Breath Before the Blade
“What is remembered in silence cannot be lost.”
The rain had passed before I arrived, but the stone still held its breath. I stepped into the hush of the corridor, where the carved armies of the Mahabharata stretched endlessly across the wall. The air was thick with the after-scent of water and old thunder. The figures, for all their fury and motion, seemed to float.
And then—there he was.
One dancer. One soldier. One soul in mid-stride.
He was not larger than the others, not central in the frieze, not crowned or adorned. But something in the way he lifted his foot—lightly, almost shyly—and raised his hand toward nothing, held me still. The gesture was not martial. It was reverent. As if the moment before the blow were more sacred than any glory it might bring.
I stood there, breath slowing. I could not photograph immediately. I waited until the gesture no longer seemed like stone, but memory—until I felt what the shadow still remembered.
stone arm lifted high—
a breath stilled before the storm,
shadow falls in light
Also in My Journal
A Scroll Carried by Wind
Zhou Daguan came to Angkor to observe—but found a kingdom that defied explanation. This introductory scroll welcomes new readers into The Wind That Carried Me to Zhenla: a poetic resurrection of the 13th-century emissary’s journey, revoiced with reverence, wonder, and the hush of temple stone.
The Goddess of the Golden Tower
There is a tower the moon remembers—where a king once climbed in silence, and a goddess wove humility into gold. Though the spire has faded, her presence lingers in the hush between breath and stone, waiting for the next soul who dares to kneel before the unseen.
Phimeanakas and the Goddess of Sovereignty
Within the Royal Enclosure of Angkor Thom stands Phimeanakas—the Celestial Palace. More than a monument, it is a myth made stone: where kings bowed to the goddess of the land, and sovereignty meant surrender. A contemplative meditation on sacred architecture, divine right, and the quiet power that still lives between the stones.
$250
Angkor Wat Temple, 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)
In the hush of Angkor Wat’s storm-washed corridors, a lone dancer stirs the stone. He is carved into the great Mahabharata relief—a Kaurava soldier, mid-stride, one hand lifted not in violence, but in invocation. Though his fate is sealed, the gesture endures.
The wall around him surges with warriors, yet this figure holds the eye. His pose is graceful, vital, filled with a beauty that mourns its own vanishing. He dances not for triumph, but for remembrance—for the spark that flickers just before it is lost.
Lucas Varro encountered this moment in silence, and rendered it with equal care. Captured on large format black-and-white film with a long exposure, the negative was later shaped using classical chiaroscuro techniques. Each print is hand-toned by the artist to coax forth the radiance buried in the stone.
This is a museum-quality archival pigment print on Hahnemühle Bamboo paper. The edition is strictly limited to 25, with 2 Artist’s Proofs. Signed and numbered on border recto, each piece is crafted as a contemplative threshold.
He lifted his hand,
and the centuries stood still.
Click here to enter the Artist’s Journal and follow the echo of his breath.
