Mist explores the subtle weight of living with what others can’t see. The artist reflects on the tension between wanting to belong and not wanting to be exposed.

The imagery is soft, hazy, and intentionally obscured, hands partially visible through a blurred foreground. This visual barrier mirrors the internal conflict of how much to reveal, and to whom. The translucent shield becomes symbolic: protection, yes, but also separation, discomfort, and difference.

Mist speaks to the experiences of many who live with invisible conditions, those who weigh the risks of being misunderstood against the need to be seen. It’s a study in restraint, and a meditation on the quiet ways we self-edit in the name of survival.

Mist captures the fog of invisibility, the moments when we choose silence over explanation, isolation over risk. For many living with chronic or invisible conditions, vulnerability feels costly. It’s easier to hide. But in doing so, we may also conceal the parts of ourselves that long to be understood.

God sees through the mist. He knows the parts of us we try to cover. He meets us in our hesitation, not with shame, but with understanding. In Scripture, we are reminded again and again that we are not alone. That being fully seen is not something to fear, but something to receive with courage.

“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”  Psalm 34:18

Reflection Question

Where in your life have you been hiding your pain, and what might happen if you allowed yourself to be seen there?