Unstruck Sound Beneath the Naga
To listen without expectation—that is how stone uncloses.
Barefoot on flagstones still cool with night, I enter the cruciform heart of Angkor Wat. Incense has long ascended, yet a fragrant hush remains, draped across pillars like a prayer stalled in its first syllable. In that hush rests a single figure: the Buddha in dhyāna, nested beneath Muchilinda’s coiled hood.
His gaze bends inward, palms shaping a circle wide enough to cradle silence itself. The sandstone, polished by centuries of hands and breath, offers presence rather than weight. So I do not lift the camera. I breathe, I match the stillness.
At last a filament of dawn brushes the serpent’s brow. My shutter falls—not to seize, but to receive—medium-format film opening like a small lung, holding the unstruck sound of interior dawn.
Unstruck dawn resounds—
stone coils guard the early hush,
stillness shelters light.
More from the Library
Houses of Wood, Light, and Smoke
Some of Angkor’s most intimate ruins do not rise above the ground at all. They are postholes, low mounds, hearths and ponds: durable traces of a domestic city built largely from things that decay. To restore that city is to see Angkor not only as stone, but as wood, smoke, water, repair, and people living within calling distance.
What Stone Brings Forth
I had mistaken a gift for something being expelled.
Beneath the nāga's mouth, a stone garland descended bead by bead. Nearby, a makara opened its jaws and another form emerged. Looking closer, the whole temple began to change: serpent became ornament, ornament became architecture, architecture became foliage.
The forest did not introduce this language.
It answered it.
The Eighth Daughter
Seven daughters have already been taken by Yamata-no-Orochi when Susanoo reaches the River Hi. Only Kushinada-hime remains. The Eighth Daughter retells the Kojiki episode through a family’s waiting, a girl transformed into a comb, and the patient preparation for the serpent’s return.
$895
"The unstruck sound"
Angkor Wat Temple, Cambodia — 2017
Limited Edition Archival Pigment Print
Edition
Strictly limited to 7 prints + 2 Artist’s Proofs
Edition Number
This listing is for the first numbered print from the Large Collector Edition: 1/7
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
28 x 28 inches (71.1 x 71.1 cm)
Dawn enters the cruciform gallery like a withheld breath—soft, soundless, reverent. In that shadowed hush, a naga coils skyward to shelter the meditating Buddha, their forms echoing a pact between storm and silence.
The air still tastes of long-faded incense. Light moves as remembrance, touching stone older than vision. Beneath the serpent’s hood, the Buddha’s eyes remain half-closed—not in sleep, but in radiant listening.
I exposed a single frame on medium-format black-and-white film, trusting the patience of long exposure to honour what the eye alone cannot keep. In the darkroom, chiaroscuro deepened the tonal hush; hand-toning later revealed the muted radiance lodged within shadow.
Each print rests on museum-grade Hahnemühle Bamboo paper, hand-toned, signed, and numbered within a strictly limited edition of 25 with 2 Artist’s Proofs.
Welcome this listening stillness as a threshold within your own walls.
Click here to enter the Artist’s Journal, where the unstruck sound quietly unfolds.
Previously titled ‘Buddha I, Angkor Wat Temple, Cambodia. 2017,’ this photograph has been renamed to better reflect its place in the series and its spiritual tone. The edition, provenance, and authenticity remain unchanged.