Temple is really about finding the divine in the mundane, as the protagonist claims to have found God in a man’s ear. I enjoy the way Lee crops the pages, creating the affectation that you’re viewing detail work of larger masterpieces. It’s a really unique way of framing the shots that’s immediately noticeable. The lettering is a little loose at times, a printed style that morphs into cursive occasionally, which is ok as presented, but if printed any smaller it would become hard to make out. Lee mostly eschews traditional panel borders and allows the imagery to fill the pages from corner to corner. It’s sort of the opposite of the free-floating text you see surrounded by white expanses when some creators lose the panel borders. The result of this is that you feel up close to the action, with sounds, feelings, textures, and everything coming across very crisp. Another key message Lee examines is that when you really stop to notice the beauty inherent in most things, the world can also look back. As the creator says, “Between two horses, an object caught my eye. A hole the size of a pin, an angstrom, stared back at me from the centre of the sphere.” It emphasizes the idea that we’re all a part of the world, nobody is truly disconnected, that’s the cyclical nature of life, it continuously gives birth to itself. I enjoyed Temple for the artistic ingenuity in the craft, as well as the content’s peaceful rumination on existence. Grade A.