When I was 7 years old, burglars broke into my parents' house. Stealthily carrying out an entire cupboard, they could not have imagined what they were walking away with: my family's entire collection of photographs and audio tapes. As a consequence, my family lost much more than material possessions, we lost our family memories as well...

Thirty years after losing my family albums and at risk of forgetting my personal history, I began photographing places and situations that reminded me of my childhood, based on the stories my relatives had told me about my past. Disregarding the fact that those actual places, people and situations did not belong to my past but to someone else’s story, I not only photographed other children’s daily lives but also began to appropriate photographs from other people's family albums, taking memories that belonged to others in order to re-document my past - as if they were my own.