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

0

Your Cart is Empty

A breeze moved through the canopy—soft, unhurried. The stone still held warmth, though the sun had already gone.

I stood before a bare wall in the courtyard of Angkor Wat’s second floor—unfinished, flat, waiting. From that silence, two figures had risen. Devatas nearly identical, their shoulders tilted slightly toward one another. Each held a lotus blossom. One reached across to rest her hand upon the other’s shoulder—a gesture so precise, so intimate, I could not tell if it had just occurred or had never ceased.

Their gaze was not outward, but inward. They did not watch. They remembered.

The exposure was long, but not longer than the silence. In the studio, I shaped the print slowly—my own ritual of return. Hand-toning it in gold was not an embellishment, but an act of listening. A way of giving light back to those who had given it away.


They were not made to glow.
They were made to keep.

they were not carved—
they arrived
in the silence the wall had kept

they did not shine
but remembered the sun
that loved them

one touch held both
offering and return
in the same breath

and what they gave
is still
being given


Also in Library

Before the Shutter Falls
Before the Shutter Falls

3 min read

Before the shutter falls, fear sharpens and doubt measures the cost of waiting. In the quiet hours before dawn, the act of not-yet-beginning becomes a discipline of attention. This essay reflects on patience, restraint, and the quiet mercy that arrives when outcome loosens its hold.

Read More
A red-and-black chalk sketch of an Angkor terrace at dawn: a broom leaning on a square column, a water bowl, a folded cloth, and a freshly swept stone path.
Those Who Keep the Way Open — On the Quiet Guardians of Angkor’s Thresholds

3 min read

Quiet gestures shape the way into Angkor — a swept stone, a refilled bowl, a hand steadying a guardian lion. This essay reflects on the unseen custodians whose daily care keeps the thresholds open, revealing how sacredness endures not through stone alone, but through those who tend its meaning.

Read More
A red and black chalk study of a Bayon face tower in soft morning light, shown in three-quarter profile with calm, lowered eyelids.
Multiplicity and Mercy — The Face Towers of Jayavarman VII

5 min read

A new vision of kingship rises at the Bayon: serene faces turned to every horizon, shaping a world where authority is expressed as care. Moving through the terraces, one enters a field of steady, compassionate presence — a landscape where stone, light, and time teach through quiet attention.

Read More