In the Stillness That Watches
The causeway glistened as though the night had just passed through it. Above, the clouds barely moved. There was no wind, not even the anticipation of wind—only an immense listening.
The naga balustrades curved ahead, dissolving into mist. Their rhythm wasn’t architectural—it was liturgical. Each carved coil echoed something I felt in the chest, not the eyes. And the towers—still veiled—waited beyond sound.
I paused there for some time. No need to arrange the world. It had already arranged me.
The exposure was long. I imagined it not as an act of photography, but as the breath between one world and the next.
The image emerged slowly, as it had in life. In the darkroom, the shadows told me where to begin. I shaped the light with restraint. Hand-toned each print as though the stones themselves were whispering through silver.
Not all doors are closed.
Some wait in stillness,
not to be opened
but crossed.Beneath a sky veiled in breath,
the stone recalls
every footfall,
every vow left
unsaid.The naga curls
into the unseen—
its silence more faithful
than sound.And I—
not entering,
not leaving—
stand
where light has not yet taken form.
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.
$250
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
8 x 8 inches (20.3 x 20.3 cm)
Before first light touches stone, before the world is named, the western causeway of Angkor Wat extends like a breath held in the body of the earth. No footsteps echo. The sky holds its silence in cloudlight.
The naga balustrades curve inward like gestures of remembrance. Their symmetry does not lead to a structure, but to presence. The temple’s towers wait on the horizon, not to be seen—but to be met. Here, in the hush before form, something sacred begins.
Lucas Varro entered this space before dawn, passing through the western gopura in darkness. He stood without framing or thought, listening. The camera’s bellows opened like a breath. The long exposure received not an image, but a moment of surrender.
Captured on large format black-and-white film, the photograph was shaped using classical chiaroscuro techniques and hand-toned by the artist. The final print is an archival pigment print on Hahnemühle Bamboo paper, offered in a strictly limited edition of 25 + 2 Artist’s Proofs.
Each one a threshold, waiting to be crossed in silence.
Click here to enter the Artist’s Journal and walk deeper into the hush.
Previously titled ‘Causeway, Angkor Wat Temple, Cambodia. 2020,’ this photograph has been renamed to better reflect its place in the series and its spiritual tone. The edition, provenance, and authenticity remain unchanged.
