The self-described "rebel of the jewellery industry" John Miller has been honing his craft for 50 years, and his intricate work is some of the most recognisable art inspired by the flora and fauna of WA's South West.
The 67-year-old spends hours each day working in the studio he built on a picturesque bush block near the tiny coastal town of Yallingup.
With no plans to slow down any time soon, Mr Miller's lifelong passion for creativity and experimentation began in his childhood backyard.
"My bedroom looked very much like my workshop does today," he said.
"I was obsessed with metal and tools, and I had a secret chemistry set behind the garage where I had bottles of methylated spirits where I would set fire to steel wool and things.
"I loved polishing old coins, pulling clocks and transformers apart. It's a wonder I didn't blow myself up."
Enrolling at the Claremont School of Art, Mr Miller says it became apparent that he was a little bit obsessive with his work and enjoyed very fine line drawing.
"One of my drawing teachers told me I'd be very good at jewellery, but I kind of dismissed it because I thought jewellery was a bit like crochet or knitting or embroidery," he said.
A jeweller with a stack of other skills
A few years later, and a chance encounter in a pub, saw Mr Miller take up a position in a jewellery shop which opened his eyes to the world of silver.
"I figured it out pretty quickly and I started making chains and beaten things," he said.
"I just thought silver was wonderful. It was this new metal that I hadn't encountered before that was clean and bright and loved to be worked, moulded, formed, and hammered."
In the years following, Mr Miller expanded his resume to include a variety of different roles and skill sets outside of jewellery creation.
He was encouraged by friends to attend the Western Australian Academy of Performing Arts and worked for a time in film, theatre, and radio production.
Then as an accomplished musician, he had a short and successful career busking on the streets of Europe.
The jewellery trade took him to Darwin where he became practised in the art of setting opals on gemstone expeditions to Sri Lanka and India, and a stint in the remote northern WA town of Broome.
"Broome just seemed really romantic and delightfully isolated and tropical. I love the bush," he said.
"I set up a jewellery shop and everybody said 'who's going to buy jewellery in Broome? What are you thinking?'
"But that was ultimately tremendously successful and a great source of inspiration for me."
Stamping his mark on the industry
Drawing upon skills learned in his high school metal workshop, Mr Miller started handcrafting stamping tools with native flora and fauna designs carved into the tip.
"I thought if I make a little punch with a pearl lugger, a pearl shell and a boab tree, that's Broome," he said.
"I can stamp that onto a ring, which I did, and it was very successful. They were snapped up by everybody.
"So I just went on expanding on it, remodelled old tools, and I made fish and kangaroos, sharks, dolphins, and then mermaids and divers.
"And there seemed at that stage no limit to what I could do in that direction."
As well as hand engraving background details and carved landscapes into each piece, Mr Miller explores many more jewellery techniques outside of his unique stamps.
"I like to think of myself as the rebel of the jewellery industry. It probably doesn't do us any good financially but we do make our pieces from the ground up," he said.
"I didn't really just want to be the stamping guy, so I'm working on other techniques like hot metal fusing where I put little bits of metal together and make them into silver or gold rings or bracelets.
"I go home at night and I draw, even though I don't need to be drawing at night.
"I've got enough books, I've got a shed full of sketchbooks, that would keep me going for five lifetimes with ideas. But I keep doing it anyway."
Jewellery to hand down through generations
Mr Miller's two retail stores are often filled with repeat customers and he finds joy in seeing pieces he made return to his shop after decades.
"I make jewellery to last so people keep wearing it," he said.
"It's something that becomes part of people's identity.
"A lot of jewellery is kind of designed with planned obsolescence in mind so you have to keep going back to the commercial chain stores to get a new one or get it repaired.
"I don't do that."
Although it does take up an awful lot of the jeweller's time, living next door to his studio does help him find comfort in his work.
"I'm quite happy here," he said.
"I live with my birds and my beasts. I've got my wonderful community of staff and jewellers around me, and I've got lots of really interesting people that come in and see me daily.
"I do have some other distractions and activities. I play music with the boys three nights a week, and I love the fact that I can still get up and entertain an audience — which is a beautiful contrast to sitting here fiddling with tiny bits of metal."
