The Light That Named Her
The light did not fall upon her.
It turned toward her, as if remembering a vow.
The cicadas had begun their long ascent into silence. I had climbed slowly to the upper sanctuary, where even sound softens and shadow holds its breath. The heat had lifted, but the walls still held the warmth of day, like an offering never taken.
She waited—high in the eastern wall, alone, still, untouched by time. Not waiting to be seen, but waiting to be remembered. Her gaze did not seek mine. It was turned inward, beyond names, beyond histories. And yet, in that moment, the temple knew her.
The sun was setting behind the western towers, and the fire it cast returned from stone to stone, until it reached her face—not directly, but with the hush of reverence. She did not glow. She burned gently, from within. A blaze not of light, but of recognition.
I stood in silence. Not preparing, not adjusting. Only witnessing. The camera had been set before the moment arrived. All that remained was breath.
She was not carved for memory.
She was carved to hold stillness.
And the light, in naming her, fulfilled its purpose.
evening fire rests
on a name the stone forgot
until the light spoke
Also in Library
The Weight of Light
In the hush before dawn, light gathers until waiting becomes prayer.
Long exposure teaches surrender — to breathe with time, to let the unseen complete the image.
What remains on film is not possession, but trust made visible.
The Silence Between Temples
Between one breath and the next, the world holds its pulse in silence.
Here, between temples, devotion hums without voice—light becoming memory, memory becoming air.
Step softly into the space where sound has already bowed,
and feel the sacred linger in what remains unspoken.
Hands of the Sculptor — The Craft as Meditation
In the hush of the galleries, the sculptor listens rather than strikes.
Each breath, each measured blow, opens silence a little further.
Unfinished reliefs reveal the moment when mastery becomes meditation—
when patience itself is carved into being,
and the dust that falls at a mason’s feet becomes the residue of prayer.
$270
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
11.75 x 5.6 inches (29.8 x 14.2 cm)
She stands in silence, not as a relic of devotion, but as its source—a solitary goddess set within the holiest sanctuary of Angkor Wat, receiving the last golden breath of day.
Carved high on the eastern wall—across from the setting sun—she does not perform. She does not turn. She remains. The shadows gather around her, but do not claim her. Her presence is more than stone. It is invocation.
The artist arrived in that hour of hush, when the air stilled and light bent inward, reflecting from the sandstone walls of the sanctuary itself. Standing before her, he did not seek a photograph. He awaited a blessing. The exposure was long. The silence, longer. The moment, eternal.
Captured on large-format black-and-white film, shaped with classical chiaroscuro, and later hand-toned in gold, the image echoes the light that once crowned her—not to mimic, but to honour.
Each signed print is hand-toned on museum-grade Hahnemühle Bamboo paper in a strictly limited edition of 25 + 2 Artist’s Proofs. It is offered as presence, not object.
Let her gaze become the stillness in your space.
Click here to enter the Artist’s Journal and walk deeper into the sanctum.
