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
The Devata at First Light
At first light in Banteay Kdei, a devata draws the eye into stillness. Through sanguine chalk, black shadow, and repeated returns to the page, sketch and prose slowly deepen into a single act of devotion—until the words, too, learn how to remain.
The Spark and the Weight of Being Human
At some point in our past, a human asked the first question—and self-awareness was born. Yet the same consciousness that gave us power also confronts us with our limits. This essay explores the paradox of being human: the spark of understanding and the weight of knowing.
The Pact of the Uncounted Grain
A village does not starve only when rice runs out. It begins to thin when everything is counted, explained, and held too tightly. The Pact of the Uncounted Grain remembers an older law: that once each season, abundance must pass through human hands without measure, or the world begins, quietly, to lose its meaning.
$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.
