Complimentary worldwide shipping on orders over $400 · No import tariffs for most countries

0

Your Cart is Empty

The vine moved first—barely.  Its green curl trembled against the cheek of the ruined guardian.  Not wind, not gesture, but something more ancient.  The kind of movement that belongs to silence, to roots, to breath drawn below speech.

I lowered my voice within.  Even the click of the tripod felt like intrusion.  Across the tower’s fractured geometry, dawn spilled unevenly, filling cracks like water searching for its own depth.  The face turned slightly away—not from me, but from the need to be seen.
In that moment, the rain began again.

Captured on medium-format black-and-white film, the exposure lasted just long enough to let the mist enter the frame—not as subject, but as presence.

The rain has forgotten
its own falling.
Stone remembers for it—
each drop a slow syllable
in a prayer older than language.

A face, half-broken, half-becoming,
lifts into stormlight
like a mountain listening.
I stand below,
heartbeat loosened
into the hush between breaths.

What guards such silence?
Only the gaze
that has already seen us depart,
and still keeps watch
for the quiet we might leave behind.


Also in Library

A red-and-black chalk sketch of an Angkor terrace at dawn: a broom leaning on a square column, a water bowl, a folded cloth, and a freshly swept stone path.
Those Who Keep the Way Open — On the Quiet Guardians of Angkor’s Thresholds

3 min read

Quiet gestures shape the way into Angkor — a swept stone, a refilled bowl, a hand steadying a guardian lion. This essay reflects on the unseen custodians whose daily care keeps the thresholds open, revealing how sacredness endures not through stone alone, but through those who tend its meaning.

Read More
A red and black chalk study of a Bayon face tower in soft morning light, shown in three-quarter profile with calm, lowered eyelids.
Multiplicity and Mercy — The Face Towers of Jayavarman VII

5 min read

A new vision of kingship rises at the Bayon: serene faces turned to every horizon, shaping a world where authority is expressed as care. Moving through the terraces, one enters a field of steady, compassionate presence — a landscape where stone, light, and time teach through quiet attention.

Read More
Red and black chalk study of a Bayon face dissolving into shadow and space, evoking quiet multiplicity and inward stillness.
Stone That Dreams

4 min read

Bayon wakes like a mind emerging from shadow. Its many faces shift with light and breath, teaching that perception—and the self—is never singular. In walking this forest of towers, the pilgrim discovers a quiet multiplicity within, held together by a calm that feels both ancient and newly understood.

Read More