Free Shipping On all Orders over $400 · Zero Tariffs for Most Countries

0

Your Cart is Empty

The gate holds warmth, though the sun has gone. I have been here before, but never like this. There is a flame I cannot see, only feel—in the stone, in her lifted hand, in the way no vine dares cross her gaze.

She is not asking. She is not waiting. She is simply there, carrying something older than light.

I press the shutter as the fire fades. What remains is not loss, but offering.

the carved hand offers
what the sun could not withhold—
ember without end


Also in My Journal

The Worm of Salt and Silence: A Myth of Creation and Ruin
The Worm of Salt and Silence: A Myth of Creation and Ruin

13 min read

The Worm of Salt and Silence rises from the ocean's depths, devouring, transforming, and shaping the land. As a boy enters its jaws, the boundaries of hunger and creation collapse, giving birth to a new world. This myth of death and rebirth unfolds in tides of flame and silence.

Read More
The Gate Beneath the Temple
The Gate Beneath the Temple

12 min read

A gate listens where a temple breathes. Smoke clings like a mirror, vows soften like wax, and every prayer falls downward as bread to a mouth carved in stone. Hunger speaks in liturgy and withdraws in hush. You feel the crown’s weight without jewels. You hear it. You carry it.

Read More
The Wind That Carried Me to Zhenla – Introduction
A Scroll Carried by Wind

2 min read

Zhou Daguan came to Angkor to observe—but found a kingdom that defied explanation. This introductory scroll welcomes new readers into The Wind That Carried Me to Zhenla: a poetic resurrection of the 13th-century emissary’s journey, revoiced with reverence, wonder, and the hush of temple stone.

Read More