The Moment Light Knelt
The air held a soft weight—amber with dust and jungle warmth. I entered the corridor near day’s end, when the world forgets itself in light. The carvings, still and timeworn, gathered gold as if from within. It wasn’t the sun alone. It was something returning.
The scene was modest: two kneeling figures, their palms lifted in reverence, and a royal pair poised to receive. Yet the silence that surrounded them was immense. It felt as if the wall itself had drawn a breath and paused.
I did the same.
Everything in me quieted. I lowered the camera. Not to take, but to wait. And when the light touched one crown, then another, I exposed a single frame of film. The shutter whispered. The moment stayed.
Later, in the solitude of my studio, I shaped the image in stillness. Chiaroscuro revealed what breath had seen. Then came the hand-toning—a slow return of warmth, not applied, but remembered. As if gold had always been waiting beneath the surface, just hidden from the eye.
It is not always the grandeur of myth that arrests us. Sometimes, it is a small gesture—palms lifted in welcome, a gaze slightly bowed—that reveals the eternal in passing light.
Stone glows in silence—
a kneeling hand gathers light,
sunset bows to breath.
Also in Library
From Mountain to Monastery
Angkor Wat survived by learning to change its posture. Built as a summit for gods and kings, it became a place of dwelling for monks and pilgrims. As belief shifted from ascent to practice, stone yielded to routine—and the mountain learned how to remain inhabited.
Why Theravada Could Outlast Stone
Theravada endured by refusing monumentality. It shifted belief from stone to practice, from kings to villages, from permanence to repetition. What it preserved was not form but rhythm—robes, bowls, chants, and lives lived close together—allowing faith to travel when capitals fell and temples emptied.
The End of Sanskrit at Angkor
The final Sanskrit inscription at Angkor does not announce an ending. It simply speaks once more, with elegance and certainty, into a world that had begun to listen differently. Its silence afterward marks not collapse, but a quiet transfer of meaning—from stone and proclamation to practice, breath, and impermanence.
$250
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
8 x 8 inches (20.3 x 20.3 cm)
The corridor held its silence as the sun began to fall. In that narrow hush, light slipped through the jungle and touched the wall like breath. The carving—centuries old—seemed to stir, not with movement, but with inward glow.
A royal pair stood at the center, flanked by kneeling figures whose hands, lifted in reverence, caught the last warmth of day. This was not a scene of myth, but of return—light meeting stone in recognition.
I waited. When the moment gathered itself, I exposed one frame of medium-format black-and-white film. It felt less like taking than receiving.
In the studio, the photograph unfolded slowly. Through classical chiaroscuro and meticulous hand-toning, the image regained its warmth, its breath. Printed on museum-grade Hahnemühle Bamboo paper, and strictly limited to 25 prints with 2 Artist’s Proofs, each work is shaped as a gesture of stillness and care.
May this print serve as a silent welcome—
a resting place for light in your keeping.
Click here to enter the Artist’s Journal and follow the gold into dusk.
