Once upon a time, there was a boy who became spellbound by a delicate jewel resting on a woman’s neck—a sight so mesmerizing that he never forgot it. Back then, he didn’t even know that what he had seen was called filigree, but that necklace stayed etched in his memory. Many years later, he realized that he had to follow that childhood calling. And that is exactly what Luis Leonardo Domínguez has done for more than fifty years. Today, he is a distinguished jeweler in Armenia, the city he chose to call home in his sixties.

As he recalls his story, that first encounter with filigree returns vividly to his mind. Yet, for a long time, it had been hidden away in the folds of memory, replaced by another moment: a simple errand from his mother, who asked him to take a small chain to the neighborhood jeweler for repair. Something was lit within him, and now he believes it may have been the spark from that childhood vision coming back. From then on, he could never pull himself away from metals. He would stand beside the jewelers, watching them work with fascination, striking up conversations, and volunteering as their errand boy just to stay close and learn from them. Later came coffee, billiards, and friendships—always framed by his deep respect for the craft. His persistence paid off when, one day, a jeweler finally asked if he wanted to help. You can imagine his answer.

That was the true beginning of his career: moving from theory to practice, asking the concrete questions of how to solder, how to laminate, how to replace a ring or set a precious stone. His dedication even led him to take a course at the SENA to refine his techniques. But reality soon pressed in, and he had to find other work to make a living, as his passion wasn’t yet enough to sustain him. He worked as an assistant in a factory in El Restrepo—Bogotá’s traditional leatherworking district—then as an usher at the Plaza de Toros de Santamaría, until a job at Ponqué Ramo as an accounting assistant allowed him to begin married life at 26 with some stability.

Still, as he entered his thirties, jewelry—filigree, especially—kept pulsing inside him, driving him to learn more and more about this magnificent art. At its epicenter is a warm riverside town on one of the branches of the Magdalena River: Mompox. Curiously enough, he knows everything about this town in Bolívar, has befriended many master artisans from there, and was even recognized in Bogotá as one of the five best non-Momposino filigree jewelers—yet he has never set foot in Mompox. That remains unfinished business. And yet, he embodies the spirit of someone who doesn’t need to be there to create what comes from there. With emotion, he recounts that of the more than fifty years he has devoted to jewelry, thirty-one have been dedicated to the art of filigree.

Luis Leonardo moved to Quindío for love—and to escape the cold of the capital. There he lives happily with his wife, immersed in his tools and metals. He carries with him a lifetime arsenal of implements, many of his own invention, which allow him to craft his precious pieces. Today, much of his inspiration comes from the coffee-growing landscape, filling his repertoire with butterflies, hummingbirds, flowers, coffee beans, and quimbaya poporos. In fact, he is currently devising a way to create a jipao, the traditional Willys Jeep loaded with sacks and people, climbing through the mountains of this beautiful region.

And so, this man from Cali—who lived almost his entire life in Bogotá—now belongs to the Association of Artisans of Quindío and is recognized among the great masters of this land. He creates Mompox filigree in a style uniquely his own, always honoring that childhood image that was never anything less than pure beauty.