Roman and I met when I was just 18 and he was 21. From the start, we were inseparable. He worked at the local coffee house I frequented to watch the latest bands, and before long, there wasn’t a single day we weren’t together.

After two years, we moved into our first apartment and adopted two older cats, Zappa and Cheddar, from the local shelter. Those two made our first place feel like a real home — the kind filled with laughter, music, and the quiet comfort of four paws always nearby.

A few years later, we married when I was 24. Zappa and Cheddar had lived long, full lives, and after their passing, we found ourselves missing the warmth of a pet in our home. One evening, while I was working at a café, I spotted a lonely orange-and-white cat wandering the parking lot. He wasn’t a kitten — just a confident, golden-eyed fellow who clearly needed someone. I scooped him up and brought him home, much to Roman’s surprise. We named him Ike, and from that moment, he was part of our family.

When Roman started working at a neon sign shop, we moved again — this time to a townhouse with a garage. Watching the guys bend glass tubing for neon signs fascinated him. That inspiration sparked a new creative path: we began experimenting with glasswork of our own. Before long, we had a small torch setup in our garage and were spending nights making glass beads and sculptures together.

Roman’s days at the neon shop were long, but one afternoon, his exhaustion turned to compassion. He heard frantic meowing outside — a tiny Siamese kitten stranded up a tree. Despite being bone-tired, Roman climbed up and brought the little cat home. We named him Sucker. He was mischievous, charming, and absolutely ours (though Ike wasn’t so sure at first).    

Not long after, we discovered we were expecting a child. We moved into a house with a backyard, and soon after, our son Anthony was born. I left my café job to stay home with him, and Roman eventually left the neon shop too — our small glass-bead business had grown enough to support us full-time.

It was the dream: to live and work together from home, surrounded by the people (and pets) we loved. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner as a family — and plenty of glasswork in between.

But as life reminds us, joy and loss often share the same road. One evening, our beloved cat Sucker didn’t come home. He was never one to roam far, and despite days of searching, we never found him. Losing him without answers was devastating. Ike, our steadfast companion, seemed to grieve right alongside us. He and young Anthony became inseparable — spending long afternoons together in our workshop, where Ike would often sprawl across the coloring pages or nap near the torch.

Twelve years passed in what felt like a heartbeat. Ike grew older, slower, and harder of hearing. One tragic day, he was sleeping peacefully in his bed at the shop when a neighborhood dog ran inside and attacked him. Roman chased them down, but by the time he pulled Ike free, it was too late. Losing Ike shattered us.

And yet, as life often does, it offered something healing just when we needed it most. In the midst of our grief, a customer reached out, asking if we could create a memorial bead to honor her cat who had passed away. The timing was uncanny — we were living her exact pain. I’ve always believed she was sent to us for a reason.

We made her memorial bead and, in turn, created one for Ike. The act of crafting something beautiful from such deep sorrow sparked a transformation. That was the beginning of Locked In Art.

  Long before we lost Ike, we had already begun working with precious metals under our first business, Atlantis Glass & Bead. After that loss, the path was clear: we would combine our glass and metalwork to help others find healing, too. The first memorial bead we made for Ike changed everything — and soon, customers began reaching out for pieces to honor their own loved ones. What began as one heartfelt project grew into something deeply meaningful.

We started offering our cremation jewelry through Poseidon’s Booty, our second shop. It quickly became our most requested work, and the responses from our customers were overwhelming. Their stories — of love, loss, and remembrance — reminded us that art can be both a tribute and a comfort.

Our journey eventually led us to pack up our California studio and head for Prescott, Arizona, in 2012. It was the perfect place to raise Anthony — and my parents were moving here too, which made it even better. We adopted our Basset Hound, Roscoe, from the local shelter, and he’s been our shop supervisor ever since (and an excellent nap coach).

Over time, Locked In Art became our full-time calling. Nothing has ever been more rewarding than helping families and pet owners create lasting keepsakes that carry love forward. Every order, every story, every email — they remind us why we do what we do.

As the years have passed, our son Anthony has grown up, graduated college, and started his own adventures. These days, Roman and I are officially empty nesters — and loving it! Prescott continues to be our perfect home base, surrounded by endless pine forests and winding trails. We’ve hiked over 4,000 miles in the Prescott National Forest and know those trails like the back of our hands. Hiking and camping have become our way to reconnect, recharge, and stay inspired — the same creative energy that first drew us to the torch still burns bright out there under the Arizona sky.

Our love for craftsmanship has also expanded beyond memorial work. We now pour our passion for metal design into another brand — Jet Fighter Jewelry — where we honor the beauty and history of military aviation through handcrafted silver and gold designs. All of our brands share the same foundation: handmade artistry, storytelling through metal and glass, and the joy of creating meaningful keepsakes that last a lifetime.

Whether we’re shaping molten glass into a memorial bead or cutting silver into the silhouette of a fighter jet, our mission remains the same: to create art with heart — pieces that carry love, memory, and connection forward.