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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

"eL Seed" was inspired by the French play Le Cid by Pierre Corneille. It was seeing "Le Cid" coming from the Arabic name "el sayed," which means "the master, the man." So I called myself like that because I was 16; I said, "Yes, I'm the man." That's how it started.