Built around the stone. Designed around the person. Never the other way around.

The Other Hand was built quietly—in the shadows.

Long before it had a name, years were spent behind the scenes designing for private clients, sourcing exceptional stones, and helping bring extraordinary jewelry to life without ever signing it.

My foundation is fine art, with a background in painting and sculpture that evolved into a BFA in jewelry, metals, and CAD/CAM. From there came a decade inside the trade: beginning at the bench, moving through CAD and shop management, and ultimately into directing production and design for a major diamond house.

That wasn't accidental.

I learned early that extraordinary jewelry is rarely the work of a single hand. Behind every finished piece is an accumulation of decisions—what to pursue, what to change, what to leave alone, and when to say no altogether. Years spent inside that process, often without fanfare or a name attached, sharpened what I came to value most: discernment.

Formal training taught me how to build jewelry. A decade spent making it taught me what was actually worth making.

Over time, instinct became its own kind of expertise: recognizing exceptional stones, understanding how form and material should speak to one another, anticipating technical problems before they exist, and knowing when the strongest design decision is restraint.

Recognition was never the point.

The work always was.

Every piece begins with the stone.

Before I think about setting, metal, or mechanics, I spend time understanding what’s already there—proportion, optical behavior, personality, limitations, strengths. I don’t believe great jewelry begins with a sketch. It begins with understanding what’s in front of you.

I've often described the process as framing a painting. A well-designed frame doesn't compete with the artwork it surrounds; it provides context, directs the eye, and reveals what was already worthy of attention. Thoughtful jewelry should do the same.

That means there are no predetermined settings waiting for the right stone to arrive, and no house aesthetic a client or gemstone is expected to fit inside. Whether I'm sourcing an heirloom-quality diamond, designing around an extraordinary colored stone, or reimagining something already part of someone's story, the material sets the terms.

Design, more often than not, is an exercise in editing. Every line, surface, stone, and prong should justify its existence. Sometimes the answer is adding something. More often, it's knowing what to leave alone.

No two stones ask the same question.

They shouldn't receive the same answer.

The Other Hand was never intended to be everything to everyone.

It’s built around remarkable stones, thoughtful design, and a process that takes a different shape every time. There is no standard starting point, no predetermined formula, and no expectation that you arrive already knowing exactly what you’re looking for.

I’m here to design, purvey, problem-solve, and edit—to turn an idea, a stone, or sometimes just an instinct into something extraordinary for those who don’t see themselves in a collection.

I make things differently because the people I make them for see things differently. They know when the expected answer isn’t theirs.

That’s The Other Hand.

Maybe you found your way here by algorithm. Maybe you followed the signs. However it happened, I’m glad you did.

Call me V.