Small Hands
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Small Hands came up in San Diego. Cancer. Grew up punk in Southern California and called it a hell of a ride. Religious household kept him from fucking around as a kid. He ran from cops once and lived to brag about it. Before porn he chased music—amps, sweat, the roar of ten thousand people clapping like thunder. That dream cracked open when Joanna Angel phoned him one afternoon: her editor lost the footage, a deadline was breathing down her neck, and they were filming raw that night. No grand plan. He walked in for a favor and never walked out. Spinal Tap sits at the top of his shelf because the line between joke and truth feels too thin. Horror and thrillers scratch the same itch—dark shit, plain and simple. Off camera he cuts video, writes riffs, sketches covers. Pure Taboo shoots feel like the perfect mess: sweat-slick bodies, sharp dialogue, broken people doing broken things. Every scene tastes filthy and cinematic at once. He won’t guess how it shapes the world; that’s the world’s call. When asked about getting caught, he just grins—says he hasn’t yet.
Small Hands came up in San Diego. Cancer. Grew up punk in Southern California and called it a hell of a ride. Religious household kept him from fucking around as a kid. He ran from cops once and lived to brag about it. Before porn he chased music—amps, sweat, the roar of ten thousand people clapping like thunder. That dream cracked open when Joanna Angel phoned him one afternoon: her editor lost the footage, a deadline was breathing down her neck, and they were filming raw that night. No grand plan. He walked in for a favor and never walked out. Spinal Tap sits at the top of his shelf because the line between joke and truth feels too thin. Horror and thrillers scratch the same itch—dark shit, plain and simple. Off camera he cuts video, writes riffs, sketches covers. Pure Taboo shoots feel like the perfect mess: sweat-slick bodies, sharp dialogue, broken people doing broken things. Every scene tastes filthy and cinematic at once. He won’t guess how it shapes the world; that’s the world’s call. When asked about getting caught, he just grins—says he hasn’t yet.