The first exile is to exile from one’s dress

Portrait

Exile from my country, from our shared celebrations, from our flags...

Exile from my country, from our shared celebrations, from our flags...
Festival at the Ghriba
A common father, Abraham, a shared history, a shared home...
The two sheep

A common father, Abraham, a shared history, a shared home...

Go back home!

Right visual
Right visual

Where is "home" as a human being?

Left visual
Left visual

Trace & Weft

First image – the dresses
First image – the dresses
Second image – the dresses
Second image – the dresses
First descriptive image
First descriptive image
Second descriptive image
Second descriptive image
Third descriptive image
Third descriptive image

Those chairs that remain empty because the question remains unanswered... Where is our place?

Search for the MasterSearch for the Master
The CallThe Call
WanderingWandering
DreamDream

The Neurons

Photo – The Neurons
Photo – The Neurons

“I saw my country leave me when I was only 13: the place of my birth had signed my fate... Since leaving Tunisia, I live with flashbacks like on a psychoanalyst’s couch, visions that refuse to detach from my retina: the ‘Nilla’ blue that whitened the laundry became the mirror of my emotions, and the black coal of my childhood that warmed my child’s room came together to fix the vision of my new universe.”

The NeuronsThe Neurons
These materials that build my canvases recall the fragility of our homes
The NeuronsThe Neurons
The couch, the unconscious speaking
The NeuronsThe Neurons
The NeuronsThe Neurons
The NeuronsThe Neurons
Pigments, charcoal, thatch, tissue paper...
The NeuronsThe Neurons
The NeuronsThe Neurons
The NeuronsThe Neurons