A Lotus Held in the Breath of Stone
The corridor breathed in. Columns receded into shadow. I moved without sound, not from caution but from reverence. Something in the stillness felt intact. As if nothing had been lost—only quieted.
And there she stood.
A Devata. Her form neither posed nor hidden. One hand holding a lotus. The other resting just above the navel, mid-thought. Light from the open roof brushed her face—not revealing, but remembering. It moved slowly, like a hand reaching for an old touch. I raised the lens with care. There was no wind. Even the dust was still.
The exposure was long. The silence longer.
Later, in the studio, I shaped the film with breath. I did not craft her image—I listened for what still lived inside it.
She waits
not for time
but for the breath before itLotus at her side—
not a sign
but a silence heldThe gods are not gone;
they have merely
slipped into stoneAnd those who still listen
may find them
waiting
Also in Library
Where a Name Could Not Follow
A boy in the sandstone quarries beneath Phnom Kulen learns the first law of sacred building: not strength, not speed, but attention. Where a Name Could Not Follow imagines the life of an unnamed Angkorean stone-master whose hands helped move mountain into temple — and whose name vanished where the stone endured.
The Apsara Against the Assembly Line
In the darkroom, the print rises slowly from the tray: silver darkening into shadow, stone gathering itself from blankness. At Angkor, the apsaras offer the same lesson. Though repeated in their thousands, each waits to be seen. Against the assembly line of speed and sameness, slowness restores the soul’s signature.
The Wall That Still Holds Them
Two presences endure within a wall that no longer closes seamlessly around them. One withdraws into shadow; the other comes further into the light of legibility. Around them, fracture, erosion, and carved stone become a single field of custody, where grace survives within damage, not beyond it.
$895
Angkor Wat, Angkor, Cambodia — 2020
Limited Edition Archival Pigment Print
Edition
Strictly limited to 7 prints + 2 Artist’s Proofs
Edition Number
This listing is for the first numbered print from the Large Collector Edition: 1/7
Medium
Hand-toned black-and-white archival pigment print on Hahnemühle Bamboo — a museum-grade fine art paper chosen for its quiet tactility and reverent depth, echoing the spirit of the temples.
Signature & Numbering
Each print is individually signed and numbered by the artist on the border (recto)
Certificate of Authenticity
Accompanies every print
Image Size
28 x 28 inches (71.1 x 71.1 cm)
Light arrives as a breath, threading the broken roof of Angkor Wat’s Cruciform Galleries and finding a Devata carved into shadow. A lotus rests in her hand; her gaze bows toward the floor as if listening for a music long withdrawn. For one reverent moment, the centuries loosen their grip.
The corridor—quiet as inhalation—echoes with neither chant nor footfall. Columns recede into darkness, yet the stone figure lifts a tremor of dawn into the heart of the temple. She is remembrance carved into presence.
I met her in that hush. Composed on large-format black-and-white film during a prolonged exposure, the negative gathered silence instead of motion. In the darkroom I coaxed chiaroscuro forward, hand-toning each print until light spoke with the softness I first felt.
Printed on warm-toned Hahnemühle Bamboo paper, this museum-grade archival pigment print is part of a strictly limited edition of twenty-five, with two Artist’s Proofs. Each piece is signed, numbered, and accompanied by a Certificate of Authenticity.
A sanctum of stillness for those willing to receive.
To step into the silence behind the image, click here to explore the Artist’s Journal.
Previously titled ‘Apsara I, Angkor Wat Temple, Cambodia. 2020,’ this photograph has been renamed to better reflect its place in the series and its spiritual tone. The edition, provenance, and authenticity remain unchanged.