With the pandemic, we retreated behind closed doors. I started exploring a process to make figures vanish as if into the mystery and comforting anonymity of the mist. Fog intrigues me in all its forms: morning mist, evening haze, creeping sea fog, gloomy miasma, freezing fog crusting everything in spiky rime, vapors rising from creek or bay, thick fog creeping down the mountains and swallowing up the valley, or will o’ wisps that appear like sprites on the mountainsides.