Complimentary worldwide shipping on orders over $400 · No import tariffs for most countries

0

Your Cart is Empty

The hush gathered before I did.  It was already there—pooled in the lion’s carved breath, stitched into the palm’s vertical hush.  The air was thick with that listening that precedes rain, when the world has not gone quiet, but become alert.

I set the tripod gently, my breath slowed to match theirs.  Something in me fell silent—not from awe, but from accord.

Light shifted, barely.  Wind braided itself and unravelled.  I waited not for the image, but for permission.


They do not face us.
They turn toward a horizon
held inside the gathering cloud.

Stone curves into a question;
bark ascends like a single breath.

Between them, wind unravels
its own small myth of passing.

Neither flinches.
Neither blinks.
They were sent to listen,
and listening has made them real.

Even the storm
borrows their patience.


Also in Library

Before the Shutter Falls
Before the Shutter Falls

3 min read

Before the shutter falls, fear sharpens and doubt measures the cost of waiting. In the quiet hours before dawn, the act of not-yet-beginning becomes a discipline of attention. This essay reflects on patience, restraint, and the quiet mercy that arrives when outcome loosens its hold.

Read More
A red-and-black chalk sketch of an Angkor terrace at dawn: a broom leaning on a square column, a water bowl, a folded cloth, and a freshly swept stone path.
Those Who Keep the Way Open — On the Quiet Guardians of Angkor’s Thresholds

3 min read

Quiet gestures shape the way into Angkor — a swept stone, a refilled bowl, a hand steadying a guardian lion. This essay reflects on the unseen custodians whose daily care keeps the thresholds open, revealing how sacredness endures not through stone alone, but through those who tend its meaning.

Read More
A red and black chalk study of a Bayon face tower in soft morning light, shown in three-quarter profile with calm, lowered eyelids.
Multiplicity and Mercy — The Face Towers of Jayavarman VII

5 min read

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.

Read More