mastering the basics, specifically SNOT techniques. He views this as the true foundation of advanced building. It’s not about flowery language or high-concept storytelling right out of the gate; it’s about learning how to move the bricks, how to orient them, and how to control the structure in order to translate the shapes in your head into the shapes on your table. Everything else is just fluff until you’ve got that down.
Finding LEGO Artist Dicken Liu
Dicken Liu represents the kind of LEGO artists who turn bricks into a language of their own. He isn’t doing this for fame or for the sake of following a trend. He is building because that’s how he processes the world around him — whether that world is filtered through the lens of traditional Buddhist art or the intense, claustrophobic atmosphere of a classic sci-fi film.
For him building isn’t a chore; it’s not a race to the finish line either. His philosophy is simple: take the bricks apart. Lay them out on your table. Put on your favorite album. And start with just one piece. You might be surprised at where it leads you.
For those who want to follow his work and witness his creative evolution, Liu keeps a presence online. Yes, he’s been through the ringer with social media — his original Instagram account got hacked, which is a headache. But his body of work remains visible and he has a second handle that goes by the username @dickentututu. You’ll also find him on Threads and Flickr if you want to dig into his back catalog.
