The Spark That Started It All

In early 1990, I left college to work as a manager at a Gap in Manhattan with a team of remarkable and diverse individuals. On Christmas Eve, seeing all the bundles I would have to haul down to the subway and onto a bus, my co-worker generously offered to drive me over the bridge to my grandmother's apartment in Queens.

On the way, I asked her if she had gone to school for retail. She glumly replied:
"I really wanted to be an actress, but my parents said, How many round little Asian girls do you see on TV? So they sent me to business school instead."

That moment stayed with me—a yearning for representation, for visibility, for belonging.

Fast Forward to 2019: Rediscovering My Voice

Nearly three decades later, I finally felt ready to share the strategies in my toolkit for emotional and mental well-being—the practices that help me sustain joy. The words were written, but arranging them into something meaningful felt overwhelming.

I paused from editing and reached for my colored pencils. I began drawing women’s faces—not something new for me, but this time, I layered them over my journal pages filled with gratitude lists, tarot readings, prayers, and creative ideas. Alongside the portraits, I scribbled mantras and added a whimsical ellis* to each page.

Soon, I was bringing my journal everywhere: soccer games, band rehearsals, doctor appointments, thrift shops. A renewed awareness blossomed inside me—of who I am and how I fit into society.

The Longing for Representation

At a PTO meeting, I noticed how every woman’s face was different—different contours, textures, tones—but all beautifully the same in essence.

The next day, a friend posted on social media:
"When I see the shape and color of my body represented in a room, my values and beliefs reflected, and our differences celebrated and present, it changes how I show up in that room."

Instantly, I was 20 again, remembering my co-worker’s yearning. Thirty years later, we are still longing to see ourselves—because we don’t ALL get to see ourselves enough.

Harmony in Diversity: Why It Matters

Clarity hit me: We need more than a token visible difference from the thin, white, symmetrical women who dominate media and art. We need to see the glorious variety of Weathered and Worthy Women—connected, together, in harmony.

We need creators in every realm to flood the world with images and stories that celebrate diversity. We need to look into each other’s eyes and see our distinct, vibrant, gorgeous selves reflected back.

A Thousand Faces and One Truth

Representation matters, but it’s not enough. What we truly need is connection—spaces where creativity and conversation can flourish, where women gather not just to be seen, but to be heard, understood, and celebrated.

That vision inspired me to create workshops designed to spark inspiration, share stories, and explore creative practices that nurture resilience and harmony. These gatherings are about more than art—they’re about belonging, about finding common ground through intention and imagination.

Now, after almost ten years of drawing these faces, I look back at them with awe. They don’t all wear a little black barrette or a silver moon with a heart of gold anymore. They’ve evolved—just like me. Each one carries its own story, its own texture, its own truth.

They are all me in countless forms.
They are all you—in splendid magnificence.
They are all us—a perfectly imperfect reflection of Harmony in Diversity:
Worthy and Weathered and Wise Women who are all Enough and Loved as is.

A Tribute to My Grandmothers

This journey is also a love letter to the women who shaped me. When my oldest children were in preschool, we made up a story about a Twish—a bird-fish that goes on adventures in MerTerra, a land full of MerMyths. In the wake of my two grandmothers passing—one at 102 and the other just shy of 96—I began drawing a Twish named ellis, after their initials: L for Lucy and S for Sip.

Every ellis I sketch reminds me of their resilience, their grace, and their wisdom. They were Weathered and Worthy Women who taught me that joy is not about perfection—it’s about presence, love, and connection.

💖 Melanie