It started as a simple morning walk.
The fog was heavy that week — the kind that turns everything silent, as if the city was holding its breath.
I began taking pictures with my iPhone, fascinated by how light disappeared into the mist. Later, I brought them into Photoshop, where the line between memory and invention began to blur.
The figures came after — AI apparitions, quietly added to what was already there. The goal wasn’t to deceive, but to extend the feeling that the fog had already started to suggest: that something was out there, watching, waiting.
I. Mornings Have Become a Bit Gloomy
The first frame was a street I know well. Ordinary, almost mundane — except that morning, it didn’t feel that way.
Fog changes scale; it makes distances collapse. Everything feels closer, yet unreachable.
II. They Are Beckoning You to Come Closer...
The second image felt more deliberate.
I imagined something standing where visibility ends — not as a threat, but as a question. The kind of presence that doesn’t chase you, but invites you in.
III. Maybe That Road Is the Wrong One...
By the third, I understood the pattern.
These weren’t ghosts — they were directions, mirrors, choices. The fog became a metaphor for uncertainty, for how easily we mistake silence for absence.
On Process
All images were shot on iPhone, edited with Photoshop, and only the apparitions were AI-generated.
The intention was to merge realism and fiction — not to replace one with the other, but to see how both could coexist in a single frame.
Halloween has always been less about fear for me, and more about the unseen —
about the emotions, memories, and ideas that haunt quietly, long after the image fades.
