Before the Shutter, a Breath
A single leaf moved, then stilled. The wind, like the breath of someone dreaming, passed gently through and was gone. Rain clung to the fig’s bark in thin silver strands. The threshold held its posture—open, but not offering.
The scene had completed itself. All that remained was to listen. To lower the camera like an offering. To place one’s silence against another silence and wait.
The shutter opened. Light gathered without urgency, as if drawn by scent rather than speed.
The roots remember more than the wall—
sky translated into sap,
stone softened by chant,
names the Kala continues to chew.Within their narrow veins,
silence travels—
a slow, deliberate river
seeking the temple’s unlit heart.And I,
a brief glint of stillness,
carry back one breath
before it returns
to hush.
Also in Library
Stone That Remembers the Sky
This poem listens to Angkor not as ruin, but as grammar—where moss, shadow, and proportion carry devotion forward without spectacle. What endures here is not glory, but measure: a way of standing that no longer needs witnesses.
Rice-Ghost and the Seven Drums
At harvest, the danger is not hunger but forgetting how to listen.
This folklore retelling speaks of drums struck for silence, of grain taken without gratitude, and of a narrow figure who does not punish—only waits. A tale of pacts made not with spirits, but with attention itself.
Naga Vow
A lost city sleeps in the jungle, its thresholds carved with serpents — not ornament, but law. This vow-poem enters love as sacred hunger: desire as guardianship, devotion as possession, the body speaking without language. A liturgy of heat, roots, rain, and the terrible tenderness of being claimed.
$250
Ta Prohm, Angkor, 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 are doorways that do not open into rooms, but into listening.
At Ta Prohm, before the jungle stirred, I stood before one such portal. Two trees—one strangling, one yielding—had braided themselves into the stone, their roots clinging like hands to a forgotten threshold. Above, the Kala’s mouth devoured time. Below, silence pressed against the dark.
The photograph was made slowly, as breath returned to the forest after rain. I worked with a large-format analogue camera, allowing the long exposure to gather what little light there was. In the studio, I shaped each silver tone by hand, using classical chiaroscuro to echo not just the scene, but the hush I felt inside it.
The final print is an 8 × 8-inch archival pigment print on museum-grade Hahnemühle Bamboo paper. The edition is strictly limited to 25, with 2 Artist’s Proofs. Each piece is hand-toned, signed, and numbered on border recto, and includes a certificate of authenticity.
Let this image become a threshold of stillness in your space.
Click here to step through the breath of the image into the Artist’s Journal.
Previously titled ‘Strangled Doorway, Ta Prohm Temple, Angkor, 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.
