In the Gold Between Them
The sandstone corridor held its hush. Late light fell across the carvings in broad, deliberate strokes. And there they stood—two apsaras emerging from the wall not as ornament, but as presence.
They leaned into one another as if to whisper. Their closeness was not performative. It was lived. A shoulder brushing a shoulder. A curve echoing a curve. The kind of intimacy shaped not by gesture, but by time.
One of them smiled.
The moment slowed. I watched how the gold light pooled in the quiet between their bodies. There was a fullness to the space—like breath between words, or the pause before a vow is spoken.
Later, in the studio, I would shape that gold into chiaroscuro. I would let the light re-enter them gently. But in that moment, there was only this:
—
They do not turn,
but something within them
leans
toward
gold.
One smile
rises
through centuries
of stillness—
a warmth never carved,
but found.
Their hips touch like wind
against stone,
and the light between them
remembers
what silence
once held.
Also in Library
Hands of the Sculptor — The Craft as Meditation
In the hush of the galleries, the sculptor listens rather than strikes.
Each breath, each measured blow, opens silence a little further.
Unfinished reliefs reveal the moment when mastery becomes meditation—
when patience itself is carved into being,
and the dust that falls at a mason’s feet becomes the residue of prayer.
The Asura Within
At the gates of Angkor Thom, gods and demons share a single serpent.
Across this bridge of struggle the pilgrim learns that the asura is not evil but unfinished — the restless force within each of us still grasping for light.
To cross the naga is to balance passion with compassion, struggle with stillness, shadow with dawn.
Garuda and the Serpent · Flight and Surrender
Between Garuda’s wings and the Nāga’s coils, Angkor breathes its oldest truth: flight and surrender are one motion. In the carvings where sky and water entwine, the pilgrim learns that freedom depends upon gravity, and that stillness itself is a kind of flight.
$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.
