A Stillness Deeper Than Victory
evening light lingers—
a fallen shield in shadow
keeps the hush of time
A hush gathers along the colonnade—as though the sandstone itself slows its breathing. Last sunlight does not descend; it rises from within the carvings, memory surfacing through centuries of dust.
The relief stills the storm of Kurukshetra. Hooves rear, spears arc, yet violence is absent. One soldier stands apart, shield lifted at the threshold of surrender or transcendence. I surrendered, too—exposing the large-format film in a single, unhurried breath.
In the darkroom I returned to feeling, not fact: myth’s ache, carved silence, the faint ember of something sacred. Hand-toning coaxed that ember into paper—gold and ash rather than black and white. What remains is aftermath: the silence following thunder, the breath that carries the soul across an unseen gate.
The warrior still waits—not for triumph, but for the light that remembers.
— L.V.
Also in Library
Multiplicity and Mercy — The Face Towers of Jayavarman VII
A new vision of kingship rises at the Bayon: serene faces turned to every horizon, shaping a world where authority is expressed as care. Moving through the terraces, one enters a field of steady, compassionate presence — a landscape where stone, light, and time teach through quiet attention.
Stone That Dreams
Bayon wakes like a mind emerging from shadow. Its many faces shift with light and breath, teaching that perception—and the self—is never singular. In walking this forest of towers, the pilgrim discovers a quiet multiplicity within, held together by a calm that feels both ancient and newly understood.
The Still Eye — Craft, Meditation, and the Listening Camera
In the darkroom, silver begins to breathe—and a morning at Bayon returns. The essay moves from tray to temple and back, tightening its centre around a single vow: consent, not capture. A butterfly’s tremor, a lintel at dawn, a print clearing in water. Craft becomes meditation; the camera, a quiet bowl for light.
$260
Angkor Wat Temple, Cambodia — 2020
Limited Edition Archival Pigment Print
Edition
Strictly limited to 25 prints + 2 Artist’s Proofs
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
8 x 8 inches (20.3 x 20.3 cm)
“There is a radiance that survives the clang of swords.”
A golden hush settles upon Angkor Wat’s western gallery. Here, the mythical Battle of Kurukshetra no longer roars; it breathes. A lone warrior—shield lifted—stands in the after-silence where conflict surrenders to memory. Late-afternoon light glides across the relief, awakening an inner glow that seems to rise from the stone itself.
During a solitary visit in 2020, photographer Lucas Varro waited, listening for that subtle radiance. Exposing large-format black-and-white film in a single, patient breath, he received the scene rather than seized it. In the darkroom he coaxed warmth into silver, hand-toning each print with whispers of gold that echo the canopy-filtered light of that evening.
Printed on museum-grade Hahnemühle Bamboo, renowned for its velvety surface and sustainable heart, every sheet becomes a quiet sanctuary for tone and texture. Limited to 25 signed prints (+ 2 Artist’s Proofs), the work offers permanence not only in craft but in contemplative presence.
Should this image find its way to your wall, may it stand as a still point—an illuminated threshold where stone remembers, and light speaks without sound.
Follow the quiet path into the Artist’s Journal to wander deeper into this hush.
Previously titled ‘Battle of Kurukshetra I, Study II, 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.
