L’été
An ode to sun, sand, surf and soft beginnings.
La mer ou la montagne ? (The ocean or the mountains?)
The great summer vacation dilemma - to head to the ocean or to the mountains? Which would you choose? For me, it’s an impossible task so of course I have to do both! When I reflect on my recent art residency in Tasmania, I consider myself very lucky that I could have time with the trees whilst also getting a good dose of Vitamin Sea. Both fill my soul and art with life. I love a lot of things about Tasmania and its geographical variation across a small distance is definitely one of them as it always brings endless inspiration, unique experiences and you never have to choose.
Another gift that came from Tasmania this year was the theme of connection. I had travelled south with great plans and endless to-do lists but life had other plans for me. If it wasn’t my health that got in the way, it was the extreme weather. Having been trained in the school of chronic pain for over a decade, I’m quite experienced in the art form of pivoting and so as my grand plans fell to pieces, I set my sights on exploring the local community. What I found in this small rural community was the feeling of my whole world becoming so much bigger.
Since returning to the mainland, I can see how that decision to pivot was also a pivotal moment in my life. It’s something I am forever baffled by but incredibly grateful for that my art practice is not just about art - it unearths a deeply buried authentic part of me that has been a stranger for far too long. In my art, I find answers, solutions, awareness and myself. In times of incredible pain or disconnection, art reaches out to comfort me. She reveals to me what it is I need to know and perhaps what I am now ready to see. Since exploring the theme of connection, it’s been a profound period of reflection too and a whole new way of being.
Shadow play in the Valley of the Giants.
Connection was felt deeply in my field work with the gentle giants too. It has been a ritual to visit them each time I return and each time I learn something different. This time, the lesson and beauty of connection was revealed to me following the aftermath of being trapped in the forest. How did that happen? Well I was supporting efforts of a peaceful protest to protect old-growth forest by delivering food and chatting with the forest defenders. During that time of documenting and interviewing people for my body of work, a person blocked the lock on the gate making it impossible to leave. We were all trapped. What was a little day trip turned into an unexpected overnight trip and I consider myself very lucky that nothing happened whilst we waited for help to arrive from Hobart.
I learned a lot from those volunteers whilst waiting to be freed. They could have been angry or scared by the actions of this individual but sadly, they have seen it all before. I was then briefed on possible escalations and what next steps would be. With help on the way, it was time for a cuppa and a chat around the camp fire. We could have easily chatted about what divides us from others and the actions of this individual with the intent to harm but instead, we chatted about our why. Why we felt we needed to be there and accept those risks. Some answers simply moved me to tears. Hindsight can be a double-edged sword and sometimes leave people holding onto so much guilt and grief when they look back.
Photo by Melissa Hammond
Maya Angelou has a really helpful quote that I use in my advocacy work:
“Do the best you can until you know better. Then when you know better, do better.”
Even in the last three years of exploring this body of work, I have learnt so much and how my choices feed the problem. For example, I used to love framing my artwork in Tassie Oak but it was during my 2nd art residency in Tasmania that I found out it was actually from old-growth forests, destroying the very thing I love and was trying to protect. I simply had no idea. A lot of the problem is just not knowing or having the information and that is the ethos of my advocacy work - making the invisible, visible. The other side of the problem is from allowing ourselves to become disconnected to natural resources. Our lives have become so hectic with modern-day conveniences that we can forget to remember where it all comes from.
It’s here I remind myself about what the indigenous people have taught me - nature is not separate from us, it is a part of us. Would you chop off an arm for a quick fix? Of course not but a lot of decisions around our environment and environmental use are done in a way that is not sustainable and has already wiped out so many species. The problem is so big and if you’re reading this feeling helpless, I would quote Bob Brown here and say:
“Don’t get depressed, get active.”
The beautiful part of this body of work for me is seeing the actions of how one person can make a huge difference. Whether that is showing up at a peaceful protest, chatting to your local Government representative, making changes in the home, or donating where you can…it all matters as it’s all connected.
So back to my story. The next morning with the gate unlocked and my field work done, I drove deeper into the forest to visit my bestie - The Towering Giant. Saved by forest defenders and now part of the United Nations World Heritage Area, I always feel something special in its presence. After the 24 hours I had just experienced, I was craving its safety, wisdom and the relief of being able to rest my body on its soft moss-covered trunk. As my body sunk into the moss, it took an imprint and showed me exactly what I needed to see - the power of connection.
I have visited the Towering Giant on many occasions over the last three years but I have never seen this. A hand - gently touching the earth. Not one that was pushing, pulling, pressuring, suppressing, grabbing, forcing, taking - to me, it was just gently connecting. And then it made me question, how different would our lives and the environment look like if we too took a moment to connect?
Before ending my residency, I returned to the Towering Giant and took some sun prints and a moss-print. It’s an extremely powerful piece that I hope to present in an exhibition in the future and share more with you then. My hope is that I get to return the favour. When that tree took my print, it showed me what I needed to see so hopefully by taking its print, I can show it a world still committed to protecting the natural environment.
Sun prints from the shadows and foliage around the Towering Giant by Melissa Hammond
Moss print - work by Melissa Hammond
Hamilton Inn - Photo by Melissa Hammond
A big part of connection through this residency was connecting to the wonderful rural community in Tasmania: the two-legged and the four-legged kind. I was blown away by kindness and how friendly everyone was. So moved as I was by the experience, I elected to share it with a local Tasmanian community paper when asked to write something about my art residency:
The Highland Digest - December 2025
Melissa Hammond - Artist in Residence
Every time I come to Tasmania, I return to the mainland a different person. I cross the Bass Strait looking out over the sea and reflect on the person I was before arriving in Tasmania to the person I am leaving. Each time, something shifts and each time, something will pull me back to Tassie.
I have just completed my third art residency based in Hamilton where this time I had two months to focus on art projects and explore new ones. I usually arrive with grand plans and projects, and sometimes they work and sometimes the residency (and Tassie weather) has its own plans for me. I can safely say the latter was the case for this particular residency. The extreme weather and wind had me grounded and so I had to pivot.
During my stay, each residency reveals a different theme and this year was connection. It was profound and hit me on so many levels. Having time to reflect on why it affected me and my art practice so much, I think it’s because now more than ever, it has become so easy to disconnect and in a way, become numb to a lot of things. Returning to Hamilton and the Central Highlands of Tasmania was like pressing the big reset button.
Having unsafe conditions to do field and en plein air work, I explored the local communities and it was there that connection took on a whole new meaning. I had just rocked up to do a yoga class through Ash Cottage in Ouse and that yoga class turned into coffee, which turned into exercises classes, monthly cook ups, more coffee catch ups, drinks and cards at the Hamilton Inn, council meetings, being a guest costume judge for the district’s Halloween Party, invites to table tennis and dinners, acts of kindness, chats with neighbours, Aunty V’s coffee and cakes with mates but most importantly, it turned into community. I went from a very digital life to being plugged back into a community. Pun intended!
Isn’t it funny that something that allows us to be more connected can actually make us feel more disconnected. I can only speak for myself but that is what happened to me. Being part of a community, a real community, this beautiful community in the Central Highlands of Tassie reminded me just how powerful connection is. I can’t thank you all enough for welcoming me into your community and I look forward to when we can connect again.
Written by Melissa Hammond
For those that love the rural life, I have to share my daily routine with my resident buddies Franklin and Peaches. Every day I would take a little walk or waddle and would stop to give some grass to Franklin and some pats to Peaches. They were super friendly and as it turns out, Peaches loved a good race along the fence line. Here are some cute clips of us together. A big thank you to Franklin and Peaches’ Mum and Dad for letting us play as it not only gave me a much needed break from work but it was also super fun to soak up some rural life.
Afternoon catch ups with Peaches
Racing Peaches
The final point of connection I had during my residency was volunteering in the biennial Unconformity Art Festival in Queenstown, Tasmania for the first time. Queenstown has suffered long-term damage from a history of mining and to me, this art festival symbolises an invitation to reconnect and work in harmony with the environment again.
I had stopped in Queenstown during my 2nd art residency in Tasmania and was moved by the scares left in the landscape from the mining and acid rain. It was like driving on the moon. The colour palette of Queenstown for me is this bright toxic orange, deep purples and blacks. The damage by the hand of man is everywhere to see. I did have reservations about returning, being sensitive to environments, but I met an artist before going that lifted the sadness. She said something along the lines of not seeing what was taken but what is now thriving. Another words, look for the signs of hope and healing. For me, this festival was like doing the same - looking for signs of hope and healing in the relationship between humans and the environment.
My Summer Projects
The start of 2026 welcomes some new and exciting challenges!
The first is working with oil paints for the first time! It’s exciting and daunting but I am really lucky to be under the guidance of Studio Escalier again and this time, online. I will need to be up at crazy-o’clock for some demonstrations and lectures to be on Paris time but it is totally worth it. I guess any excuse to eat croissants at 4am!
As the art course wraps up with Studio Escalier in February, I will then be gearing up for my first solo exhibition in March. It’s a big moment in the life of an artist to have their first solo exhibition and I can’t wait to share my artwork and love of France with Canberra. The exhibition will be from 26 March to 6 April during my favourite season in Canberra - autumn! To learn more, click here.
On the advocacy front, I will be busy collating ideas from the invisible disability community to help improve access and inclusion in the ACT. If you live in the ACT and manage an invisible disability or know someone who does, I would love to hear from you. To learn more about this project, click here.
And finally, I am going to be shaking up my shop and newsletter. The more time I delve into the power of connection, the more I value personal connections with my patrons, collectors, donors and subscribers. To reflect this, there will be a couple of changes of how I share my work and news. Watch this space!
Up for a new year challenge?
Summer in Australia is a season for new beginnings. In that spirit, I wanted to share a challenge I recently completed as I geared up for the new year. Inspired by a Mel Robbins podcast, she asks to do the following:
Go through all your photos on your phone from 1 January 2025 and write down all your highlights and lowlights in the year.
Once you have your lists, ask yourself these three questions:
What am I going to stop doing?
What am I going to start doing?
What am I going to continue doing?
Since coming back from Tasmania, I have been reflecting on quite a lot and this challenge also helped to change a narrative. This past year, I have been so very unwell managing my invisible disability and just remembered a lot of time with physicians, in bed or on the couch feeling trapped in my body. I honestly didn’t think I got that much done but when I went through all my photos, I realised despite everything thrown at me, I actually achieved so very much. In that awareness, there was self-compassion and an invitation to be kinder to myself. I’m not sure what this challenge will reveal to you but I would highly recommend it.
Final thoughts -
My final thoughts in my final journal for the year is just gratitude. Gratitude for the support from this community and all that I have been able to achieve because of it. My donors, supporters, collectors and subscribers - you have made this art journey possible and I can’t wait to continue this adventure with you all in 2026.
A big thank you also to my patrons, long-term supporters and dear friends Michael and Penelope who made my time in Tasmania possible. Thank you! And a big thank you to my community in Tassie that supported me and took care of me when life did not go to plan. Thank you!
And finally, in the spirit of connection, I would like to invite you to take time this season to connect with your body, your loved ones, your environment, your neighbours and even strangers. As our lives become more digital and hectic, we become more vulnerable to disconnection and isolation. I can’t emphasis enough what a game-changer it has been for me to be plugged back into a real community and the benefits that have been overflowing from that. My hope is that this space can also be one where we can connect.
That concludes my final studio journal for the year and I really hope your enjoyed yourself and Tasmania as much I did. I will be back in the new year and until then, I wish you a very happy, safe and peaceful start to the new year.
Melissa x
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