Breath Held in Stone
The trees did not speak. Even the wind withdrew, letting only the mist breathe. The moat received the silence without a ripple. The Deva stood at the threshold—not protecting, not commanding, simply there. His lean was not a gesture. It was listening.
Though his arms were worn by time, they still rested around the naga Vasuki—as if not restraining but remembering. This was not the posture of defence, but of devotion.
In the darkroom, I remembered that silence. I did not shape it into a print. I returned to it, again and again, coaxing the shadows until they softened like breath returning to a body.
His arm does not guard.
It listens. Rests.His torso leans like memory
into the unseen—
not broken, but softened
by centuries of quiet rain.The naga coils at his side.
They are joined still.
Not by force,
but by remembrance.Mist does not hide them.
It anoints.
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
Preah Khan Temple, Angkor, Cambodia — 2024
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)
The morning opens like a held breath over Preah Khan, mist unraveling across the moat until stone and water share the same hush. A guardian Deva—scarred by centuries yet unbowed—leans toward the unseen, his remaining arms still gently encircling the naga Vasuki, his silence deeper than the water below.
In that pale interval before birdsong, Lucas Varro stood motionless, feeling the statue’s weathered poise reflect the stillness within his own chest. The lens became less an instrument than a listening ear, attending to the syllables of light as they brushed lichen-flecked skin.
Captured on medium-format analogue black-and-white film with a long exposure that welcomed the drifting vapor, the negative journeyed home to the darkroom. There, classical chiaroscuro guided shadows into dimension, and careful hand-toning breathed warmth into silver so the final print might pulse with the same quiet awe that stirred beside the moat.
Printed as a museum-grade archival pigment work on sustainable Hahnemühle Bamboo paper and restricted to twenty-five numbered prints with two Artist’s Proofs, each sheet embodies a vow of presence and rarity.
Welcome this vigil of quiet stone.
Click here to follow the misted path into the Artist’s Journal.
