The air was bright and hazy, warm in the sun but cool in the shade. I spent the afternoon in Jinsiangu’s quiet garden, listening to stories from staff and volunteers, accounts of journeys where life and work had intertwined with purpose.
Destiny quickly pulled me out of documentation mode and into collaboration—a photoshoot, you could say. She moved with practiced ease, tilting her head, pursing her lips, resting a hand on her cheek. Her nails caught the light like wet paint. She knew her angles; I simply followed Destiny’s lead.
Photographing her became one way to capture gender, how Destiny presented herself to the world through nails, hair, hips, and heels. Beneath the surface, though, was something lived — the deeper layers that shaped her identity: survival, joy, and ownership of self. Destiny, a trans woman, had come to Jinsiangu after living on the street, found shelter, therapy, practical skills training, and later her calling as a peer educator. “I’m now that version of myself,” she said. “I feel much better.” She also spoke about the future, saying she hopes to open a support room for the trans community, “so others won’t have to go through what I’ve experienced.”
Through the reflection on the car door, she looked radiant and self-assured, even as she spoke of the years living between versions of self. The photo catches her mid-turn, eyes steady. A portrait of Destiny and her destiny, her chosen name reflecting her truth, a life claimed as her own.
#moments series
Every frame tells a fragment of a story—unplanned, fleeting, and unfiltered. These single-image posts capture the unscripted moments. Sometimes they speak to the work; sometimes they simply breathe life between frames. Explore the series →
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