Hi! I'm Dimitra, a Melbourne-based photographer primarily working across fashion and portraiture.

I applied to Descoverartists on a sleep-deprived whim. Had I been more lucid, I might have stopped myself—time away felt like a luxury I couldn’t justify.

But after a challenging year, I felt restless and creatively stagnant. More than anything, I craved creative kinship and connection. The fact that the program was in Greece only deepened that pull, presenting an opportunity to reconnect with my Greek heritage in a way I hadn’t before.

One of the residency's more unexpected challenges was the absence of pressure to create. We were encouraged to trust that inspiration would come in its own time. As a freelancer, the instinct to constantly produce is hard to shake. I’m so used to having to sing for my supper that the lack of structure initially left me feeling unmoored.

At some point, it felt like the island had won whatever internal struggle was between discipline and abandonment for many of us. There was no negotiation, no self-denial—just a half-hearted glance at one another before we shrugged, threw up our hands, and gave in to whatever the hour asked of us.

(This all being a romantic way of saying I routinely ate ice cream for breakfast, smoked too many cigarettes, etc., etc...)

At first, I didn’t feel compelled to photograph. Capturing the other artists in their element felt like a privilege, and Hydra’s beauty was obvious—paralyzing, even. But I began to feel the limitations of my medium.

I often experience this tension as a photographer. The medium is inherently reactive, dependent on capturing rather than constructing. In a space where so much of the creative process was about internal exploration, that contrast felt starker than ever. Photography demands a subject and a moment to respond to (probably why I’m so drawn to heavy post-production—it gives me a way to construct and inject something internal into the final image). Without that, I searched for a more immediate way to externalize my feelings.

Eventually, I let go of the need to document and started experimenting—sketching, overpainting, and etching instant film prints. That environment pushed me beyond observation into mediums that felt more tactile and immediate—something I hadn’t given myself the space to do in a long time.

I had my reservations about living with eight strangers, but the bonding felt immediate and effortless in a way I didn’t expect. Living and creating in community with the other residents—a wild blend of perspectives and energies—was a profoundly healing experience, and easily the most impactful lesson from my time on the island.

Meeting locals, past residents, educators, and the countless returnees who feel deeply connected to Hydra deepened our understanding of its legacy—how both the island and the community it cultivates have held space for many before us and will continue to do so long after.

I might actually sob if I think about how much I miss our little group, so I'll leave it at that. Is there a big exploding heart emoji?? There needs to be.

Since returning to Australia, I’ve felt energized in my work and creative practice. My time on the island brought me closer to my Greek heritage, making me feel more at home in myself—and more certain that I want to split my working life between Australia and Europe (ahem, book me)

If something in my small musings about my time with Descover resonates, you might seek something similar to what drew me to the experience.

Living, creating, and sharing space with the other residents felt like a rare kind of magic—one I’m still trying to put into words. I am grateful for the late-night talks, the shared silences, the unraveling and rebuilding. And grateful to Christina, Descoverartists, and our unforgettable little family ♥️