I come from a modest family in the Paris suburbs, often dislocated, but always linked by our sensitivity, empathy and need to give to others. Raised by a Polish father and an Algerian mother, one was passionate about cinema while the other was intoxicated by song. My childhood was bathed in a pronounced cultural and artistic atmosphere, and both passed on to me creativity, finesse of mind, high standards and the ability to question. Despite our tears and difficulties, our reason for living has always united us: to make others laugh, to laugh and to laugh at ourselves. 

As a child, I was a hyperactive kid, who spent his time trying to make others laugh, with a certain ease of expression, ready to oppose what seemed unfair, to create all sorts of universes with his hands. I remember spending my childhood drawing; then writing stories; then filming and editing short films with my father. Maybe that's why I ended up enrolling in an acting course? The experience only lasted 2 years, but the memories of the scenes have never left me, they've remained intact, etched there, deep in my memory. Never before had I felt so much pleasure, never before had I felt so much at home, in my place: the silence and warmth of the spotlights, the audience's rapt attention, words like a musical score, deliverance through laughter.

As an adult, I haven't changed much, if at all. The need to make people laugh has become the need to move them, my creativity and difference have become my spearheads, the love of words has become vital, and I've put on a bit of muscle. I always knew that one day it would be my turn to devote myself entirely to my art. Today, I want to play for the rest of my life, and I'm ready to make the sacrifices to do so.