The Library gathers the written works of Lucas Varro — journals of the temples, mythic retellings, contemplative essays, poems, and volumes shaped by shadow, silence, and wonder. Here, words stand beside images as offerings: field notes from Angkor, meditations on sacred stone, old stories rekindled, and reflections carried beyond the visible world.
Within these shelves you will find many rooms: Angkor journals, myth and legend, apsara meditations, contemplative essays, poems, children’s mythic wonder, literary retellings, and quieter devotions of the page. Wander chronologically, enter by theme, or pass through one of the dedicated publication houses now gathered within the wider Library.
For those who wish to follow these paths further, several of these writings continue on Substack and in dedicated archive blogs: The Lantern Chronicles , where myth, legend, contemplative essays, poetry, and other imaginative works are carried onward; The House of Cadmus , where Greek myth and tragedy are reopened through inheritance, violence, fate, and recurrence; The Mytharium , where myth, Tolkien, fairy stories, and old literature are read and retold with seriousness; The Alexander Series , where A. M. Sharp retells Greek myths for children who want to be trusted by stories; and The Hospitable Dark , where A. M. Sharp offers literary myth retellings shaped by darkness, shelter, endurance, and return.
A Corridor that Breathes
This curatorial meditation invites the reader into the spiritual depth of Shadow and Stone—a hand-toned fine art photograph where presence and absence shape one another in silence. Exhibition insight and collector’s reverence converge in a lyrical offering of stillness.
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.
Where Light Remembers
Morning holds its breath in Ta Prohm’s eastern gallery. The artist stands motionless, receiving the first silver hush of light. A haiku rises like incense within the prose, inviting you into the corridor where stone, shadow, and memory listen in perfect, patient silence.