It’s strange how the absence of light can still have a presence. That colour you only see when your eyes are closed, it doesn’t come from the outside world. It’s a colour made of your own thoughts, memories, dreams. Even when your eyes are closed, you can still see something.
The mind builds realities inside that grey. Something you’ve never seen, but somehow know so well. A place that feels familiar but impossible, like a memory that doesn’t belong to you.
A building with no windows, no way out. Just corridors and doors that lead back to the same place. You walk through it, trapped inside its architecture like a thought that keeps repeating.
A National Park, deserted, quiet, full of things, yet incomplete. Could it be Yellow Stone?
The ground beneath feels so ancient, but what you’re walking on is a part of your own mind. The more you walk, the more it feels like you’re moving into a different layer of time. Like uncovering pieces of your own memory.
The living room of your house, petting your animal. Sitting comfortably on your couch while listening carefully to what your pet has to say. It's a quiet message you're meant to understand.
You’re not exactly afraid, you’re just stuck in it, suspended in that space between consciousness and sleep. That’s the nature of Eigengrau, a liminal colour that holds you in that strange threshold. The colour of the mind trying to make sense of darkness, and getting trapped inside its own construct.
A dream you can’t wake up from, not because you’re asleep, but because it belongs to a part of you that stays wide awake in the dark.
So, when you finally close your eyes, even in the absolute darkness, you still see something.
What is it, is it a nightmare or a dream?
Creative Director Julius Juul
Campaign by Unveil