Feb 18, 2017

More of Khaleejesque feature. Bloom Issue.

Standing. As Within So Without. 2015

Pretending to spray paint. Closed for Prayer. 2014

Satellite Hooping.

Digital Poster : Pleasures of the damned

كل شيء احبه، عيب، او مضر، او ممنوع، او غالي، او مستحيل

Feb 17, 2017

Article: Walls of the GCC by Rana Jarbou

“I am a Saudi citizen free and independent”. In female voice in Riyadh, Granada district, by Balqis al Rashed. Women’s visibility on Saudi Arabia’s street walls has been emerging in the past few years. These expressions are isolated and scattered, and are often very quickly crossed over or whitewashed. 

Full article in link below:

Production of "Once we fell from the sky and landed in Babel" . 2015

Feb 6, 2017

Zenith interview

"ما جعلني أخوض هذه تجربة فن الأداء، هي الطريقة الحميمية في التعبير التي أعيشها كفنانة. تواجدي الكامل في لحظة معينة من الزمن، يعطيني القدرة على توسيع وتحويل تصوراتي عن الواقع."

معظم الانتقادات كانت موجهه تجاه ارتداء بلقيس للنقاب خلال أدائها الفني، حيث تَعتبر بلقيس، أنَّ النّقاب قطعة قماش مثيرة للاهتمام ومحيّرة في الوقت نفسه، وتتساءل: كيف تمكّنت قطعة قماش سوداء من عكس ُقدرتِها وعَجزْها، حَجْبِها وكَشْفِها، في ذات الوقت!"


Feb 5, 2017

الروح اليتيمة

انقهرت الروح اليتيمة، 
قطعت الحبال والروابط.
تعمّد ان يشبع فقر النفس الهائمة
استأنس في ملاذ الخلائق، 
تشبع اللوز بالورد
و الماء تعكرت في البلّور 

انتشى بالحب في تيتّمي 
قهر اليتيم من اليتم 
دمّم كرامتي بلّطف
و مسح القيء بكرم
علّق حنيني جانب قميص نومها 
حنَّت، انحنت،  فاستفحلت،
شبعاً مِنه.

افرز الفضلات المنتفية
وأحلل محتوى الألغام المعلقة.
رائحة قصتهم تفاقمت 
تغلغلت و اشتدت المحنه..
لم يعد للحب مكان في هذه اليتمة .. 

مشيت في جهل سموه
قرعت الطبول هلعاً 
 بدأت الأحلام تستيقض..
قبل الفجر بدقيقتين و نصفيّ الدقيقة
له دقيقتين - و انا و هي النصفين 
نصف واقعي.. مفضّل..  
و نصف حالم و مكروه
 فُقِد، فستفقد. 

Jan 21, 2017

Lilac Dreams

The lilacs on my bed, they fell from my hair. You planted them there, where I'm still stuck in the mess you created, in the mess I laid on, dreamed on, argued and loved on.. so did she.. so did you..

My dreams are poisoned with lilacs. You planted the seeds. I watered them well. I followed the sun where ever it went. And when the sun no longer there, I showered them with love
.... maybe that was too much. 

They reached my roots, dressing my crown like a queen of lilac dreams.. 

The queen of the lilac dream. 

I am stuck in this dream. The petals got caught in my hair.. it's turning into a nightmare.. it's tangled, as if my hair doesn't know how to let go of them. 

Your lilacs. They lost their scent and color. Take care of them. They are withering away.. 

My heart too.. 

My love as well…

وقت الطعام

ثلاث وجبات في اليوم
الوقت يحدد الوجبة المجهزة
و حالته.. و حالتي.

الآن, حان وقت الطعام
نوع الطعام يحدد اتجاه الشمس 
والورود والطيور 
....والظلال المرسومة على ملامح هذه المدينة 

يا هي كئيبة.

نوع الطعام يدل على شروق الشمس ام غروبها 
ولكن انا لا شمس لي ولا قمر،
لا سماء ولا ورود،
جذوري إضمحلت و تآكلت..
أمامي جدران شاهقة 
والغمر والرمل والوحدة...

 أمامي صحن شكشوكة
بيض، بصل، و طماطم حمراء... انه الصباح....
الشمس مشرقة في الخارج.. فقدت شهيتي للاكل 
و الشمس..

Sep 13, 2016


She watches herself play in the moment. She is walking this earth within certain limitations. She is not familiar with restrains. She is not from this earth. She's from elsewhere. She came from the stars. She expanded with the universe. She is bigger than the body that contains her. She sits in circles, and twirls within and without them.

The Trap

Unheard. Unseen.
She walks into mirrors. 
The illusion is engrained. 
It has been engineered to alter perceptions. 
She exists in other's realities 
Not knowing how to create her own..
No one taught her the value
Of the emptiness within.
She's hollow. Soulless. 
She recognises her body although it's new to her. 
Her organs fill her body well.
Her veil covers the flaws.
It secures the emptiness. 
The light can't penetrate the darkness,
Only if it shines from within.
She lives in mirrors. 
Perceptions, distorted.
Illusions, constructed. 

Break them. Sort them. Destroy them.

Sep 6, 2016


I have believed in lies.
I believed that for me to be free
I have to be different,
For me to be independent
I have to be separate,
For me to remain my unique self,
I have to reject oneness.
These were my excuses.
That I am special on my own,
Which means I don't get to enjoy myself with any one,
and that I am essentially alone.
I believed that
For me to express my uniqueness was a loss,
for sharing myself would mean
losing myself.
These were my lies.
I believed them to my core.
They protected me from sharing the love I have to offer
and the freedom to live.
These were the construct of my conditioning.
I know now, I am free to be
I am independent in my dependence on the universe.
Today, I wear my self,
proud, brave, and victorious.
I see my truth and I am high on life.
I celebrate my awareness, with my presence.
I know, I am supported by His unconditional love,
always and forever.
These were my lies.
These were my excuses.
They are not mine anymore.
I sent them to His light.
They are taken care of.

Sep 4, 2016


She was eating herself alive, the remains of this self destruction was the only thing moving in her stillness. She stood strong while she destructs, distrusts, and disrupts her existence. She was beautiful but insecure. I wish she knew her worth. 

She was tangled in her thoughts and fears. She no longer wanted to be. She decided to transform and become.

 So she became fierce. 

Journal #07

Finally our paths collided.. Our footprints no longer matter. We are in each other's presence. It's all good for now. We are present and in the moment. We see no future because we are instilled in the present we have received. All I could feel is happiness. All I could express is gratitude. All I could do is embrace the gifts of today. All I could do is trust my creations. This is great.

Letters to self

Dear Me, 
If I could only tell you back then what I know now.. that your soul is ever more beautiful than the body and form that you have been blessed with... That beauty is reflected in the essence that you are terrified to share with the world.. That you are smarter than you think you are, that you are deeper than you know you are, and that you are more precious than what you were conditioned to believe.. That your feminine energy- intuition, empathy, and creativity- harnesses your true strength and power.. That your value is not defined with perfection of creation, but rather appreciation of creation, however imperfect. That you are loved because you are worthy of love.. And that it is safe to love, it is always safe to love... Most importantly, that you are enough.. Way more than enough. You are a universe on its own..

Much love and appreciation,


As I walk in the alleys of today, I'm stuck between two worlds. There is no way of escaping it. I have no other option but to make this journey. I am a prisoner of constructed meanings and false binaries, of good and evil, right and wrong, tradition and modernity, regression and progress... I am imprisoned in contrast. I walk and labor on an unknown path. As I move forward, I realise my freedom always resided on these sacred grounds I walk on and the skies above me. 

Journal #21

 ...I became more aware recently of the tightness I feel in my throat and the heaviness in my chest. I get this feeling every time I want to express myself. I have always felt this way, so it's nothing new.. But my awareness lately has been focus on this feeling, that I didn't quite understand. The more I felt it, the more it harbored in my body, breaking down into small particles of the purest form of anxiety. Absorbed, my palms start to tremble and sweat. I nervously laugh it off... I'm high on fear.

Fear... That's what it is... What am I fearing? Why am I afraid to express myself?
That I would be judged..? No.. Worse..! That I will be punished for expressing myself and that it is not safe for me to be who I am.. That I would be in trouble for speaking my mind and sharing my thoughts.. That if I express myself fully and genuinely, I would be disapproved of, shunned, mistreated, hurt, and rejected.. That expressing my anger, love, sadness, happiness, joy, compassion, frustration, or excitement, is not allowed, inappropriate, unacceptable, or at times illegal... Suddenly my life makes sense.. For my soul to heal this fear of expression, it chose my parents to teach me through their experiences, and to provide me with the life that allowed me to learn who I am by existing in contrast. It chose inspiring soul mates that are so strong, so brave, so fierce, and mostly authentic.. It chose to make me experience and survive the most difficult of situations, urging me always to step up and be present for myself- living by my values, going after my dreams, and honoring my sacred boundaries.. It chose to be an artist and a creative.. It chose to major in visual communications, giving me all the tools, mentors, and teachers to help me heal from this crippling fear. I am blessed and grateful. I am healing and integrating. I am so lucky


  • طيري يا صغيرتي.. اخيراً سقط القناع.. حلّقي الى المدى البعيد.. فالانتماء حالة برجوازية.. و رفاهية غير صالحة للأحرار..