The Silence That Sees
I placed my hand on the stone—not to steady myself, but to listen. It was cool, textured by centuries of weather and worship. Apsaras carved across the sanctuary walls tilted in various gestures, but one stilled the morning around her.
She didn’t face me. Her gaze rested just beyond, where memory slips into myth. Her hand rose with the gentleness of a blessing that did not require belief. I felt no need to be seen. Only received.
Light moved quietly across her collarbone. Not illumination—recognition. I crouched low to watch it touch the edge of her braid.
When I eventually exposed the film, I knew I would spend hours drawing out what the stone already understood: shadow is not absence, but a form of grace.
The stone did not speak
but opened a space for listening—
and something entered.She does not move.
She does not need to.Each braid is a prayer
coiled in time.The hand she raises
is not a gesture
but a threshold.Stand before her
and forget what you thought
was yours to hold.
Also in Library
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.
The Asura Within
At the gates of Angkor Thom, gods and demons share a single serpent.
Across this bridge of struggle the pilgrim learns that the asura is not evil but unfinished — the restless force within each of us still grasping for light.
To cross the naga is to balance passion with compassion, struggle with stillness, shadow with dawn.
Garuda and the Serpent · Flight and Surrender
Between Garuda’s wings and the Nāga’s coils, Angkor breathes its oldest truth: flight and surrender are one motion. In the carvings where sky and water entwine, the pilgrim learns that freedom depends upon gravity, and that stillness itself is a kind of flight.
$260
Banteay Srei Temple, Angkor, Cambodia — 2022
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
10 x 6.7 inches (25.4 x 17 cm)
The first light touches carved sandstone like breath on water. At Banteay Srei, a solitary apsara steps forward from the temple wall, hips bowed, expression inward, surrounded by tendrils of lotus, scroll, and sky.
The courtyard is silent, rain-washed. A sweetness lingers in the air—moss, frangipani, and the faint trace of fire. She appears not as ornament, but as invocation: a gesture caught between time and eternity.
The moment stilled me. I stood with the camera lowered, waiting. When I finally exposed the film, it was not just light that entered—it was the presence of something older, something listening.
Photographed on medium-format black-and-white film, shaped with classical chiaroscuro techniques, and hand-toned with pigment and prayer, each print preserves this reverent hush. The edition is strictly limited to twenty-five, with two Artist’s Proofs. Each print is made on museum-grade Hahnemühle Bamboo paper and signed on the border recto.
Own this quiet gesture of divine memory.
Click here to follow the echo deeper into the Artist’s Journal.
Previously titled ‘Apsara II, Banteay Srei Temple, Angkor, Cambodia. 2022,’ this photograph has been renamed to better reflect its place in the series and its spiritual tone. The edition, provenance, and authenticity remain unchanged.
