Salim began making art as a child of eight or nine in Bahrain, when school teachers noticed his lines and colors were simply better than his peers. After finishing secondary school, he returned home briefly to the UAE before departing for Egypt to study sculpture. Egypt, for Salim, was less of a place of learning than it was of discovery. Finding his studies unsatisfactory, he instead gathered inspiration in the museum. “A museum is like a book, a beautiful book of art,” he shares. “It’s a beautiful place for me, like when a child finds a shop of honey or sweets, chocolate or cake.” Looking at the exhibits and the people that perused them, Salim sketched and sketched. And when he completed his studies in Cairo, he came back to the UAE with the vigor to be different from, “not a copy”, of any other artist, unlike the bland roteness he had encountered in college. “So I read a book of magic,” he states, specifically the Ghazali book of magic. “It’s very big, a very difficult and very strange book,” he says, adding that he wanted his art to relate to and reflect that book. In his room, Salim began to practice the black magic rituals laid out in the text on his own, and later only stopped at the behest of his mother. The experience, however, wafted into his artistic style like clinging smoke.