There’s comfort in fog.
The air sinks, softly blanketing the space around us, limiting vision to the immediate and slowing time to the imminent.
It conceals the vastness of the world to impart a feeling of weightlessness and discovery, a living, breathing liminal space of possibility.
There’s comfort in the unknown.
This is temporary.
It conceals the vastness of the world to impart a feeling of weightlessness and discovery, a living, breathing liminal space of possibility.
There’s comfort in the unknown.
This is temporary.