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

0

Your Cart is Empty

The gesture that made the flame visible never moved.

At the western gate of Angkor Wat, she waits—not in stone, but in stillness shaped by fire. Apsara, crowned and radiant, her foot lifted mid-gesture, her hand brushing an unseen rhythm. She stands within an aureole of flame-shaped leaves, carved not to flicker, but to hold. She is not ornament. She is offering.

The sandstone glowed in the last light of day. Not with colour, but with consecration. Lucas Varro approached this moment with the same stillness he brings to every frame. Using large-format black-and-white film, he stood in silent alignment as the shutter opened—not to capture—but to allow the light to speak.

Later, in the hush of his studio, the image was shaped using classical chiaroscuro techniques to coax shadow from form, breath from line. Finally, each print was hand-toned in gold to honour what was seen—not the light itself, but the way it returned to her.

This photograph is not a document. It is a devotion. It is the moment before the gods stir.


There are gestures that shape fire.
This is one of them.

Crafted on large-format analogue film in the descending light of sunset, this hand-toned archival pigment print is part of a strictly limited edition of 25 + 2 Artist’s Proofs. Printed on museum-grade Hahnemühle Bamboo paper, each piece is signed and shaped with sacred attention.

This is not an image to be looked at, but lived with. A presence. A remembrance. A fire that never moved.


Also in Library

Stone That Remembers the Sky
Stone That Remembers the Sky

1 min read

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.

Read More
Rice-Ghost and the Seven Drums
Rice-Ghost and the Seven Drums

3 min read

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.

Read More
Sepia-toned banner illustration of a jungle-choked ancient stone doorway, its entrance wrapped by a massive naga-like serpent and tangled roots, leading into deep shadow and mist.
Naga Vow

2 min read

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.

Read More