Where Silence Takes Form and Flight
Before the jungle wakes, the artist kneels. Eight minutes of silver and breath render an apsara whose gesture holds the sacred pause between worlds. This reflection invites quiet entry into form, presence, and the silence that remembers.
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.
Alabaster Dawn, Unspoken
Morning gathers softly over rain-dark stone. The artist waits—not for light, but for the breath between stillness and movement. A haiku blooms like mist within the field journal, where silence becomes memory in silver and tone.
