I love my hands. Some people are born with delicate hands and some people, like me, are born with strong hands with long fingers. I give firm handshakes to tell people I mean business and I have a pretty impressive death grip. However, my wrists are brittle and tiny. They’ve suffered fractures and years of abuse. I find this oddly cute. It is like my tiny wrists are trying valiantly to protect my hands from all the pain I inflict on them. When I should have broken a finger, I fracture my wrist. When I should have broken two fingers, I fracture my wrist again. They’re in this together. It’s quite romantic, really.
Photographer: Jon Duenas