Graffiti canons spray paint art to the ones who reach out to lost dreams. Rebels formed from the corruption held at home. They stand tall out of this, wide-awake, and make a stance. They bring wisdom, facts, and not opinions as they color the walls in truth.
There is art housed and closed, somehow it stagnates in museums under cold lock and key. And then there is art right here, open and fresh and free. The art of the city embraces us. It tells us its narrative and the power of its youth. If these walls could speak, they’d tell you all about art and life in Beirut; whispered from spray cans.