"Miss-tic" discovered the pochoir through her personal relationship with Blek. Before she began making stencil art she was a poet, a newspaper critic, and a street theater performer. Miss-tic still considers herself a writer. "The wall is the territory of my poems," she says. "It is my publisher." When she and Blek split up, she made a text pochoir she called "L'art mur," a play on the sounds of the French for "wall art" and "armor." Later she made a pochoir called "chair amie," which sounds like "dear friend" but literally means "friendly flesh." "It was a bit narcissistic, but also a laugh," she said.

Today, Miss-tic's images, all stylized self-portraits, are known throughout Paris. But her texts are even more central to her pochoirs. Miss-tic does not consider herself a graphic artist. She writes with pictures and words. "Poetry matches well with the pochoir," she says, "because, like stencil art, poetry can be condensed. A lot of images reveal themselves in a short sentence." Although Miss-tic's stencils are carefully prepared, the texts are often written impulsively. She says she abhors slogans and is not political, but it is impossible to miss the feminist passion in her work, the personal feelings in her public self. In fact, Miss-tic's pochoirs are her diary: She works out her personal passions on public walls.