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Born of Our Hands

Some pages are currently being translated and updated.

A few sections may still appear in French or in a temporary version. I am actively working on them to offer a more complete and coherent experience very soon.

Thank you for your patience while this work is in progress.

1- Entre deux mondes  · Esquisse au fusain par Mélisss.jpg
2- Née du Noir · Esquisse au fusain par Mélisss.jpg
3- Instant Suspendu · Esquisse au fusain par Mélisss.jpg
4- Éthérée · Esquisse au fusain par Mélisss.jpg

First Sketches · Graphite and Charcoal · 2024

Reclaiming the Gesture

This series was born after the end of a collaboration that left me deeply shaken.

I had invested myself in it fully because I genuinely believed in it. Over time, an abusive dynamic took hold. More and more of my energy went into explaining myself, repairing, and trying to stabilize what was coming apart around me.

When that collaboration ended, fear still took up a lot of space. I needed to get out of my head what had remained trapped there, and return to a place that still belonged to me.

I began again with graphite and charcoal.

A sheet of paper. A line. Then another.

Drawing did not resolve what I had gone through. The gesture allowed me to make something real, to recover a sense of continuity, and to choose what my hands would keep building.

Creating kept me in motion through the pain.

One Line at a Time

Née du Noir · Charcoal Sketch · 2024

Née du Noir (Born from the Dark) · Charcoal & Graphite on Paper · 2024

Entre Deux Mondes · Charcoal Sketch · 2024
In the thin space between yesterday and tomorrow,
not quite broken, never truly free,
fractured, yet whole,
strength born from the cracks.

Instant Suspendu · Charcoal Sketch · 2024

When everything seems to stop, perhaps this is where everything begins.

The title of the series takes on its meaning here.

Born of Our Hands is not only about what we make. The series carries a question that became very concrete for me: what do our gestures make possible around us?

Some gestures build. They support, gather, and open a way forward.

Others undo. They weaken, divide, and leave traces long after they have been made.

For a long time, I had devoted a significant part of my energy to rebuilding over what was coming apart around me. I could not prevent certain gestures from destroying what I was trying to build. But I could decide not to let that destruction become my own direction.

I wanted to keep building.

Returning to creation became a way of reclaiming my hands, my energy, and my place.

What Our Gestures Make Possible

What We Choose to Carry

As the drawings progressed, the gaze shifted.

I was no longer only trying to release what was living inside me. I was thinking more about what gestures produce within a relationship: what we impose on others, what we refuse to look at in ourselves, and what each of us must learn to carry with maturity.

Alphabet on it? and Parjure belong to this stage. The works do not directly tell what happened. They open toward a more concrete responsibility: the way we choose to act when tension, fear, or anger begin to take up space.

Alphabet on it? · Charcoal Sketch · 2024

Parjure (Perjury) · Charcoal Sketch · 2024

There are forms of momentum we only perceive after the impact.

Discreet lines, carved into the air, where movement never fully disappears.

When the weight of the world changes hands, it is not a defeat.

It is a light traced directly through the cracks.

Parjure (Perjury) · Charcoal Sketch · 2024

Letting the Alert Subside

When that collaboration ended, fear did not leave with it.

I knew I had stepped away from a dynamic that was destroying me. Yet a sense of danger remained. My body and my mind were still on guard.

It took time for the alert to lose ground, and for real peace to begin taking place again.

Les Cendres Ne Mentent Pas, Rêverie, and さよなら · Sayonara belong to this transition.

The tension is still vivid in Les Cendres Ne Mentent Pas.

With Rêverie, something slows down. The gaze settles. A calmer zone becomes accessible again.

Sayonara means goodbye. This drawing closes the year 2024 with a clearer gesture: leaving behind what devours without nourishing.

Creation continued to keep me in motion. Little by little, it also brought peace back.

8- Les cendres ne mentent pas · Esquisse au fusain par Mélisss.jpeg

Les cendres ne mentent pas · Charcoal Sketch · 2024

9- Rêverie · Esquisse au fusain par Mélisss.JPG
10- さよなら (Sayonara) · Charcoal Sketch by Mélisss

さよなら · Sayonara · Charcoal Sketch · 2024

Goodbye to everything that devours without ever nourishing.

I learned to build on ruins, to pull meaning from the heart of chaos, where everything seemed to be falling apart.

Rêverie (Daydream) · Charcoal Sketch · 2024

A breath held in the hollow of a gaze, gathering at the threshold of becoming.

During the winter of 2025, I began reworking many of these sketches on screen.

The change of medium created a useful distance. I could return to the same image several times, adjust its composition, test a colour, remove what weighed it down, then begin again without forcing what came next.

This work allowed me to multiply the attempts before settling on my choices.

Some changed very little. Others transformed through successive versions, until they found a presence distinct from their original form.

The digital process was no longer simply a passage toward painting. It became a working space in its own right.

Éthérée and Chambre Close took shape in this interval.

Through the Digital Process

4- Éthérée · Esquisse au fusain par Mélisss.jpg
4- Éthérée OD LD.png
6- Chambre Close · Esquisse au fusain par Mélisss.jpg
6- Chambre Close OD LD.jpeg

Éthérée and Chambre Close · Sketches and Digital Works · 2024–2025

Returning to the Canvas

Gradually, I began painting again.

Returning to the material required more time, more decisions, and a deeper commitment. The canvas imposed another rhythm. It did not allow the same shifts as the screen.

Some works found their form in this passage.

In Between Worlds – Full View – Acrylic painting by Melisss (Melissa Henri)

Entre Deux Mondes · Original Artwork · 2025

With Les Cendres Ne Mentent Pas, the series had reached saturation.

For two weeks, I kept pushing against a canvas that refused to exist. A warrior I could not make stand.

I had already crossed through what this series had made possible.

To continue would have meant remaining inside that story.

Another Direction Takes Hold

Meanwhile, before I had made the connection, a cheetah had appeared on screen.

I did not yet understand what it was announcing.

I stopped insisting.

I scraped the canvas.

Les Cendres Ne Mentent Pas → Zone 0 · Reworking the Canvas · 2025

It was only several months later, while gathering the process images, that I understood the reach of that gesture.

The first drawing already carried these words:

I do not bend; I dance with the wind that tries to bring me down.
But it is the fire that transforms me,
and from its ashes, a beginning is reborn.

I thought I had put an end to a canvas that had reached its limit.

In reality, on that same surface, I had moved from struggle to availability.

Zone 0.

A space after war.

A calm that knows. An awareness awake.

Stopping the flight. Stopping the fight. Recharging.

Les Cendres Ne Mentent Pas.

They had been right from the beginning.

Explore  was born there.

Clore un dossier

En novembre 2025, presque un an après la naissance de cette série, j’ai présenté plusieurs œuvres dans le cadre d’un événement au profit de la Séjournelle.

Le lieu était déjà lié à cette histoire. Les parcours de certaines femmes présentes faisaient écho au mien.

J’y arrivais pourtant depuis un autre endroit.

Présenter ces œuvres là, dans ce contexte, refermait quelque chose de très concret.

À ce moment-là, je croyais cette série terminée.

Pop-up d’artisans au profit de la Séjournelle · Broadway Microbrasserie · Shawinigan · nov

What comes next is taking shape

The page dedicated to this series will be online soon.

What comes next is taking shape

The page dedicated to this series will be online soon.

Revenir vers elles

Quiet Loud · Estampe numérique de Mélisss
Red is a Mood 24 X 32 (LD).png
Libre · Estampe numérique de Mélisss

What comes next is taking shape

The page dedicated to this series will be online soon.

Explore avait ouvert une autre direction.

Je pensais avoir laissé derrière moi les femmes imaginées plus tôt dans le processus.

Puis trois d’entre elles se sont imposées à nouveau : Quiet Loud, Red is a Mood et L I B R E.

Je les avais d’abord travaillées au numérique. Au moment de les transposer sur la toile, j’ai compris qu’elles n’avaient pas été abandonnées.

Elles avaient attendu.

Ma main n’était plus la même. Ma manière de lire une œuvre non plus.

Trois femmes

Elles n’ont pas traversé la toile de la même manière.

Chacune reprend une part différente du chemin : rassembler ce qui s’était dispersé, laisser revenir l’intensité, puis choisir une direction.

Quiet Loud, portrait contemporain en acrylique sur toile par Mélisss.png

What comes next is taking shape

The page dedicated to this series will be online soon.

Quiet Loud rassemble.

Red is a Mood, portrait contemporain en acrylique sur toile par Mélisss.jpg

What comes next is taking shape

The page dedicated to this series will be online soon.

Libre, portrait contemporain en acrylique sur toile par Mélisss

What comes next is taking shape

The page dedicated to this series will be online soon.

L I B R E choisit.

Ensemble, elles rendent visible un déplacement lent : retrouver une assise, récupérer une énergie vivante et reprendre la responsabilité de sa direction.

Ce qui naît de nos mains se referme sur une capacité retrouvée à choisir ce qui mérite encore d’être porté.

La trajectoire se poursuit avec Explore.

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