Walking in Beirut in the late 90s was like taking a tour of scents. If you sniffed too hard, you could detect the smells of dried blood, welding fumes and fresh vomit. Beirut smelled like the moon, a mix of fired gunpowder and lunar dust, the consequence of dying stars.
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"She was shackled but fierce. She was inhibited but impactful. She was everything I was. She was my self discovery. A state of candid freedom!"
Mali Wali is a visual and rhythmic exploration of the momentary power of self discovery. A woman is drawn into a choreographic experience that contorts and reshapes the framework of her body.