Umbra Incubation (umbra: shadow & incubation: hatching, sheltered growth) contemplates three eggs swelling in darkness against a cold grey ground. They mark a temporal order stretched between past, present and what is about to arrive sealed, breathing, and listening.
Half lit greens surface like quiet signals of life. Within the husk, light circulates where secrecy has gathered; the strokes carry both energy and protection, suggesting a roof under which growth waits with patience. Here, shadow is not erasure but refuge an architecture for promise.
Umbra Incubation maps the mind’s cyclical time: the unsaid we keep, the inner movements we cannot share, the ripening that continues anyway. It invites the viewer to stand with anticipation to feel how hope thickens in silence before it breaks the shell.