About the Artist
Early Life and Education
I was born in Ft. Defiance, Arizona, a small town nestled in the quiet expanse of the desert. Growing up there shaped me in ways I didn’t fully understand at the time, surrounded by landscapes that carried stories far older than I was. After graduating from West Mesa High School, a Title 1 school, I went on to study English at the University of New Mexico. I worked hard to graduate early, taking on 28 credit hours per semester—more than I probably should have—and filling every summer and winter break with extra courses. Somehow, I managed to make the dean’s list a few times. By 19, I had earned my degree and stepped into a corporate job that promised stability, but I always wondered if something was missing.
Born to Navajo parents, I was raised in a dual world—a life balanced between the traditions of my heritage and the expectations of modern education. After graduating, I stepped into the corporate world as a data scientist. The job offered stability, but it left me feeling unfulfilled, disconnected from something I couldn’t yet name. Looking back, I realize I was searching for something deeper—something that felt like home.
Career
That search for something deeper eventually led me to a six-hour jewelry-making class. It was a humble start, but it ignited a spark I hadn’t felt in years. What began as curiosity quickly became a passion, though I had no idea how much I still had to learn. I taught myself silversmithing through YouTube videos, countless mistakes, and sheer determination. Along the way, I found mentors like Amy, who encouraged me to refine my skills and think beyond the surface of the craft, and Jan, whose knowledge and industry experience became invaluable as I grew.
One of my earliest milestones was a squash blossom necklace. It wasn’t perfect—far from it—but each melted bezel and failed solder taught me something. That necklace wasn’t just a piece of jewelry; it was proof that I could create with my hands and turn intention into something tangible. Every hammer strike was a step forward, and every mistake carried me closer to understanding my work, my purpose, and myself.
It wasn’t until I began my journey as a silversmith that I learned of the legacy I unknowingly carried. While my father and uncle never taught me the craft directly, I later discovered that silversmiths had existed in my family for generations. They passed on long before I ever picked up a torch, but their presence feels alive in my hands, guiding me as I teach myself what they could no longer share.
In carrying their legacy forward, I’ve come to understand the weight of my name, Platero—Spanish for "silversmith." My ancestors’ knowledge flows through me, and I honor them by using time-tested techniques like hand-sawing, twist wire, and stamp work. But this legacy isn’t a relic of the past—it’s a foundation for creating modern pieces that feel timeless, connecting my clients to their own stories.
When I first started making jewelry, I thought it was about becoming a master of silver—forcing it to bend to my will, shaping it into whatever I envisioned. But over time, I realized silver isn’t something to conquer; it’s something to collaborate with. It’s a dance, a quiet conversation. The silver has its own rhythm, its own will. I’ve learned to recognize when it’s spent, when it needs to be annealed, and when it’s ready to move again. This isn’t intuition alone—its skill earned over time, a mastery built from patience and understanding. It’s knowing that thick, heavy metals won’t yield to force but to balance—a delicate interplay of heat, flame, and trust.
In the same way, each piece I make reflects not just my story but the stories waiting to be discovered by those who wear them. Jewelry has the ability to hold memories and emotions, to remind us of who we are and where we come from. That’s what I hope my clients feel when they wear my work—that they’re not just adorning themselves, but connecting to their own stories, their own power. That’s the connection I strive to create with every piece I make.
Seeing clients connect with my work on such a personal level is one of the greatest rewards of this craft. I remember one client who was moved to tears when she put on a heart ring I created. Moments like that remind me that jewelry is more than silver and stones—it’s about creating something deeply personal, something that resonates with meaning and memory.
Every piece I make is a balance of precision and storytelling. It’s not just about adornment; it’s about honoring culture, celebrating individuality, and giving clients something they can carry forward as part of their own legacy. My journey as a silversmith is far from over, but with each creation, I take another step forward, another chance to craft beauty that connects and inspires.
The Intentional Journey
I don’t advertise. My work isn’t meant to be found in passing—it’s meant to find the right person, as if it were always meant to be. Word-of-mouth recommendations, personal referrals, and curated exhibitions are how my jewelry reaches its audience. This approach reflects my commitment to exclusivity, authenticity, and intentionality. It’s about quality over quantity and creating something meaningful rather than chasing trends. Every piece I make is crafted with care, meant for those who value the connection as much as the craft.