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For the portraits Alshaibi films different women, including his wife Kristie Alshaibi, either fully nude, partially nude, or in various stages of undress. But these aren't loving erotic gazes. There is a hint of performance art in the way the women writhe, gyrate, and strut in front of Alshaibi's mostly manic camera that races around their bodies as if excited by each and every part of their form.
Each portrait is also imbued with either just a hint of violence or an explicit vision of it. Blood comes out through various wounds and orifices to remind the viewer that these visions of loveliness are real, physical beings.