I made myself this award after moving back into my parents’ home as an adult. I felt the urge to prove to them, or maybe to myself, that I had changed and grown since the last time I lived with them.

Every Sunday, I have a routine: I cut my nails short and apply a coat or two of nail polish.

If I leave my nails long and unattended, I bite them. The act of collecting lives in me, so naturally, as I began cutting the ten distal edges of my nail beds, my instinct was to collect. Grouped together, these tiny fragments become a record of growth and the time it takes to achieve it.

I started collecting my fingernails a month before coming up with the award. I was sure I would have enough to fill the 12 cm glass tube. To my surprise, the image to the right shows just how far I got. It wasn't enough. This was not immediate proof that I had grown. I still had work to do. I was humbled.