Held in the Light of What Was Once Known
“When light became memory,
stone remembered how to touch.”
In the quiet corridors of Angkor Wat’s Cruciform Galleries, Lucas Varro encountered something rare: not just divine form, but divine familiarity. Two apsaras—leaning together, carved into the temple’s western wall—held a tenderness not often seen in the sacred architecture of Angkor. Shoulder met shoulder, hip touched hip. One smiled, her teeth visible. It is one of only a handful of such smiles across the vast stone faces of the temple.
Varro did not begin with exposure. He began with breath. Sketching, returning, waiting for the light that would remember them as he had. It came in the final hush of day. The sun, filtered through jungle canopy, struck the walls with molten reverence. The moment was not captured. It was received.
The final photograph was composed on large-format black-and-white film. Later, shaped through chiaroscuro, it was hand-toned in gold—mirroring the warmth that once flowed between their forms. The process was slow, contemplative, devotional. Each print becomes an extension of that hush: the silence between lifetimes, the breath that preceded memory.
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The Caress Between Lifetimes is an archival pigment print on museum-grade Hahnemühle Bamboo paper, available in a strictly limited edition of 25 + 2 Artist’s Proofs. It is a meditation in form—a sculpted memory that leans close and waits.
This is not a portrait. It is a presence.
Also in Library
From Mountain to Monastery
Angkor Wat survived by learning to change its posture. Built as a summit for gods and kings, it became a place of dwelling for monks and pilgrims. As belief shifted from ascent to practice, stone yielded to routine—and the mountain learned how to remain inhabited.
Why Theravada Could Outlast Stone
Theravada endured by refusing monumentality. It shifted belief from stone to practice, from kings to villages, from permanence to repetition. What it preserved was not form but rhythm—robes, bowls, chants, and lives lived close together—allowing faith to travel when capitals fell and temples emptied.
The End of Sanskrit at Angkor
The final Sanskrit inscription at Angkor does not announce an ending. It simply speaks once more, with elegance and certainty, into a world that had begun to listen differently. Its silence afterward marks not collapse, but a quiet transfer of meaning—from stone and proclamation to practice, breath, and impermanence.
$280
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
12.75 x 5.1 inches (32.4 x 13 cm)
The sun was descending when he found them—two apsaras leaning toward each other in the Cruciform Galleries of Angkor Wat, aglow with the warmth of a dying day. Their embrace was sculptural, eternal. One smiled.
The air carried chants from deeper in the temple. Around them: movement. But here, between these figures, was stillness. Their closeness held a sensuality not of the body, but of breath—a bond shaped in silence, lit from within.
Lucas Varro returned again and again, sketching, watching, waiting. The image was captured on large-format black-and-white film, using long exposure and classical chiaroscuro techniques. Later, in quiet devotion, he hand-toned the print in gold to mirror the light he could not forget.
This signed and numbered edition of 25 + 2 Artist’s Proofs is printed on museum-grade Hahnemühle Bamboo paper. Each print is a threshold of presence, crafted to embody sacred intimacy and reincarnational memory.
A caress that lingers longer than time.
Click here to enter the Artist’s Journal and step through the silence between shadow and gold.
