Rainlight Between Paw and Prayer
Rain rides every leaf. A silver-green hush hangs above the moat, catching shy reflections of the tiered sanctuary beyond. I note how the light glides over wet bark, how moss drinks its own colour. Nothing signals the moment; it simply unfolds.
From the tree-line, saffron moves. A monk appears—not dramatic, merely certain. The dog that loves him darts ahead, tail carving small ripples in the air. Their convergence is ordinary and also eternal; it binds the stair to breath, the temple to heartbeat. I remain still, allowing the lens to rest, allowing devotion to reveal itself without instruction. Somewhere inside the pyramid a thousand years of chant awaken.
The shutter opens like a held sigh. Long seconds pass, recording the seam where movement meets stillness. I think of the darkroom already, of coaxing depth from shadow, of brushing warmth along the greys until stone begins to pulse.
Rain settles,
and the temple tastes its own name.A monk lifts silence
step by step;
his dog carries it back down,
tail bright with confession.Whole centuries bend,
listening for small feet
and the soft rustle of prayer
unfolding inside shared breath.
Also in My Journal
A Scroll Carried by Wind
Zhou Daguan came to Angkor to observe—but found a kingdom that defied explanation. This introductory scroll welcomes new readers into The Wind That Carried Me to Zhenla: a poetic resurrection of the 13th-century emissary’s journey, revoiced with reverence, wonder, and the hush of temple stone.
The Goddess of the Golden Tower
There is a tower the moon remembers—where a king once climbed in silence, and a goddess wove humility into gold. Though the spire has faded, her presence lingers in the hush between breath and stone, waiting for the next soul who dares to kneel before the unseen.
Phimeanakas and the Goddess of Sovereignty
Within the Royal Enclosure of Angkor Thom stands Phimeanakas—the Celestial Palace. More than a monument, it is a myth made stone: where kings bowed to the goddess of the land, and sovereignty meant surrender. A contemplative meditation on sacred architecture, divine right, and the quiet power that still lives between the stones.
$280
Bakong Temple, Angkor, Cambodia — 2018
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 moat still murmured with last night’s rain when Bakong’s stone pyramid emerged into morning mist. Trees stood in quiet formation, their leaves damp with remembrance. The air was breathless, waiting.
Then—soft footsteps. A solitary monk stepped onto the path, saffron brushing shadow. His dog appeared at the stair’s base, bounding upward with familiar joy. At that instant, the ancient geometry of the temple seemed to inhale.
From across the moat, I opened the large-format lens. The exposure was long, silent—letting light and reverence gather in equal measure.
In the darkroom, chiaroscuro shaped the form until the stair held presence. Warm gold-toning followed—gently hand-applied to echo the robe, the dawn, the intimacy of this shared return.
Printed on museum-grade Hahnemühle Bamboo paper, in a strictly limited edition of 25 + 2 AP, each hand-toned print is signed on the recto.
Let this image enter your space as a quiet threshold between prayer and companionship.
Click here to walk further into the Artist’s Journal.
Previously titled ‘Monk and Friend, Bakong Temple, Angkor, Cambodia. 2018,’ this photograph has been renamed to better reflect its place in the series and its spiritual tone. The edition, provenance, and authenticity remain unchanged.
