A neighborhood that is built of memories and perspectives that are neither adult nor childish… I haven’t grown up entirely –
Part personal/emotional, and part collective.
A mix of clichés, derived from the standardization of building, appearance, and stagnation. Beauty that was conquered,
The exotic nature of the “other” through colonialist eyes
And the lack of desire to explain, through those same eyes.
A common denominator that develops between buildings, shelters, stairwells, difficulties, social classes, Personal traumas interwoven with national traumas. I adopt stereotypes with love and simultaneously I hate them; I create for myself a fictional world based on reality. Grandfather and grandmother were separated by politics.
And I am separated by choice.
Lower middle class,
A Mizrahi family,
The difficulties of the sector, Anger,
The desire to prove yourself.