Beneath the Storm, the Gaze Remains
“The watcher does not ask, only remembers.”
The ground was still wet with the last hush of rain. I moved through the half-light of Banteay Kdei, the temple barely breathing beneath its own weight. Ahead, a face emerged from the broken western gate—not whole, not lost, but listening.
I stood with the camera as a monk might kneel—offering presence, not action. Around us, vines wrote their silent sutras. Lichen shimmered faintly on stone as if touched by distant thunder. And the mist, that sacred intermediary between worlds, held the ruin like breath between prayers.
I did not speak. The shutter would open when it was time.
ruined faces breathe
dawn-storm gathers stone and hush
centuries hold watch
When I returned to the studio, I shaped the image not to reveal, but to remember. Each print—hand-toned, quiet—carries that same early morning breath.
More from the Library
Houses of Wood, Light, and Smoke
Some of Angkor’s most intimate ruins do not rise above the ground at all. They are postholes, low mounds, hearths and ponds: durable traces of a domestic city built largely from things that decay. To restore that city is to see Angkor not only as stone, but as wood, smoke, water, repair, and people living within calling distance.
What Stone Brings Forth
I had mistaken a gift for something being expelled.
Beneath the nāga's mouth, a stone garland descended bead by bead. Nearby, a makara opened its jaws and another form emerged. Looking closer, the whole temple began to change: serpent became ornament, ornament became architecture, architecture became foliage.
The forest did not introduce this language.
It answered it.
The Eighth Daughter
Seven daughters have already been taken by Yamata-no-Orochi when Susanoo reaches the River Hi. Only Kushinada-hime remains. The Eighth Daughter retells the Kojiki episode through a family’s waiting, a girl transformed into a comb, and the patient preparation for the serpent’s return.
$895
Banteay Kdei Temple, 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)
Storm-heavy dawn cloaks the western gate of Banteay Kdei, where a fractured guardian face rises from a broken tower—its gaze turned not outward, but inward. Light moves across the ruin like breath through a reed, quiet and shaping. Moss clings to cracked lips. Vines trace their own soft sutras.
The silence is not absence—it is memory. A stillness that bears witness to centuries of devotion and decay. In this hush, the ruin becomes a kind of offering, neither whole nor lost, but entirely present.
I stood before it with the lens steady and my breath slower than the wind. The shutter opened long enough for storm and mist to thread their weight into the emulsion. Later, in the studio, I shaped the image with chiaroscuro, deepening shadows to reveal light’s edge. Each print is hand-toned—its warmth born not of color, but of reverence.
This limited edition of twenty-five archival pigment prints (with two Artist’s Proofs) is printed on museum-grade Hahnemühle Bamboo paper. The tactile quiet of the paper holds the image like an echo holds sound. Each print is signed and numbered on the border recto, accompanied by a Certificate of Authenticity.
Let this sentinel find its stillness within your own sacred threshold.
Previously titled ‘Face-Tower Ruin, Banteay Kdei 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.