Degrees reflects on the emotional distance that forms when vulnerability is met with discomfort or silence. The work becomes a lens through which to examine how society responds to invisible pain.

The image, muted and restrained, features a partially withdrawn hand suspended in cool tones. It evokes not just isolation, but the quiet defense mechanisms built when expressions of struggle are minimized or ignored.

Degrees speaks to a wide dynamic, how illness, or difference often compel people to hide what hurts. It holds space for those who have learned to shrink themselves in order to remain palatable, and poses a quiet challenge: what kind of world are we creating when vulnerability feels unsafe?

Reflection

There’s a loneliness that no crowd can cure, one that settles in our bones and makes even light feel distant. In Degrees, that chill becomes visual: the slow fading, the emotional frostbite that follows repeated misunderstanding. We learn to stay quiet, not because we don’t want connection, but because we’re unsure it will meet us with care.

And yet, the gospel never shies away from our ache. God draws near to the lonely, not just to comfort, but to restore. He knows what it means to be misunderstood, rejected, even silenced. In our coldest spaces, He becomes the warmth we long for. His presence crosses the gaps we cannot.

Even when no one else can see it, He does. And He stays.

“Turn to me and be gracious to me, for I am lonely and afflicted.”  Psalm 25:16

Reflection Question

Where have you grown silent in fear of not being understood, and how might you let God meet you there instead?