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.

I'm more into the perception scope of a work; I'm exploring this concept of perception and how people can look at someone, look at the community, and put in so much judgment, so much stereotype, so much misconception.

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 couldn't know about my culture, my history, without learning the language, so I started learning Arabic - reading, writing. I used to speak Arabic before that, but Tunisian Arabic dialect. Step by step, I discovered calligraphy. I painted before and I just brought the calligraphy into my artwork. That's how everything started. The funny thing is the fact that going back to my roots made me feel French.

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.

I'm trying to create artwork that makes people, and myself, think about judgment as a reflex. This is something that must be changed.

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.