Danielle Arbid works at the heart of feelings, from one film to the next, the most recent Passion simple (2021) based on Annie Ernaux being the quintessence. Less well-known is a more intimate work, carried out over the long term and entitled Ma famille libanaise. From this series opened with Conversations de salon I & II (2004), Je donne à mon cœur une médaille pour t'avoir oublié is the last chapter. This series composes a sort of episodic diary, following the needs she feels to explore her relationships with those close to her (father, mother, brothers, lovers, etc.). Without a program and without any other rules than those imposed by each film, whose threads she sometimes pulls to reveal the intimate effects of the upheavals of History. The starting point of this ninth opus is a photo, intended for a lover and never sent. Real event? We suppose so, unless we keep in mind this phrase heard on the fly, evoking her favorite subject, this space between memory and reinvention, "to the point of no longer being able to decipher the line between projection and memory." The tone is set, and of this love story announced as the occasion that sparked the film, we learn little more. Carried by a pleasure in words and storytelling, Danielle Arbid opens the recesses of memories, from her childhood in Beirut to the Parisian exile due to the war, her relationship with her parents, her loves... A retrospective look winds into loops, reprises, and digressions of a life captured in shreds. From woman to child, and back, unfolds a captivated journey through time and identity. From such an undertaking, she thwarts expectations, as signaled by the work in the very material of images and voices. A paradoxical plunge for this exercise in self-construction where her character takes shape.