A Prayer Cradled in Brick
In a temple open to sky and shadow, the goddess emerges not from craft, but from light itself. A brief meditation and haiku reveal how Shakti continues to rise through silence.
The Roofless Shrine That Holds the Sun
A tower open to the sky, a goddess glowing from within. This poetic field note and verse trace the lingering hush of light as it gathers, lingers, and transforms into breath.
Where Hush Becomes Form
A breath held between gesture and stillness. She waits—not for arrival, but recognition. This quiet meditation listens for the moment form becomes presence.
The Silence That Sees
The print begins where sound ends. Through damp stone and soft breath, the artist steps across a threshold of light and form—until gesture becomes invitation.
Petal of Stone,
Breath of Rain
Clouds linger. The apsara waits. One breath and a slow shutter gather the hush of Banteay Srei’s carved dancer. This quiet haibun captures the instant where memory becomes form, and stone nearly takes flight.
Listening for the Drum Between Raindrops
A droplet slips down carved stone and is gone. Yet the air holds its rhythm, and the apsara listens. This field note opens into poem—where rain, gesture, and memory carry the breath of a vanished drum.
Prayer Not Yet Spoken
Stone inhales and the photographer waits. One exposure gathers the hush before language—the unfinished prayer held beneath a serpent’s coils. The resulting image listens more than it speaks, asking the viewer to enter the space where breath becomes intention …
The Hush Before Vibration
A strand of dawn loosens the final darkness. Beneath a serpent’s hood the Buddha absorbs the first radiance, and an image rises from pure listening. Stone, light, and analogue film conspire in a hush that quivers before vibration, inviting the reader to linger on the edge of sound …
The Moment Before Form
A mist-draped causeway, wet with night. A breath held before the shutter falls. A memory begins to rise—not of sight, but of presence…
In the Stillness That Watches
The temple doesn’t rise—it watches. A long breath opens into dusk-grey sky. In the hush before exposure, before birds, before names, something sacred begins to remember itself…
What the Rain Left Behind
Before names, before intent—there was only this: the shape of breath inside stone. This brief meditation and haiku offer a moment of grace that neither arrives nor leaves.
When Light Touched Her Wrist
Stone glistens with mist. An apsara waits where shadow lifts. What begins as quiet perception flows into a poem shaped by time, breath, and the mercy of endurance.
Where Silence Touches the Face of Stone
Dawn slides through the open roof and touches carved grace. In one breathlike passage, the artist holds a moment of listening—where stillness meets return…
A Lotus Held in the Breath of Stone
A slow breath of light finds her where columns hush. Between poem and prose, the artist reflects on devotion, stillness, and the divine presence that endures in stone…
Stillness Offered
Stillness deepens as corridor becomes breath. This brief haibun offers a soft meditation drawn from within the silence of Ta Prohm, where moss, memory, and shadow lean inward. The closing haiku leaves the moment open—like the image itself.
The Listening Stone
Light moves like memory across the eastern corridor of Ta Prohm. A brief field note unfolds into a free verse poem that echoes the stillness of the print—inviting the reader to vanish gently into stone, shadow, and breath.
Beneath the Bite, Silence
Held in the hush before light, devotion clenches with quiet teeth. One bite, one breath, and something ancient stirs—not violence, but the grace that follows it…
Where Teeth Become Flame
In the hush before light, stone breathes and the bite becomes prayer. This is not a wound but a vow—one etched into shadow, shaped in silence, and carried like ember…
Lotus Mirror Breath
A brief haibun, light as pond mist, follows the instant Angkor’s towers bloom inside their own echo. Reflection, film, and breath converge—then slip away—leaving only the hush that dawn entrusts to those who wait…
Still Water, Listening Light
Still water receives the barefoot arrival of light, and time unspools in one long breath. Moving from dawn-side observation into hand-toned reverie, this piece listens for the moment when reflection becomes the truest face of stone—and invites you to listen, too…
Breath Over Laterite
Mist swallows stone; breath passes through the artist and into the waiting film. A haibun traces this vanishing—a single paragraph, a single haiku—where silence ascends the ancient stair and does not return…
Listening to Rain-Warmed Stone
Warm stone greets rain; a lion keeps vigil. In the charged quiet, a poem rises—clouded towers, thunder’s single syllable, a stair that opens instead of climbs. Presence lingers where gods once placed a weightless foot…
The Breath Between Worlds
Rain-slick roots, stone softened by silence, and one breath before entering. This quiet haibun leads into the space between thresholds, where the door does not open, but inhales…
Before the Shutter, a Breath
Rain clings to fig bark, the air folds inward, and one breath opens the shutter. This quiet field note and poem descend together into the hush where root and darkness become one pulse...
The Edge Before Rain
A haibun for the moment before sound: carved breath and rising palm held in sacred alignment. The image does not speak. It receives. A hush, a haiku, and the sky holding its tongue…
Between Two Sentinels
The air leans inward. The camera waits. Beneath stone and sky, the poem arrives like thunder withheld. Not an act of taking—but a listening between watchers who never once blink…
Breath Beneath the Fig
A single paragraph and haiku trace the breath of fig and lion before light. What is held here cannot be said—only felt, as silence made visible…
The Listening Tension Between Silence and Form
Mist and breath, root and roar—this quiet meditation leads gently into a poem shaped by stillness and stone. An unseen tension, held like an unopened syllable…
Between Breath and Stone
Light unveils the temple’s two faces—one recalling, one dissolving. The artist stands between them, not to capture, but to receive. A breath held in stone becomes the haiku we almost forgot to remember…
Listening Between Stone and Dawn
The face towers of Bayon lean toward each other in morning hush. One shadowed, one alight. The artist listens—and in that listening, a poem rises, shaped by silence and the slow rhythm of breath becoming image…
A Silence That Remains
Mist gathers on the lips of a ruined face tower. In this compact meditation, stone, breath, and memory converge—leaving the reader in quiet dialogue with what endures…
The Face the Rain Did Not Erase
A moss-covered face lifts toward clouded sky. This short meditation traces a moment of perception into poetic memory, where rain becomes ritual and stone becomes breath…
Gold and Ash in Temple Silence
As day exhales its final warmth, a solitary shield glimmers in Angkor Wat’s corridor. Varro’s haibun receives this fading light, rendering myth into meditative presence. Gold-toned shadows invite the reader to dwell where memory lingers and the last beam of sun becomes a vow of stillness.
A Silence Older Than Time
Golden hour slips side-long into Angkor Wat, and the Battle of Kurukshetra shimmers instead of shouts. Varro’s lens receives, rather than seizes, a scene where stone, light, and hush entwine. What emerges is not history, but a resonant stillness that echoes beneath every story we think we know.
Stillness Before Time Resumes
Before the sky shifts, the artist enters Angkor’s western gopura in silence. Through incense, shadow, and unspoken breath, Ta Reach reveals not movement, but presence. One paragraph, one haiku—this haibun offers a breath-length glimpse into stillness before time resumes its weight…
The Weight of a Silent Gaze
Before the shutter falls, the artist listens to stone and silence until presence becomes breath. This luminous pairing of field note and poem reveals how stillness presses inward and a god remembers through sequined dusk and vow-bound light…
Where Stone Still Breathes - A Meditation on The Bayon
In the hushed light of dawn, two ancient face towers meet in silent communion. This reflection explores the sacred stillness of Bayon Temple — where shadow, stone, and time converge in a quiet breath.
Sanctum - a Meditation on Srah Srang
At Srah Srang, Angkor, even silence holds presence. Stone lions witness, nagas remember, and the sacred welcomes you as though you’ve always belonged. A meditation on place, stillness, and the temple within.
