She Appeared in the Breath Before Gold
The air changed before the light did.
The sun, low and thick with memory, moved across the jungle canopy as though remembering its way. I had passed the western gate of Angkor Wat many times, but that evening, something opened. The sandstone ignited—not with flame, but with reverence. There was no announcement. Just a deepening. A stillness within stillness.
She was already standing there.
Not emerging. Not revealed. Present. Her aureole flared like a forgotten flame, her hand lifted in a gesture that felt neither fixed nor in motion—something between invocation and memory. She had not been carved. She had been kept. And in that moment, offered.
I moved with the slowness such presences require. The tripod legs pressed gently into the earth. I adjusted the camera as one bows. When I exposed the film, I did so not to capture, but to kneel.
I did not ask her to stay. I shaped the image later with long hours of silence and shadow, coaxing her from silver into gold, until she glowed again—not on the paper, but within it.
light rose from the stone—
her hand caught the last silence
before the sun knelt
Also in Library
The Silence of Scales
A staircase inhales, and silence thickens between stone scales. Each step remembers serpents once carved, pearl-light gathering in its breath. In this luminous flash gem, a traveller climbs toward hush and revelation, where silence itself becomes flame. A tale brief as an exhalation, yet lingering like pearl-light beneath moss.
The Crocodile and the Moon Eel: A Tide-Bargain
A crocodile waits in hush where river bends to moonlight. From the silt, a pearl-lit eel rises, whispering a bargain of scale and tide. What is given is never returned whole: hunger meets silence, storm keeps watch, and the river writes its law in breath.
Field Note: Blue Hour at Angkor
The blue hour settles over Angkor like a hush in stone. Naga coils dissolve into shadow, carvings soften into silence, and hunger without teeth endures. A sketch becomes listening. Each fracture is a hymn, each hollow a river. A field note on patience, memory, and the stillness that lingers.
$250
Angkor Wat Temple, Angkor, Cambodia — 2021
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
9 x 7.2 inches (22.9 x 18.3 cm)
There are moments when Angkor does not merely reflect light—it becomes it. Beneath the western gate of Angkor Wat, as the sun drew its final breath, a single apsara revealed herself in the stillness. Carved in fluid poise, she did not seem made, but remembered—framed in a halo of fire-shaped stone, aglow with the gold of vanishing day.
The silence was thick with prayer. Cicadas slowed. Even the breeze seemed to listen. In that hush, her hand traced a gesture of unspoken offering. I stood before her not as artist, but as witness.
Captured on large-format black-and-white film using natural light and long exposure, the image was shaped with classical chiaroscuro to draw out presence from shadow. Each print is hand-toned in gold by the artist, not to add, but to recall the warmth that once anointed her form.
This signed and numbered work is part of a strictly limited edition of 25 + 2 Artist’s Proofs. Printed on museum-grade Hahnemühle Bamboo paper, it is both relic and revelation—a tactile offering of light and silence.
She is not a photograph. She is the breath before devotion.
Click here to enter the Artist’s Journal and walk deeper into her flame.
