Shrine of Ibn Arabi in Syria (Photo by Emily O'Dell)
When I was at the shrine of Ibn Arabi in Syria, I ended up taking photographs of almost every inch of his tomb. I remember being drawn to this nook in particular–with its Arabic inscription chiseled to fit into different shapes, its alternating courses of faded stone (ablaq style), and even the damage from the weeping streaks of rainwater…but no photograph could capture the silence and stillness of his tomb, when I was almost locked inside it overnight–all by myself…
Oh lover – whosoever you are – know that the veils between you and your beloved – whosoever he might be – are nothing save your halt with things, not the things themselves; as said by the one who hasn’t tasted the flavour of realties. You have halted with things because of the shortcoming of your perception; that is, lack of penetration, expressed as the veil; and the veil is nonexistence and nonexistence is nothingness. Thus there is no veil, If the veils were true, then who got veiled from you, you should also have been veiled from him.
— Ibn al-Arabī
