About five minutes off the highway south of Madeira Park is a city you won’t find on any map. It’s a miniature city made of Lego, a 600-sq.-foot labour of love, created by hand over the last two and a half years by Chriistine Emily Nash. (And yes, she does spell Chriistine that way.)
Except for a brief period during her teen years, Nash has been a life-long Lego fan, but not with nearly this intensity. It was a devastating workplace accident that impelled her into Lego in such a big way. Nash owned a roofing company in the Fraser Valley and five years ago, although she had on a safety harness to prevent injury from falling off a roof sideways, she fell straight down through a rotted roof section in a high-ceilinged building onto a concrete floor.
“I was in hospital for a year and a half,” Nash said in an interview. “I was broken up pretty bad. Lots of broken bones. I had to have my foot reattached. I’ve got artificial knees, artificial shoulders, artificial hips, and screws and bolts in my face and arms, and back, all over the place.
“Because I was going stir crazy in hospital, my friends were bringing me Lego to keep me occupied. And it basically saved my life,” she said. “When I got out of hospital, I still played around with Lego a little bit. But once I got out of the wheelchair, I thought, ‘I’m going to build a little town.’ And it just grew into what it is now. I don’t drink or smoke or anything like that. So, this is what I spend my money on. And it keeps me busy, keeps my wife happy as well, and out of her hair. She’s not into Lego at all, unfortunately.”
The long healing process also brought about another change. Prior to the accident, she was Christopher Nash, assigned as male at birth. After the accident, Nash experienced a deep, personal transition. “I’m transgendered,” she said. “Actually, I identify more as bi-gender. So, I use the double ‘i’ in Chriistine to signify male and female aspects of who I am.”
Nash loves to share her huge Lego project with the public, and viewings can be arranged through Facebook Messenger at Lego Chriistine, or by email at [email protected]. Admission is by donation, and she will buy old Lego at $3.50 to $5 a pound, depending on the quality. Nash estimates she already has as many as three million pieces, but, as the city is under construction for an hour or two a day, she can never seem to have enough of those plastic bricks, figures, and accessories on hand.
“Some of the donations I receive for my showings go to groups like the Legion, our local food bank, and the SPCA,” Nash added. “The rest goes to buying new Lego sets to keep my city up to date.”
The variety of features Nash has created is astonishing. City streets are densely packed with office and apartment towers, a recreation of the Fairmont Hotel Vancouver, an amusement park, airport, railways, bridges, a harbour, even a model of the International Space Station hovering above.
There are also little surprises everywhere. See if you can spot where a flying saucer has crashed into a highrise.
And there’s always more to come. Among Nash’s future additions to the city, she said, is a model of the landmark Gibsons restaurant, Molly’s Reach.
