Still Water, Listening Light
Rain-sweet air clings to the stone causeway; every leaf gleams with last night’s bloom. At the pond, mirrored darkness cups the sky’s first tremor. I lean close, sensing how stillness thickens once observation grows reverent. Long exposure is less decision than devotion: a willingness to let time speak its full sentence.
In studio solitude, chiaroscuro becomes continuation rather than correction. Shadows open like doors to deeper rooms; highlights breathe out of the paper’s warm bamboo grain. What was received at the pond is offered forward—light held in trust, then released.
Light steps barefoot
onto the broad back of water,
gathering centuries of hush
in a single cupped palm.Clouds drift like unvoiced psalms;
five towers ascend and descend
within the same held breath.Somewhere between wing-beat and prayer
the horizon loosens its name—
time slipping, shutter-slow,
into an older word for awe.Whatever remains of us here
is only stillness listening
after seeing—
a filament of reflection
trembling,
unbroken.
Also in Library
The Devata at First Light
At first light in Banteay Kdei, a devata draws the eye into stillness. Through sanguine chalk, black shadow, and repeated returns to the page, sketch and prose slowly deepen into a single act of devotion—until the words, too, learn how to remain.
The Spark and the Weight of Being Human
At some point in our past, a human asked the first question—and self-awareness was born. Yet the same consciousness that gave us power also confronts us with our limits. This essay explores the paradox of being human: the spark of understanding and the weight of knowing.
The Pact of the Uncounted Grain
A village does not starve only when rice runs out. It begins to thin when everything is counted, explained, and held too tightly. The Pact of the Uncounted Grain remembers an older law: that once each season, abundance must pass through human hands without measure, or the world begins, quietly, to lose its meaning.
$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)
Dawn enters on a breath so soft it barely stirs the palms. Over the lotus pond, the five towers of Angkor Wat rise not in stone, but in reflection—sky doubling back into water, memory leaning toward form.
The hush is complete. Wind holds its voice. Light kneels. In this early hour, Lucas Varro stood unseen, lens poised at the water’s edge. Reverence guided the exposure—a slow inhalation of the moment as the towers drifted into mirrored stillness.
Captured on 8×10 black-and-white film, the image was later shaped in the darkroom through classical chiaroscuro and hand-toned with care. Shadow and light were coaxed gently forward, honoring the atmosphere of that silent hour.
Each impression is a museum-grade archival pigment print on sustainable Hahnemühle Bamboo, limited to 25 prints with 2 Artist’s Proofs, signed and numbered on the border recto.
Let this reflection become the still water of your interior shrine.
To step softly into the hush of mirrored dawn, click here and enter the Artist’s Journal.
Previously titled ‘Dawn Reflection, 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.
