It was an identity crisis. I was born and raised in France, but I never really felt French, so I needed to find something that I was more connected to. I used to go back to Tunisia every summer, but I was more into the language, my Arabic roots.

Sometimes the reading is related to something I do, sometimes it's not. I feel like every time I read something, there's a quote or something that comes [into the work] later. There's nothing that happens by coincidence. It's fate, I would say.

In France, they make you feel that you cannot be two things at the same time. You can't be French and Arabic; you can't be French and Muslim.

You meet a lot of people [in Dubai] coming from a lot of different places. Even me, I'm always in transit. I don't stay anywhere too long. I like the energy that I found when I came here the first time. I start knowing people, and people start knowing me as well.

I've seen it personally that people have a natural sensibility to Arabic script. I don't know it if it's because of the shape, I don't know what it is in this script that makes it so universal. But even if you don't understand it, you still have this feeling; you can feel the piece of art in front of you.

Everywhere I've been, from South Africa to Brazil, people are connected to it. For me, art is a way to bring people together. You can put people on the same level, the perception is the same. You can bring a worker, like a cleaning guy, or the richest guy on earth, and they will have the same feeling or they would be able to feel the same.

I've been working a lot with identity and roots, being part of your roots. I went into this topic where I was trying to break the stereotype of Arabic language. The non-translation work, this is where I make the switch, where you don't need to translate.