From a young age, I was captivated by adornment. I remember the quiet joy of making paper brooches and weaving colourful thread bracelets, and later collecting pearl and coral necklaces from artisans on Venezuelan beaches. But it was the silver bead bracelets gifted by travelling relatives that first awakened my fascination with metal—tiny treasures that felt like stories from faraway places.

As I grew older, jewellery became a way of connecting with the world. During my university years, I travelled across the country, intentionally collecting a bracelet from each region: often just a leather cord, a small token that carried the character of that place. In the remote indigenous lands of southern Venezuela, I exchanged a T-shirt for a necklace made of seeds. It was a beautiful gesture that has stayed with me ever since. I couldn’t name it back then, but I felt that adornment could be a way of remembering, of carrying people and places with you.

My search for a creative language took me through many paths. I began with a year studying arts and letters, then earned a degree in early childhood education, where what I loved most was encouraging creativity in children, before moving to Spain to study fashion and textile design. In that world of fabrics, metal found me. I began weaving silver threads into crochet and incorporating them into garments, driven by a constant need to combine materials and textures. Slowly, these experiments evolved into small pieces I began to sell.

Life then took me from Madrid to Sydney, where I briefly ventured into my own business, a quick foray into the world of fashion. While it was a valuable experience, it lacked the deeper purpose I was searching for. It wasn't until I arrived in New Zealand that everything finally clicked into place. A simple ring-making course became a revelation. Working with metal felt like finding the language I had been searching for, a way to shape memory, material, and meaning with my own hands.

Since then, I’ve continued to refine my craft through wax carving, sand casting, stone setting, and ancient techniques like Keum-boo. I am still learning, always, but now I can give form to what I feel. Echoes of those first treasures—the sea, the journeys, the hands that gifted me beauty—still live quietly in what I create.

My faith is intricately woven into every piece. It is with a sense of gratitude that I create, honoring God with the work of my hands. My talent is for His glory, and I hope each creation carries a spark of that devotion.