Imaginative Characters Brought to Life by Sandra Arteaga’s Hands
By Hannah Kelley
Photos by Sandra Arteaga
People can spend their lives searching for what they believe is their true calling and still never discover it. In Sandra Arteaga’s case, however, it was clear early on that she was meant to be a dollmaker. She knew it, as did everyone around her.
“From a very, very young age, I was fascinated by fantasy worlds, puppets, reading, legends, history, mythology, monsters, and magical beings,” Arteaga said. “I remember as a transcendent moment the first time I saw the puppets and universes in the movies and the series The Storyteller by my dear Jim Henson. I knew that somehow, this was my place, like having found the way home.”
Born in Spain in 1980, Arteaga grew up exercising her imagination. She recalls drawing and sculpting for hours as a child, even resorting to working with unconventional materials on occasion: “I made tiny figurines out of the breadcrumbs left on the table after meals — I can still see myself at my dear grandmother’s house shaping those crumbs with my tiny hands.” She said, “I don’t have siblings, though I would have loved to have many, so I suppose I had to invent them. At school, I was always telling my friends spooky stories and fantasy tales that I made up… and here I am, still doing the same thing at 44 years old.”
Despite having no formal art education, nothing was going to stop Arteaga from pursuing her artistic dreams. “For as long as I can remember, I’ve been experimenting, creating, and teaching myself how to bring my ideas into tangible creatures, turning imagination into something you can hold,” she said.

Her persistence has paid off. “I have now been doing it for more than 20 years,” Arteaga said. “Thanks to the arrival of the internet, I was able to search for and discover new materials until I found polymer clay, which has become my favorite material to work with, though I also adore papier-mâché, sculpting with fabric, etc. For many years, though, I had to balance this passion with exhausting day jobs. No matter how tired I was at night, I’d sit down to work on my dolls. At first, I sold them on eBay, later on Etsy, and little by little, collectors began to find me — or rather, my work.”
Each character gets the artist’s undivided attention while being made, and Arteaga learns and improves upon her skills along the way. Describing her process, she said, “It always begins with a sensation — something that starts in my heart, travels through my stomach, and reaches my mind, becoming an idea. Often it comes in a strange, personal language that I try to decipher and translate into a form the real world can understand. I rarely sketch on paper; I improvise instead. Once I get to know a character, I love discovering its story in more detail. It’s a free and enriching process, letting the tale unfold on its own. I hope anyone who encounters it can reinterpret it in their own personal way. That’s something I deeply enjoy.”
It’s inevitable that Arteaga must part with her sculpted dolls, but she has figured out a way to hold on to the essence of them: paper dolls. “Since I only make unique pieces and never repeat them or take commissions, once I sell them, I never see them again. My paper versions let me keep a small memento beyond photos,” she said.
For most things worth pursuing, there are obstacles along the way, and Arteaga knows this all too well. “It has never been easy, especially in Spain,” she said. “Being an artist and self-employed here is truly an odyssey, since the system is very demanding and costly. On top of that, algorithms on Instagram and Etsy have changed a lot. It used to be much easier to reach thousands of potential collectors. Now, it’s harder for new people to discover your work.” The trade off is that the positive moments become much more meaningful.



As other passionate artists can relate, Arteaga said, “What I hope most is that people feel something. Ideally warmth, comfort, kindness — or even unease. If I manage to spark a smile, a sense of being hugged, or even a tear, that’s a treasure. And if my work provokes rejection, that too is an emotion. My creatures are, in many ways, an inner diary.” She added, “One of the moments I enjoy most is when my little beings, once finished, look at me from my worktable with their tiny eyes — whether sitting or standing. And of course, when collectors write to tell me how they felt upon receiving their new tenants. That is deeply moving, and I thank them with all my heart, endlessly.”
Unwilling to let the constant challenges come between her and her art, Arteaga makes adjustments to other parts of her life instead. She said, “I live in a tiny, rented apartment that doubles as my studio. Honestly, my dolls take up more space than I do! So, I adapt to creating in whatever conditions I have. Creativity lives in both light and shadow — it’s about adjusting your vision and senses to stay receptive to lessons and challenges, in both good and bad times. Learn, transform, create.”
In the end, Arteaga’s goal is simple: “I just want to keep creating. That’s all — create, create, create. Even though it’s very difficult now, I still hold on to the hope that it doesn’t become impossible.”
Sandra Arteaga Creatures
instagram.com/sandraarteagacreatures




















