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

0

Your Cart is Empty

To lift one foot in light is to begin a prayer.

Ta Prohm reveals its secrets softly. Carvings half-veiled by vines. Echoes beneath the canopy. It was near dusk when Lucas Varro noticed a small medallion embedded in the sandstone—so subtle it might have gone unseen.

Within it, a deer raised one hoof inside a circle of carved foliage. The gesture was precise, poised—not frozen, but eternally unfolding. For a few golden minutes, the jungle light touched the stone as if in communion. The image does not depict movement, but remembers it.

That remembrance forms the heart of When the Deer Danced the Sun Down.

Captured on medium format black-and-white film in 2021, the photograph was shaped using classical chiaroscuro to invite emotional depth and visual stillness. The final print is hand-toned in gold—honouring the molten hush of dusk that had illuminated the deer not with spectacle, but with grace.

Printed on museum-grade Hahnemühle Bamboo paper, the work is available in a signed and numbered edition of 25 + 2 Artist’s Proofs. Each piece is not merely a document of sacred ruin, but a devotional artefact—where light becomes a gesture, and stillness becomes breath.

To those who receive it, the image offers more than an aesthetic encounter. It offers a quiet threshold—into time remembered, light received, and prayer in the form of a single raised hoof.


Also in Library

The Silence of Scales
The Silence of Scales

1 min read

A staircase inhales, and silence thickens between stone scales. Each step remembers serpents once carved, pearl-light gathering in its breath. In this luminous flash gem, a traveller climbs toward hush and revelation, where silence itself becomes flame. A tale brief as an exhalation, yet lingering like pearl-light beneath moss.

Read More
The Crocodile and the Moon Eel: A Tide-Bargain
The Crocodile and the Moon Eel: A Tide-Bargain

7 min read

A crocodile waits in hush where river bends to moonlight. From the silt, a pearl-lit eel rises, whispering a bargain of scale and tide. What is given is never returned whole: hunger meets silence, storm keeps watch, and the river writes its law in breath.

Read More
Field Note: Blue Hour at Angkor
Field Note: Blue Hour at Angkor

2 min read

The blue hour settles over Angkor like a hush in stone. Naga coils dissolve into shadow, carvings soften into silence, and hunger without teeth endures. A sketch becomes listening. Each fracture is a hymn, each hollow a river. A field note on patience, memory, and the stillness that lingers.

Read More