In many spiritual traditions, geometric patterns are seen as a means to connect with the divine or transcendental realms. Nowhere have I felt this more deeply than in the Hassan II Mosque in Casablanca, where sacred geometry unfolds in every direction, inviting the viewer to lose themselves in its repetition and complexity. In Islamic architecture, such patterns echo the concept of tawhid, the central Islamic belief in the oneness of God, symbolizing the harmony and interconnectedness of creation.
When I first encountered the idea of sacred geometry, it resonated deeply with my own philosophy about reality and the infinite layers of existence. As I spent more time in mosques around the world, I began to see the repetitive forms of Islamic architecture as quiet reflections of that same infinity. Just as one can zoom endlessly into a digitally rendered fractal, where each layer reveals more intricate echoes of the last, the universe too appears infinitely complex and interconnected the closer you look, at both micro and macro scales. Seeing such an abstraction of infinity with my own eyes, here on a warm Moroccan afternoon, felt like peering behind the curtain… if only for a moment.
The geometric designs of the Hassan II Mosque are deeply rooted in Moroccan Islamic art, reflecting a rich fusion of Amazigh (Berber), Arab, and Andalusian influences. While not all of these cultures were originally Islamic, over time they were shaped by a shared spiritual framework that gave rise to a uniquely Moroccan expression of faith and art. This cultural layering highlights the depth of the region’s heritage and invites reflection on the interconnectedness of civilizations across the ages, and how diverse traditions have come together through shared devotion.
As I raised my camera to capture this structure, I couldn’t escape the feeling of something intangible in its form. Squinting through the lens, ethereal blooms seemed to appear, softening the clean-cut corners that framed every façade. Each edge gave way to crisscrossing lines that flowed outward, down toward the ocean just beyond the doors… almost as if I were being called to a primordial sea, its voice muted by the monolithic structure until it reached me only as a whisper.
As I peered through the aperture, all forms coalesced into a single emotion. Those whispers from the sea seemed to rise around me, speaking in some language now long forgotten. They tried to give me a word to match what I was feeling, but of all the languages of mankind I have ever heard spoken or seen written on a page, only one word could even begin to give this experience a name:
Awe.
